Last Thursday night...oh boy, last Thursday night...I tell you what (she says in her best Hank Hill impersonation), sometimes I wonder if I'm 32 or 23...seriously, because I make these CONSCIOUS, SOBER choices that are just so immature and STUPID!!!
So it's my last night of freedom and I decide to check out La Bola at Gonzalez y Gonzalez (that was pretty uneventful, except for the two drunks who fell outside on the sidewalk in a laughing fit and Evelyn NOT SHOWING UP!) and then head up to Dyckman to see Sergio Vargas in concert.
First let me say that although I'm Dominican and like to talk a good game, I grew up in BK and The Heights scare the shyt outta me. For real. So not really knowing where I was on Dyckman, trying to find some wack ass club BY MYSELF...I swear I felt like I was in an urban horror movie: dark shrubbery to my right, housing projects to my left.
When I finally found it, sometime around 12:30AM, one of the ladies outside the club informs me that they are not letting anyone in yet. At 12:30AM. Oh, my bad. I guess they were operating in DP time...
So I wait around, because gosh darn it! I love love love Sergio Vargas, and it was my last night of freedom, and I'd made the trek all the way uptown. And then I realized how under dressed I was. All the other ladies were exposing breasts or legs or both. They had on layers of make-up, and their hairs were flawless. I foolishly showed up in my usual Brooklyn/Lower Manhattan bohemian style: jeans, top, flats, hair tucked away in a bun, only a smidgen of make-up. What they hell was I thinking?
But again, I was not leaving. Sergio was just moments away, I could almost feel it! So I waited, paid the extremely RIDONCULOUS cover (don't they know who I AM???) and stood around, BY MYSELF downing whiskey and coke and waiting for my man to take the stage.
Which he finally did at around 3AM.
So what time did you leave, Raquel?
I made it to the Dyckman station of the A-train by about 4:15AM
And what time did you make it home to SOUTHERN BROOKLYN?
Hmmm, like 6AM or so?? Yeah, six-ish. And genius that I am, I decided that I'd take a quick nap before showering and dressing for work, even set my phone for 7:20, and then laid my pretty little head down on my pillow.
So at 11AM, when I finally made it to work, I was convinced that Sergio Vargas had cost me job. But it would have been absolutely worth it, because from my spot on the dance floor, he could see me staring up at him in adoration, and pointed to me when he sang the lyric, "...la quiero a morir..." That alone would have kept my spirits up while on line at unemployment.
*smooches...sooooo lucky that everyone at work was on vacation but me..."
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If I expected love when first we kissed
Blame it on my youth
If only just for you I did exist
Blame it on my youth
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