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Saturday
18 September 99
9 21 pm edt
Yes, I did get home at 5 am yesterday (technically this morning). I
went to Nell's, a club at the end of the village (14th and 8th).
The person I was supposed to meet there didn't show up (or I didn't find
him) so I spent the evening by myself (technically, with various men).
The club was lovely: upscale, multi-ethnic, on. I danced
with Tony and Ozman (both of whom were Africans with thick accents that
made communication a challenge), and I sat on a chair and tortured
non-dancing Andrew, who was wearing a huge rhinestone-studded cross.
Interesting fashion statement. I refused all but one of the
offers to buy me a drink, and thus had a single weak screwdriver.
There was live music upstairs and hip-hop turned reggae downstairs.
I spent a good portion of the time observing, when I got too hot to dance.
At the end of the evening I was approached by Scott, who looked
exceptionally out of place there. He was dressed in (what I would
guess to be) an expensive suit (that looked like his father picked it out
for him). I said, "You're a little overdressed," (not that a suit
is inappropriate, but his suit was) and he said that he always was,
because of his job. I asked him what he did, and he said I wouldn't
believe him if he told me. This got my insatiable curiosity going,
and I asked several more times, while he declined to answer, until he told
me that he was an investment banker. I totally believed him; he
looked like a miniature investment banker (he was 21, and like me, he was
small and young looking). Anyway, we chatted a bit longer, and then
he said, "I bet I'm not the first guy you've told that to." He was
referring to my statement that my husband slept with my sister Leah, which
is a biblically accurate description of Rachel. Anyway, I suppose I
can conceivably understand thinking that is some sort of a line (maybe?),
but when I told him I have never said that to anyone before, he said that
he didn't believe me. I don't especially like be accused of lying,
so I told him that and left.
I mean I left the club. I was done with it, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to go home, or somewhere else. I whipped out my handy dandy listing of NY City clubs and selected Speeed (20 W. 39th Street). I began walking in the general direction, but I knew that I certainly couldn't walk all the way there in my dress shoes (I, in typical female fashion, love my shoes), so I was deciding what to do. Several guys said things to me as I walked down the street (my favorite of which was: "You have beautiful feet. Yummy."), but I finally fell into a conversation with three guys from "Philly". Tye, Tom, and a guy who works for Quest said they were heading to Limelight (660 Sixth Ave., at 20th St.), so I decided to join them. The club was a much younger crowd (it had the feel of kids sneaking in with fake ids) so I didn't like it as much, but it was much bigger and the (church) architecture was amazing. I stayed there until around 4 and then met Andre on the subway ride home.