Yesterday, Jackie told me that we were going to hit up a Halloween party with her grad school colleagues seven hours before the fact. I was packed and practically out the door when she texted, I already bought the tickets. My initial reaction was, Ugh, because I had planned on self-pampering, you know, like eyebrow plucking and nail painting. That, and I had absolutely no idea what I was going to dress up as. Therefore, I didn't know what kind of shoes or bra to tow with me.
The I'm-going-to-take-this-evening-for-myself concept was just a nice idea, though. I had forgotten that Jackie and I had a date at the mall. Her friend was hosting a Halloween bash on Saturday and we had to put a costume together. We were too cheap to buy a slutty, over-priced ensemble from Party City but also way too original for something like that. Jackie wanted to be Thing 1 and Thing 2. Even though we only had a few hours to spare, the goal remained the same: two red dresses, blue hair dye, iron-on decals. There was no room for pickiness. So off we went, only to be stuck on the 5 freeway at 7pm.
We hit the JCP clearance rack as soon as we got there. I found a strapless piece with a tutu built in for $8.97. I thought it was perfect but the smallest size they had was an 8 and Jackie isn't so I put it back. Off the same rack, we picked two other dresses and went to the fitting room. Option number one was a lacy number that made us feel blagh. The second had a big ass flower in the front. I yelled at Jackie from my room to hers two doors down, I feel like I have a third boob. But the rest of the dress fit our bodies pretty good. Mine made me look like I had a butt. And the ruffles across the front hid our pouches discreetly. Less than $20 later, we were on our way to Spencers, but not before satisfying our sweet tooth with chocolate chip cookies from Mrs. Fields.
After purchasing two cans of blue hair spray, one for Friday and the other for Saturday night, Jackie's mission was to find red fishnets or leg warmers. We got lucky at Kohl's. Not so lucky because the leg warmers were over-priced for my taste, $15, but Jackie got a 15% discount so that made me feel a little better. Plus, I'll be wearing the same costume tonight so I'm going to get my money's worth.
We needed one more thing, the Thing 1 and Thing 2 decals. So a few blocks from the mall we found a Michael's where we bought two white felt squares for 33 cents each, a fabric marker, and fabric paint. The 5 freeway was empty and we got home in record time.
While Jackie shaved, I took the initiative to play with my makeup. Using a few examples Jackie had sent me days earlier, I applied blue eye shadow and colored my eyebrows orange with face painting colors I bought for Halloween. Jackie said we should wear red lipstick to go with the dress, and after the reapplication of my eyeliner, my face was set.
In the meantime, we asked my dad to make the Thing 1 and Thing 2 signs for us since I needed to do Jackie's makeup and spray our hair blue. He used a bowl to trace a perfect circle. Then Jackie found an image of the Dr. Seuss characters online and we trusted him to write the lettering too. Meanwhile, Jackie and I took turns getting high off of a can of spray paint.
I had already glued my decal on to my dress when I read that we had to let it dry for 24 hours. But we are problem solvers. Two safety pins later, we were out the door, again.
The place was called The Belasco. There was a line to get in. Men with lightsabers pointed towards the various parking lots we could choose from. I went into one of the ones with a $3 sign. When I pulled up, the teenager said, $15. I said out loud, Of course. As Jackie pulled out the $20 bill, I asked him, So what's the $3 sign for? He said, The first 15 minutes. I said, You're good. Your boss is good. I kept a straight face. He kept a straight face. I put my car in park and down the street we went to mingle with the other sluts.
I liked the music I heard as we waited in line, merengue or reggaeton. As the bouncer checked our IDs, Jackie asked if we were in the right place since we were supposed to be at a USC event. He then pointed us in the right direction--around the corner, in the basement. Not creepy at all.
We picked up our tickets at Will Call and then were escorted deeper and deeper into the basement of the club. We walked into a room with about five people and Jackie and I couldn't believe that the event was dead. But we saw others walking past another door and we followed them. That's where a white guy in a suit pointed down a staircase. I told Jackie, I hope your people aren't playing classical music or else we're coming back up. She agreed.
The basement was bumping. One could hardly walk. The DJ was blasting hits in Spanish. I was in love. All I needed was a drink.
