I Went to a “Fight Your Evil Situationship Boxing Rave”

“Forgive me, baby,” pleaded a shirtless boxer through a spittle-filled mouthguard to their ex-lover. The crowd’s boos echoed through thick fake smoke.

For years, Gen Z has been pigeonholed as the inside generation. Allegedly, Gen Z is lonely; Gen Z doesn’t dance or party or go to bars. I, a 24-year-old living in Brooklyn, have been sent to a “Fight Your Evil Situationship” Boxing Rave to see if this is what we do instead.

Walking upstairs into a cavernous, smoky room filled with my peers—clad in all haircuts and jean leg widths—I felt the bass before I saw the ring. I don’t know what I was expecting when I first came across the flyer for the event, which sought “fighters that will bring a slight horniness,” but it wasn’t an actual boxing ring. There it was, though, with ropes and strobe lights delineating the edges, and a DJ booth behind it. That was the least of the surprises of the night. 

Grownkid, the host of this event, is a “social club for 18- to 24-year-olds” started by Gael Aitor and Kayla Suarez. This is not the duo’s first foray into fight-centric partying; for Valentine’s Day this year, they held a wrestling speed dating night. And this very physical means of closeness—from modern medieval combat to lesbian oil wrestling to the (now mainstream, or at least corporatized) Twinks vs. Dolls showdown—has also been on the rise. In the same city, on the same weekend, Migo Events scheduled its Lucha Libre, promising freestyle wrestling and mariscos at a skate park.