We, and every hipster to the last drop, ventured to Motel #1 last night. I guess it was a huger hit than expected and a scenester's wet dream. More people inside than outside and being outside, denied entry, was its own spectacle alongside the staged aspects, which I didn't see because we got there late and they choked the show just as we reached what seemed to be the official point of entry. Scenesters loitered over the flimsy second-floor railings, tossing poses and air and sometimes things like flowers or tricks to lure upward glances. One of the exhibits must've required people to remove their shoes, which they did, bending over bump to rump and leaving them piled on the narrow second-story walkway to fall to the floor below. No one seemed to be in charge of keeping people moving through, only a few incidental docents anxiously trying to prevent people from going in where they only wanted people to go out. And there seemed to be no one to prod the second-floor voguesters along, so people crowded in the parking lot, a tin-can macadam crackling underfoot. Occasionally some spindly dude would climb the railing and be the smarter for it. Otherwise, the rest of us waited or left, or shot a video and then left.