My friend Lupe and I agreed to celebrate her birthday a few days early last Friday night. We had just talked about a new restaurant and whiskey bar at the end of the street from Curves where I work out and she shakes her money maker. Needless to say, Lupe knew exactly where she wanted to go.
The place is called ProAbition. Initially, I had noticed men in suits of all ages smoking cigars in the outdoor patio area when I drove by looking for parking. I didn't think women were allowed until they began to appear slowly but surely as the weeks went by. When I checked out their Facebook page, they had hosted burlesque dancers on opening night. I couldn't believe that I had missed it. One of my favorite movies is Moulin Rouge and I imagined the restaurant on ribbon-cutting day to have been a scene straight from the film.
As Friday approached, I went into panic mode, asking myself the dreaded question that strikes all women before hitting the town for the night: What am I going to wear? This question woke me up the morning of. I had told Lupe that I wanted to show cleavage again after a ten year hiatus. She, on the other hand, was going to wear a sundress. Postponing the inevitable--the moment I would step into my closet and give a deep I-have-nothing-cute-so-why-do-I-even-bother sigh--I enjoyed a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles instead. As I checked my Facebook page, I saw that Lupe had shared a post from ProAbition:
The place is called ProAbition. Initially, I had noticed men in suits of all ages smoking cigars in the outdoor patio area when I drove by looking for parking. I didn't think women were allowed until they began to appear slowly but surely as the weeks went by. When I checked out their Facebook page, they had hosted burlesque dancers on opening night. I couldn't believe that I had missed it. One of my favorite movies is Moulin Rouge and I imagined the restaurant on ribbon-cutting day to have been a scene straight from the film.
As Friday approached, I went into panic mode, asking myself the dreaded question that strikes all women before hitting the town for the night: What am I going to wear? This question woke me up the morning of. I had told Lupe that I wanted to show cleavage again after a ten year hiatus. She, on the other hand, was going to wear a sundress. Postponing the inevitable--the moment I would step into my closet and give a deep I-have-nothing-cute-so-why-do-I-even-bother sigh--I enjoyed a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles instead. As I checked my Facebook page, I saw that Lupe had shared a post from ProAbition:
IT WAS GOING TO BE 'THE GREAT GATSBY' NIGHT! My heart jumped with excitement. I texted Lupe right away, We gotta give costumes a try. It has been my dream to dress like a flapper. I would have done it last Halloween but I wasn't invited to any parties. Since then, I have decided to save the roaring 20's for my future house warming party, when ever that happens. I have had ample opportunities to buy the perfect fringed dress from some no-name clothing store in L.A. or Ross but because I have no place to wear it to, I didn't see the point in buying it. First rule in fashion: if you see it and like and it's priced right, just get it. You never know when you'll need it. Last Friday I kicked myself for not following such law. But I didn't panic. I knew I had something that would let me into Jay Gatsby's party. I had watched the movie the night before and was full of possible ideas. I wasn't going to let the $500 Grand Prize slip away so easily.
I found a black and grey dress that I wore to a wedding years ago that could work. And that's when I spotted a new blue flowy number I bought in January. I took a picture of both and sent them to Lupe. She expressed a liking for the latter but I still promised to go to the closest clothing store later that day. As predicted, I had no luck. But it all worked out because when I saw Lupe at Curves in the afternoon, she gifted me a head piece and a purse she had purchased at an antique shop earlier. It all went perfectly with my ensemble.
With the most important accessories in place, I was left to figure out what jewelry would go best with my attire. After toying with different combinations of blue and black pieces, I settled on pearls, mostly because I had agreed to meet Lupe at 7pm and it was already ten minutes past the hour. Since my purse was black, I pulled the look together with black t-strap heels and off I went.
I picked up Lupe at our fitness establishment and together we made our way to ProAbition. As I attempted to take a picture of the reflection of us on a storefront window, a random guy volunteered to capture us in our best attempts to play the role of Daisy. I will admit, I worried that he was going to run away with my camera. He didn't and here's the proof.
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| Lupe was PERFECTION! |
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| Our chauffeur. |
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| I yelled, "Lift a leg." She's so cute. |
All reservations were booked which meant we had to sit at the bar. We didn't mind because ProAbition, a piece of Fitzgerald's imagination, took our breaths away as soon as we stepped inside.
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| Lupe, giving her seal of approval. |
After securing a spot at the bar, we asked the bartender what she recommended. She quickly got to work on two "popular lady drinks."
"Who said we were ladies," I whispered in Lupe's ear.
We tried both drinks and I let Lupe choose the one she liked the best in honor of her birthday. She said the tall drink was too sour. I told her that it tasted like pepino con limon y chile. She agreed and opted for the short glass. Meanwhile, our friend Chris met up with us and the night was complete. We ordered blue cheese string fries because they were free with a coupon we received from Curves for giving blood the day before; that's the game of give and take.
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| Blue cheese string fries gone. |
It was very hard to decide on dinner. Once again, I allowed the soon-to-be birthday girl make the pick. She asked me if I had ever tried duck and surprisingly enough, I had. We agreed to share the duck and Chris opted for the ProAbition salad. We also ordered more drinks. Since ProAbition is a whiskey bar, Lupe asked for a round of Whiskey sours.
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| Before: Duck |
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| Salad |
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| After: duck. I joked that the white potatoes were the duck's eggs. |
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| Hydrated and fed, we were ready to mingle. |
We finished eating just in time for the big band to start playing. Unfortunately, Chris left because she had to work early the following morning. Lupe and I followed the crowd into the room with the music. We were overwhelmed by the decor and the sound and bottles floating about with sparklers on top to their respective owners (check out the flyer again and you'll know what I'm talking about).
In the middle of the second song, a group of people appeared on the dance floor. It was like someone had opened a 1920's time capsule and let them out. Their costumes seemed to be original pieces from the era in perfect condition along with their hair and dance moves. The guy, who I had the luxury of getting kicked by during a number, took turns twirling two girls around as the band played for them.
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| Phat Cat Swing |
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| I swear his coat was a 1920s original. |
Lupe had warned me she had to drive her hubby to work that night. At 10:30, when I succumbed to not having a partner or the faintest idea how to move to the music, I chose to leave with her. We walked to our cars, pulled out of the parking lot, and drove away. I was making a left turn when I saw Lupe waving at me. I made a u-turn and pulled up next to her when I noticed that my dashboard was dark and turned my lights on. Hence the waving of the arm; I had made a call as soon as I got into my car and got so distracted that I forgot to turn them on.
I drove home content. I had spent three hours at a really cool place with delicious food and awesome people. I couldn't wait to go to ProAbition again (Lupe was there the following night, that's how good it is). But I was glad that 20/20 would still be on when I got home.
