Wednesdays at Dragonfly

I have always assumed that breakdancing, that lame staple of 7th grade bar mitzvah parties, was a matter of wiggling in a snazzy manner. Not so, says snh, and to prove it last night I got taken to Dragonfly for an evening of popping and locking. I still don’t actually know what that means, but it was sure nifty lookin'.

First stop: around 11 downstairs for some of the best vegetable tempura in the city- fluffy and crunchy - and veggie sushi. I don’t mean those cheesy asparagus and carrot things at the deli salad bar- this was made of spinach, avocado, cucumber, and some kind of root with an exotic name that tasted just like tuna.

Surprisingly good music played upstairs, marred only by the DJ's need to break in every 15 seconds to declare "Lets keep it goin'". It's the only time I've seen an entire bar dancing in front of empty couches, wiggling in unusual and boneless ways. Although clothing is diverse tonight, two types of outfits are predominent: Jeans and some reference to African culture (big floppy hat, green, red and yellow wrist band) or hoochy skirt with thigh high stiletto cowboy boots.

Last night, the ones in stilettoes were not breakdancing. A large circle had formed and 5 folks in softer shoes (men and women, both) with muscles coming out of their eyebrows were performing feats of unbelievably athletic groovability. The organizer of this weekly ritual, a mohawked Asian guy, performed a well choreographed cameo that ended in holding a whole body pose at 45 degrees, a one handed handstand, backflip out, and then something freaky with his feet. I vaguelly found myself wondering what the enthusiastic but notoriusly uncoordinated goths at Nation's weekly Alchemy event would have thought.

I admit, even after my $7 gin and tonic it was a little intimidating- and that's not counting the very real threat of a foot to the face. Instead, we ended up with a smaller group to the side- they were members of a weekly breakdancing dance class at a Bethesda studio and hadn't gotten to floor moves lessons yet.

Even the kitchen staff in long white aprons standing around the edges of the crowd were watching. Now that's authentic.

Dragonfly | 1215 Connecticut Ave. NW