A young woman sits at eastside hotspot Holocene's bar on a recent Sunday. She's drinking coffee, shrouded by the natural light of a Sunday afternoon, and wearing--this is no joke--slippers and a terrycloth robe.
This isn't a hipster socialite gone mega-casual--she's just taking part in Justin Miller's grand plan to entertain this town's clubgoers.
In addition to introducing bedroom chic as fashion concept, Miller, a native New Yorker, wants to introduce Pop Tarts and cereal as the cuisine du jour and cartoons as the concept art at his monthly party, Breakfast of Champions.
Think of it as The Breakfast Club, only without all the high-school detention stuff. Here's Miller's plan: first, cartoons and live comedy with a theme, and then dancing. Today's theme is outer space and features Space Ghost cartoons spliced with semi-sci-fi standup by Miller and friends.
Miller is an adventurous host. Even though plenty of the event's patrons go with the just-rolled-outta-bed look, Miller sports a three-piece suit and is just about the only one who's done his hair. He beams confidence in front of the mic (and on the dance floor--Miller's one hot dancer), but he isn't afraid of a little self-deprecation. One skit features Miller and his roommate "caught on tape" using each other's electronics and doing naughty things to comic books.
The dance party that follows TV time, hosted by DJ friends of Miller's, is a little strange. It's not often you get the chance to boogie while the sun is up. Well, at least, not in this state. Wallflowers and bad dancers beware: The open windows and Sunday sunshine don't exactly allow for anonymity. Still, the chance to catch Miller--who at these events goes by the moniker Johnny Big Shot--busting a move is alone worth the three-dollar admission price.
As the warmth of summer beckons bodies outside, it might be difficult to keep up a crew of followers. Something tells me Miller isn't concerned.
A recent press release says it all: "It's like dance church." That must make Johnny Big Shot the pastor.