Mexico City Journal
Met a beautiful friend of F__'s who is closer to my age. We went and ate, and even though I don't speak Spanish and she only spoke the most rudimentary English, we hit it off. Soon hands were comfortably held and hair was comfortably stroked. We were at some restaurant that looked like a club, and turns out, it was a club, just an empty club that serves food until it gets busy. (The food in Mexico City, btw, has been amazing.) Soon we're dancing and everyone is watching us but we don't care. We turned a bunch of straws into a headband and she's now a hippie and we're both hippie-dancing, and now we're 80s-dancing to 80s music.
We pick up F__'s girlfriend and her sister. Then we all drive to a tiny pseudo-punk pseudo-dive bar (but whose bathrooms are both seriously punk and seriously dive-y.) Two of F__'s brother's friends are in an all-girl band that is playing their last show. They've been together for five years. Afterwards, there is a party at one of the band member's apts. I've met both of the girls, since both have been recording in F__'s studio. (F__ is a director and his office space has a large fully-equipped recording studio.)
A metal band is playing when we get there. The disgust is obvious in F__'s girlfriend and sister's face - esp. the sister's. The band isn't very good but they end with a classic Iron Maiden song which is heavier, more powerful, and more awesome than any of their own material, which was all very pop-y and conservative (much like the fashion show I saw here last week). Anyway, the next band was pop-punk. F__ and his posse was losing interest. Sister mocked Metallica, so I grabbed her shoulders and shook her back and forth screaming, Mah-tale-eh-ka, Mah-tale-eh-ka. She was laughing but I was half serious, and after I let her go she reprimanded me like a dog and said, You're very bad.
Finally, the girl-band started and they were damn good. After the second song, F__ said it was time to leave. Fuck that, I thought, so I said I'd stay. So the cute girl left along with F__'s crew. I blew her kisses, mimed a tear, and then shrugged my shoulders. She nodded and that was that.
The band was good but I was tired. When they finished I went to the dingy bathroom, and when I came back the band was gone. I went to the waitress and asked where the backstage was. She didn't understand, so I drew a picture on her notepad. It had a picture of backstage, the name of two of the band-members, and an arrow that pointed to a car that was to drive a picture of me to a cartoon home. She took it to someone who spoke English (which was disappointing since I thought my note could be understood in any language) and they took me backstage.
I hugged and swung Band-Member Number 1 in a big circle and told her I loved their show. She asked if I was going to the after party. Yes, I said, but I need to make sure I have a ride home. Oh, she said, Well I'm sure Band-Member Number 2 would love to give you a ride home. Cool, I said, because I'm yours tonight, since I just lost my sure ride. Good, she said, then you will be mine tonight. But ask Band-Member Number 2 first, ok? Yes, I said.
So I ran into F__'s brother who was the producer for the band. I'm leaving now, he said, do you need a ride? Yes, I said, but you're not going to the after party? No, I have to work tomorrow. Ok, I said, But I'm going to see if Band-Member Number 2 can give me a ride. He replied, Sure, but I'm leaving soon.
And I couldn't find Band-Member Number 2, so just to be safe I catch a ride with F__'s brother, the Producer. And nearly immediately, he drives the wrong way down a one way onramp. Yikes. And a little bit later he drives the wrong way on a roundabout. We are all laughing and I am wondering if he's drunk. Then I scream, That's rock and roll! and we all laugh.