>The Oh So Glamorous Life. Part II
>This morning I crawled into bed at 4:52am. This is exactly 24 hours after the last time I got out of bed.
Yesterday, Meg came to my office. In case you didn’t notice, Meg is my best friend. I asked her to bring me something chocolate from the drive through and she said she forgot. I was totally cool with it and I told her that it was no big deal. Then, she pulled a parcel from her purse. It was a bag from the Cheesecake Factory. I couldn’t believe it. I was so happy that I threw myself on the floor and moaned in ecstasy. She bought me a giant piece of Godiva cheesecake. (Why yes, we do have an incredibly professional work environment. Why do you ask?)
It was while I was rudely scarfing down the cheesecake that she asked me to go with her to the Blue Martini. I didn’t have a choice. I mean, she brought me cheesecake. It was decided that we would go and she would pick me up at 9:30pm.
I planned to wear a short black dress, but I left my only pair of shoes that go with the dress at my boyfriends house, so I went with jeans, a cute top, and a pair of one inch heels. I wore make up and before lipstick this is how I looked:
The Blue Martini and I have a history. That history is basically me going a few times and loathing it every time. I have been on Friday and Saturday a few times and that is sheer misery. It is packed to the gills and impossible to move. There is nowhere to sit or stand without being touched or jostled. The dance floor is small and surrounded by tables, but people are dancing everywhere. Generally, the crowd is so thick that it is impossible to walk through.
Tuesday night at the Blue Martini is Latin Night. We started the evening on the patio. They were out of the wine I wanted, so Meg chose a Chardonnay. We drank the first glass waiting for our friend, Anna. When she arrived we purchased glass two. We drank the second glass and suddenly Anna decided we were going to dance. I agreed with her. It was time to stop sitting. Meg was not happy, but we started dancing near our table and Meg got into it. Suddenly, Anna walked away. She came back bearing Latin men. I’ll admit it. I was terrified.
Now, I am not afraid of men or Latinos. I am afraid of dancing. I am a horrible dancer. Anna tried to show me, but she decided that I needed a man to lead. She brought back a man who was thrilled to pieces to dance with me. He didn’t seem to notice the look of sheer terror or maybe he mistook it for a drunken smile. Who knows? We were on the dance floor and I was trying. Anna was dancing with a total hottie nearby and she kept leaning over with helpful hints like “Relax” and “Let him lead.” I thought I was letting him lead.
Apparently, I was the furthest thing from relaxed. It’s hard to relax. This type of dancing requires being in very close proximity to a person that I don’t know. This guy bought Anna and I another glass of wine. I didn’t want it, but he seemed to really want to buy it and Anna was thirsty. We all talked for a while and then he got all Gropy Groperton on me. I was forced to give Anna and Meg “The Signal.”
“The Signal” is for when a dude is being a bit too familiar or creepy. When you are in a club, you keep an eye on your friends. If your girl tosses out “The Signal” you go rescue her. No matter what. You stop making out, dancing, brooding, or any other thing you are doing and you go take care of her. PERIOD. Meg saw it and in true BFF form she marched over, pushed him away, and dragged me off while I grinned apologetically.
Anna was not happy. She said “Oh no he didn’t!” and stomped off into the crowd. I yelled “Don’t hurt him!” She came back with A WHOLE GROUP OF CUBANS! Not kidding. She apparently tossed her dude cast net out and roped us some dudes who did not speak English. Greeeat. The guy who was tossed my way was approximately a foot shorter than me. He was wearing shoes that appeared to be made of crocodile or alligator. Anna demanded that we all dance, so we did. It was fun and the men kept their hands where they belonged. This made me happy.
I should mention that I look like a complete idiot when I am dancing. I do it with my eyes closed. I know it looks stupid or like I am really drunk, but there are so many commands being tossed out at once.
RELAX! DON’T LOOK AT YOUR FEET! LOOK AT MY FEET! FEEL THE MUSIC!
It’s enough to give this girl a complete panic attack. I was close to it and covered with sweat when Anna and Meg said we should go sit on the patio. We and our new found Cuban friends all headed to the patio where the men attempted to talk to us. They also requested that we speak to them in Spanish. We explained that our Spanish was worse than their English, so we kind of sat there looking at each other.
Anna was suddenly unwell. Not just queasy, she was about to be unconscious. I had two and a half glasses of wine over a 5 hour period, so I was totally fine, but she apparently had a lot more than me. The men scurried around while Meg and I barked orders at them. We had them go get us water and napkins. They obeyed without question. Meg went to get the car and told me to bring Anna out to the Valet. Anna demanded that I take off her shoes, but I am an idiot. I tried but I couldn’t get the things off. The men saw the problem and stopped the ridiculous wrestling match between me and her feet. Two men each took a foot and undid the ankle strap (that I hadn’t seen. /Facepalm)
We walked Anna to Meg’s car where she fell face first into the car. I thought she was going to try to sit up, but she simply lifted her feet up and I shut the door. The men said goodnight and headed off. We also headed into the night.
Anna sat up, rolled down the window, and hung out of the car. There was a police officer in front of us for a long time and Meg pleaded for dear life to get Anna back in the car, even giving her permission to vomit in the car. Anna wasn’t having it. We continued driving that way for a while and then Meg had to make a right turn. The road was closer than Meg had anticipated and she had to turn abruptly. Anna literally flew across the car and into the door, face first. Meg and I were horrified. We had asked her to put on her seat belt, but she was afraid to puke in the car.
Anna screamed “I BROKE MY NOSE!” Meg and I couldn’t speak for a moment because we were laughing so hard. After about 10 seconds, Meg regained composure and asked if she was bleeding. Anna screamed that she was, but we looked back and she was just a bit drooly from her mid ride flight. We tried so hard to stop laughing and if she had been hurt we would have stopped at once, but it was awful. We could not stop.
We found Anna’s apartment and helped her out of the car. The left side of Meg’s vehicle was now covered in oatmeal looking vomit. We were in giggles again. I got what was coming to me though. In helping Anna into the apartment, I was covered in her vomit. After everything else, it really didn’t seem like that big of a deal and, of course, we laughed about it.
We stopped at IHOP and had breakfast. We rehashed the entire evening and laughed until we nearly cried.
As I crawled into my bed, shortly before I had to get up, I found myself giggling about the weirdness of the whole night.