You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your liiiiife....

(after some guy makes weird smacking sounds at Kate in the metro)
Kate: I'm not a friggin' snack!!

Okay, so setting the scene:
It's Friday night. Just got home from school, ready to do something fun. It's dark outside.
(only 7:30 and already dark...wow)

Kate and I look at each other. Whatever we do, it has to be wild, unpredictable, so fun it can be considered illegal in at least 6 different countries. One of those is Canada.

That's right...

Mama Mia: Karioke night.

Let's talk front-row seat fans already fidgeting in their seats and laughing too loudly at things that aren't really that funny because they're just that excited about the film.
(As newbies, Kate and I choose a safe seat: a middle row seat, next to an old guy that can't do much damage if the crowd gets too wild.)

Then, the lights go down.
Several screams, cheers, bursts of applause erupt from the audience. It's time.

Let me tell you something:

If you ever, ever get the chance to see French people at a Mama Mia karioke night, go.

If you ever get the chance to see everyone hopping out of their seats to unleash their inner ABBA while singing "Dancing Queen" at the top of their lungs (complete with homemade props) you will know what it is like to be completely enthralled and taken with complete strangers who speak an alien language.
The faithful front row-ers were on cue right up to the credits (and beyond). And they can dance like you wouldn't believe. Like my dad always says: Leave 'em wanting more. And we definitely left laughing too hard to breathe, leaning on one another in amazement and wondering if life would ever be the same. We know one thing for sure: that moment was sacred, and I for one can never really watch that film again. It just won't be the same.

These Parisians, I tell you what....they sure know how to have a good time.