While there are many advantages to having Mexican friends: getting to practice Spanish, getting invited to amazing homemade feasts, and of course the fact that Dad's friends are just cool people, the disadvantage is that Mexicans in general seem to have a completely different sense of time...meaning that if the party starts at 4pm and we get there at 6pm, it still might not actually start til 7pm (as was the case last BBQ). Knowing this I was tripping by 10pm when we still hadn't firmed up our salsa plans. I did, however, decide that if they flaked out, I would go anyway.
So around 10:00pm on Saturday night, I got all dolled up and walked down to Casa Colima where there was allegedly going to be a DJ and some salsa music. I made my way to the second floor which I had never been on before. There were tables and chairs bordering a nice sized hardwood dance floor. Against the wall was a dj podium with a man in a suit spinning cumbia.I took a seat at an empty table, joining the 7 other people in the club. Yup. Living in America has made me perpetually early for everything. My CP time is way off. So I ordered a drink. The server brought it to me and opened a tab, and then circled me a few times before coming back and asking me "Are you alone?" I looked from my left to my right before confirming. Yes. I was alone. She kind of laughed awkwardly then rephrase. "No, but did you come here alone?" I nodded. She introduced herself as Marisol. 5 minutes later the people at the next table, a 22 year old black cuban girl named Renee, approached me. "Are you alone?" she asked. By this time I was feeling very self conscious. Yes, I answered. This seemed very upsetting to her, so she invited me to join her at her table where she was sitting with her boyfriend, his brother and the brother's wife.
More people began to trickle in and I noticed 2 things...1) Renee and I were the only non-Mexicans in the room and 2) everyone was arriving like Ark animals 2 by 2. That's right, the only people who weren't in pairs were the servers, the dj, and the waitstaff. Also while there was some salsa being played it was mostly cumbia interspersed with merengue and ranchero which I think of as Mexican polka. The women and I danced a bit in a group, then we sat and people watched.
More people arrived, gentleman dressed like gauchos with their cowboy hats and boots and large belt buckles, ladies in all shapes and sizes stuffed into improbably tight jeans and halter tops. And then the music stopped and the dj announced that in addition to dancing there would be karaoke. One of the beautiful parts about singing karaoke in Japan is the invention of private booths. You and your party which could be any size from 2-100 or more had your own private show, which means you can sing as much as you want and as many times as you want and also, only the people with you can hear it. After about two songs I was wishing these people had booths. I have no love of long yodeling Mexican ballads. The best thing that can be said of it was that after five songs the dj played another set of music, but shortly 1am when the next set of karaoke began, I thanked my table hosts and walked home.
On the walk there were two young white guys standing by the bus stop. I thought briefly about crossing the street to avoid them, as it was about 1:30am, but they seemed harmless enough and what good is having a black belt if you have to be afraid to walk around at night.
"The party's over huh?" One them inquired as I passed by.
"Yup," I responded.
"Walking home alone?" he asked.
"Yup," I said not breaking my stride though inwardly irritated by this wealth of strangers who seem to be taking personal offense to a woman who might want to go out alone.
"You don't have to be," he said. "I'd be happy to walk you home."
"Nope. That won't be necesary," I replied.
"No really. I'd loved to..." he'd persisted.
"Don't make me stab you with my high heels," I answered and with that, made my way home alone without any further issues or conversation.
Really though people, I felt like I was having a Carrie Bradshaw single girl moment. It's much less funny when it's not on tv. Is this what I have to look forward to throughout the rest of my 30s? Something to contemplate...
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