In front of Quincy Market, Boston.

They were a group of “black” breakdancers. I say black in quotes because does race really matter?

They loved to dance. This show was all Michael Jackson. When one came around for donations they said, “Thank you for your donations. It keeps us out of the courthouse-” He grinned, “And your house.”

Later, they asked for volunteers (or more like pulled random girls out of the crowd). They asked them to stand in the centre, without holding anything. “Don’t worry about giving a black guy your purse. You can trust us, we promise.” Then suddenly, two of them took their bags and dashed off.

But one of the remaing called out,

“HEY! Come back here! We don’t do that anymore!”

“Oh yeah! Right.” He scowled appreciatively. The music started, “Beat it” blared on the speakers.

It was time to dance.