I thought a broken computer was keeping us from getting to the front of the line and ordering a couple of Washington Apples but I think the three servers were just not enough for the packed house. I was standing in line when I spotted my friend's sister, who also happens to live an hour away and yet, there we were. The jams hit my soft spot and I danced right there in line. El General, La Sonora Dinamita, Mary J. Blige. You name it, the DJ worked it. He changed the music up the way I like. I cannot stand a club with a theme. I get bored of only 80s, or salsa, or hip hop, or Top 40. There was not one Top 40 hit played last night. Jackie and I caught a beat of "Blurred Lines" embedded into another track, but that was it. The DJ played to my generation, stuff from the 90s and early 2000s and I can't say it enough, I loved every minute of it. As soon as Jackie and I had our drinks in our hands, I headed straight to the dance floor. Jackie was hesitant. She wanted to walk around and find her classmates. But they found her and joined us instead. Jackie had no choice but to go along with her crowd.
Jackie introduced me to everyone. One of her friends would not believe that we were sisters.
"Half sisters, right," he asked me.
"Full-blooded sisters," I replied, "as far as I know. You can go question my mom, though," I said.
While Jackie was taking pictures with her friends, I danced with two drinks in my hand by myself. A guy in a jersey tapped my shoulder and asked me to dance. His profile wasn't too shabby but he was wearing a red football jersey. I will admit that I discriminated him based on his poor fashion sense. First, I couldn't even tell if he was wearing a costume or if he was sporting his regular attire. Second, if he was dressed up, he lacked creativity because he obviously just grabbed something from his closet. Third, I was holding Jackie's drink in my hand and I didn't want to just walk away. So I declined with a, Not right now, maybe later. Staring straight ahead, he made an Alrighty-then face and walked away.
I'm telling you, I loved this place. Tune after tune, my hips just kept moving. So much that it attracted the same groper twice. This is the thing. Most chicks on the dance floor are drunk. They also have their breasts and asses hanging out of their outfits, whether they're wearing a Halloween costume or not. These girls who have lost half of their decision-making abilities allow gropers like the one who pulled me in close to his crotch to bump and grind them. Well, that's not me. You have to be a pretty special fella to stand behind me and place your hand on my stomach to bring me in close. As soon as I felt a hand that was not mine on my Thing 1 decal, I turned around and swatted the fool in a Scream mask off me. The same thing happened to another girl in our group and she almost elbowed the bastard. So guys, if you're reading this, please ask us if we want to dance before attempting to rape us with our clothes on. I should've elbowed my groper, though, because he came in for a second feel. Some guys are so desperate. For a couple of bucks, he wouldn't have had to fight so hard with a girl down the street.
Jackie's friends decided to go up to the main floor and join the non-Masters of Social Work crowd. The place was awesome!
We hadn't made it to the dance floor yet when Jackie already had a Cuban after her. He asked what she was and she said Mexican. Then she proceeded to introduce me as her sister and he didn't believe her either. He didn't believe I was Mexican and for the first time ever, someone took me for White. It was very dark in there, you see, and my red lipstick might have given me a more pale complexion.
We didn't last long in there. It was packed. Horny guys weren't letting us dance. So we returned to our more comfortable basement. It was there that Jackie's night took a sour turn. One of her classmates took her out for a spin on the floor. A few minutes later, she checked her handbag and her cell phone was missing. She said her handbag, which hung across her body, opened when she was dancing. She skimmed the floor but saw nothing that might have fallen out. We asked a security guy if they had a lost and found and he sent us to the coat room. There, the other security guard said we'd have to wait until the club closed to check. Downstairs again, we asked the hot cowboy bartender without luck. He asked the girl dressed like a baseball player and we struck out. Jackie tried being a good sport by trying to forget her misfortune by hitting the floor with me before they closed.
A guy with a nose that reminded me of Bob Saget's asked me to dance but I didn't want to leave Jackie alone. Then Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum insisted we danced with them, one of them in a football jersey and another in Scream mask. No thank you. We'd had enough of that for one night. There was one guy who was actually taller than me who said he'd dance with us both and strutted his stuff right then and there. He took a closer look at Jackie and said, She has the moves right there, and then took off to someone who'd appreciate his time and effort.
The balls of my feet were fried by this point. It was almost 2am, closing time. I suggested to Jackie that we sit until they kicked us out but a cool jam like El General or Pitbull started playing and I'd stay glued to the floor. Until I couldn't anymore. We found a booth and sat for about 10 minutes. That's when all the securities, Black and brown, tall and short, slim and fat, escorted us towards the exit. Jackie reminded them about her phone but no one had found anything. They gave us a business card and told us to call back on Monday. That's an eternity for anyone whose lifeline is their phone.
We crossed the street, passed on the LA street dogs, and drove home. I felt bad for Jackie losing her phone but I couldn't wait to go back to Belasco again.
I laid in bed happy. I'd had fun. My butt was sore from dancing. I heard a constant ringing. That was music to my ears.
