No...christ, I hope we don't go in there. That can't be where the party is. An Ameriwashed Mexican extravaganza of a building dubbed "The Alamo". The irony was barely sinking in as we got closer.
Bad basslines pulsing out into the frigid night. Bad lights inside the makeshift weather curtains. Crowds of people inside, unrecognizable behind the blurred sheets of plastic. Bad dancing. Baaaad.
But we go straight in of course. Well, this is the catered party. A DJ, colored lights, a projector, a dance floor shaped like the hall closet. The works. She went all out. It really was remarkable. Too bad I'm not of the disposition to enjoy these things.
The warmth was already bleeding out of my shaved head and I had the shivers in a perfect room temperature atmosphere. Naturally I went straight for the pitcher of mango margarita or whatever the hell flavor it was. Who cares. And then there were the pitchers of beer. Laid out on the table for any 8 year old to come by and pour a glass. It looked like lemonade. I brought this to my cousin's attention. Good influence.
Getting drunk was necessary to survive. That's just what I did. It helped the shivers a little. But not much.
After a few cups of beer I was lost in my own slow mover thought rotor and for long periods of time I would just stare out of the frosted plastic window at the blurred lights in the parking lot.
Well yes, you are a foxy lady. No no, I am quite interested in you, it is just that I approach a sort of autism at times like these. I'll just continue to watch you out of the corner of my eye. I hope you are a friend of the family. Same gene pool would be a little disconcerting. I'm pretty sure of the former. They tell me this anyway.
I watch them dance. How do they move so lightly? No, they are not movements of grace. But they are movements of a social freedom that I rarely enjoy with 20 people I don't truly know. I try to understand the behavior. I try to envision myself dancing along, singing the karaoke. It seems impossible. What is a human being?
A 2 hour drive past LA to get here. Was it worth it? Don't ask me. It meant something to them at least. And I suppose that makes me feel alright.
Bedtime for me.
