Yep, that could have been part of it. It could also have had to do with the following: that the nightclub in question was M:2, a west Chelsea venue of a particularly cheesy variety; that the music pulsing on the club’s cavernous dance floor included selections from Justin Timberlake, Coldplay, LIPPS Inc. (“Funkytown”), and Daft Punk (“One More Time” (“we’re gonna celebra-a-ate…oh, yeah…all right…don’t stop the dancin’…”)); that one of the screens running the slideshow set up by charity : water—yes, the ones depicting several images of African children gratefully slurping, essentially, mud—was unfortunately located directly above an enormous bar that featured no water, but beverages of almost every other variety; that the cost of said beverages was not included in the $20/$40/$60/$120 ticket price; that said cost was $16 (for cocktails) and $8 (for beer), before tip; and that the drinks’ proceeds did not go to the charity.

As @stabitha put it: “Um, so fuck the price of drinks at @nyctwestival. Water charity, but whiskey is $16? Suck it.” @EvilPRGuy echoed: “Dear #nyctwestival It’s hard to stomach $16 drinks while watching videos of people drinking polluted water, we could have donated that $ too.”

So, then. To extrapolate a bit from all this: many of its attendees wanted last night’s Twestival to be a Tweetup. They wanted community, jollity, easy collegiality; what they got instead was a club scene, distinguished from any other only by a slightly-higher-than-normal ratio of iPhones to Amstels. But, still, if Twestival—and its hundreds of attendees—shows anything, it’s that Twitter is growing. And going, in the process, from, you know, geek to chic. “I have never seen so many people Twittering in one place at one time,” @thebigm marveled. “I feel, well, normal.”

Megan Garber is an assistant editor at the Nieman Journalism Lab at Harvard University. She was formerly a CJR staff writer.