dancingirl

so i finally made it to the juke joint, the saloon i'd been invited to many times over my time at my current place of employ. this guy who looks so much like an old dear friend of mine, and has long hair, hosts musicians for what is, essentially a jam session.

well, i showed up and the place was all dudes. not so good. but they weren't creepy dudes, and i sat with the musicians. kenny, a nice percussionist and i got along. go figure. they were all my age, perhaps slightly older, very talented. a very famous person's son jams on bass each sunday at this joint, which is also why i wanted to go and had forgotten. i had to go. need shit to write about, you know.

so it's late, i'm off work and wide awake.

when i walk into the joint, i order a margarita, and it's a shots and beer joint (no wonder no chicks were there, they'd do more chick business if they splurged and bought a blender).

this guy at the bar knows me because i've taken to wearing some jewelry at work that shows my personality. a double silver choker yesterday, and he says,

hey, i remember that necklace.

and we chat a bit. but the guy who invited me is right there and i follow him to the crowd of musicians.

do you want to read some poetry?

here?

yeah, sure.

um, i don't know that it would go over so well.

we're laid back.

we'll see.

so this guy is up there jamming and singing margaritaville or something similar, and he's quite good. so i park myself by kenny and we talk about converse.

i'm trying to calculate how much i can drink and still get home safely since i've not eaten for hours. and i'm slighter of frame, so i can't hold my liquor anymore. i decide not to over think it and we have time.

a girl walks in, beautiful, dark curly hair, we could have been sisters (that was the refrain we kept hearing). she sits by me, and eventually we talk.

then they all got up to jam, and she and i are grooving to the tunes in our seats, and mention how we should dance.

i'll be the feet if you are the hips.

so i retrieve my hip scarf and we are in the back of the room dancing, when the musicians hear my coins. the whole place kind of cranes the neck and the musicians demand we dance in the middle of them.

so, for the first time, i've danced in a room full of men and it was great. there was one other chick there, she carried an african hand drum and sat with the musicians jamming. i didn't meet her, but she had clearly been there many times.

we danced for what seemed like forever, i turned to the guy i knew and said,

how long will you play this song?

as long as you keep dancing.

he said with a smile.

and we finally stopped. went to the bar and got water. the salsa girl was teaching me the basic salsa steps, and since belly dance was the only dance she'd never been trained in, i showed her some isolations.

more jamming ensued, and at one point, we got up again and danced some more. they kicked us out just before one, but it was amazing.

i realized, the musicial crowd is a nice comfortable crowd for me. it reminds me of all the clubs i frequented as a kid, and how easily i fall in with musicians. while i can't have a technical discussion, i can state my preferences.

one guy kept lacing his improv with zep riffs, and i called him on it.

zeppelin, ha?

you caught that?

yes.

had a zeppelin cover band, we broke up.

form a new one.

it's not that easy.

and a couple of these guys come from orange county, north of where i live, so it was nice to meet some souls from my neck of the woods.

there was something of desire in their eyes. desire for their art, and that is nice to see. artists actually doing their thing. all of us. i didn't hang with the drinkers, but with the musicians. and as an artist, (though i know i was shaking my ass. it was noted that a tambourine like that is "what i need"), but it was all in good fun. i drove away laughing. but i saw how much these guys were willing to give up to do this. to drive to this little empty bar and jam for a few hours.

have to get up at seven.

right.

and he didn't even leave when i left. it was nice though, the whole thing.

i just keep telling myself, dance every dance girl.

and the guy who invited me walked over smiling ear to ear,

i had no idea.

(but he did, he just forgot). i had mentioned it to him when we first met.

off to work. the business of training a replacement begun. before things are even set in motion, i am fashioning an exit.

my boss said this morning,

you can't wait to get out of here.

i'm just ready. it's time.

i rode the kid i don't trust anymore last night and for the first time he argued with me. while i'm refreshed by someone telling me what they think, there is and isn't a time for it.

i'm told i need to fix this before i leave but i would have called anyone on the amount of time it took to make three drinks. even if you only have one bar. it took too long. but there is nothing for me to say. i spoke a bit to him, but i simply am out of words. it happens.