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Whirlwind | Awkward
"When I start makin' love
I don't just make love...
I be strokin'
That's what I be doin', huh
I be strokin'
I stroke it to the east
And I stroke it to the west
And I stroke it to the woman that I love the best
I be strokin'"
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I don't recall leaving the bar, nor do I recall the drive from Tripps to Chasens. Funny thing is, after all this time I'm remembering things in segments and frames.
So we're at the nightclub. Chasens was everything you could expect out of a premier, first rate, uptown, high class, night on the town... IN A HOLIDAY INN.
Mauve and teal formica. Mauve and teal furniture. Mauve and teal carpet. Mauve and teal artwork. Mauve and teal bartender uniforms. Even mauve and teal toilets.
Yes, this was the Eighties after all.
The club definitely had a redneck Bob Guccione skankness, but it was the only place the 20-30 set singles went. The proverbial Meat Market.
The "Regulars", as I called them, were almost like props on a set. You had your 'Roided-out, overtanned, racoon-eyed, waxed "Pumpers", in their Hammertime balloon pants and silk wifebeaters. Then there were "Cah Dealuhs" in their yellow ties, banker collars, cuff links, and slicked hair. There were always guys I knew from high school, friends. They wouldn't speak, they'd just bob their head up once in order to acknowledge, but not to break their "cool" factor. There were the "Lurches". These were the guys in sunglasses that stood arms crossed and didn't budge the whole night. There were "CarryOver Bettys" (these were the Bettys that didn't get picked up from Tripps). There were the "Queens of Planet Big Hair". One girl in particular I always referred to as "Hair Hitler". She was always there, always sitting in the same spot at the bar, and her hair would almost touch the overhead glasses rack. It seemed everybody was sporting the fresh baked, overdone, leathery booth tan.
Oh, I almost forgot, there were sequins. Lots of the women wore sequins. Now who in their right mind, who is not onstage singing Liza Minelli songs with a hidden adams apple, would wear sequins? Even then.
Everybody had their game.
Are you getting a feel for how much I hated this dive? I always felt so out of place there. I guess since I didn't have a crowd to be "IN", I could talk about everybody... It took the sting out.
The music was probably the worst part of Chasens experience. The DJ's musical taste ranged from "Unchained Melody", to that "Now I've had the time of my life..." song from Dirty Dancing, to Clarence Carter singing "Strokin'" then back to "Unchained Melody". Occasionally he'd throw a curve ball and play that "Pure Energy - I want to know, what you're thinking" techy song. I think he did that just to see the Pumpers do the Robot.
He always cranked the music up past full blast, all the way to distortion. Decibels? Yeah 110 - 220, whatever it took.
Now in the middle of all of this, I'm trying to be social and chat up the "single too" girl. After all we had ridden together from Tripps. We had history.
Our conversation got to the point where I would say something, she'd shout "WHAT?" as loud as she possible could, moving hair away from her ear, as she leaned in. "WHAT'D YOU SAY?"
I would then scream the comment back at her as loud as I possibly could.
I had enough of the screaming, I asked her if she wanted to go outside to talk.
She yelled back "NO. WHY?"
"Um... uh.... Ugh."
"Well fuck it then. Just quit trying." I thought to myself, and clammed up.
An hour later, I quietly drive her back to her car. We get to the parking lot, she opens her door. She starts getting out the car, she pauses... turns to me and asked...
"Are you gonna ask me for my number or what?"
Things are about to speed up.
5/25/2005 11:31:00 PM
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