Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Holiday Party On!

It’s the holiday season so you know what that means party, party, party! I had my university alumni party, my sorority holiday party, my condominium association party, a political activists party, a friends birthday party all scheduled for one week. My party was schedule was full for the entire week, then the Super Sistah invited me to what promised to be the party with the most dating potential, the Council's holiday party. I heard about this organization. The Politician told me to join months earlier for my future career in public service. The Politician is a friend of mine who holds a local office and he is hot. He is well dressed, in good shape, smart with a career and ambition and he was a member of the Council. In my world this is a combination that is hard to find. Perhaps at the party there would be others. I had one problem. My sorority party planned for the same day, but that would be mostly women. I couldn’t miss the Council

“What time does the Council party end?”

“Midnight”

The sorority event ended at 9pm.

“Super, I am there!”

I am infamous for going to parties and not speaking to anyone (correction to any men). I have no problem talking to women. If I was a lesbian, I would be hot stuff, plus I am a great date. Men... that’s the problem (correction attractive men that’s the problem). In general I usually don’t have a problem talking to anyone I don’t find attractive. When I am at a party, I usually wait to see who is going to approach. My game has always been dress nice, look cute, do a two step, drink wine and they will come. They do come. The trouble is when they come they are usually not the ones I want to talk to or date.

The Wife (formerly the Bride you remember her for the wedding day post) as usual lectured me on my problem. “They don’t come to you anymore. The good looking men are use to women approaching them and they are afraid.”

“Afraid? How could they be afraid? They are hot and they are men. It’s their role to hunt. It’s their job to seek out what they want. What happened to the natural order of things?”, I usually quip back.

Before she got married the Bride was a professional dater. She went on many dates usually with decent men. Maybe she was right.

Either way it didn’t matter this was the Council's holiday party. It only happened once a year. I couldn’t let this pass me by without taking full advantage. I couldn’t go empty handed I needed something to break the ice. I needed a line. Not a corny line. Something simple something sophisticated; one that didn‘t make me seem like I was trying too hard. I knew just who to ask, Celeste the Thespian Lesbian. You probably think its odd for me to ask a lesbian how to pick up men, but I have seen this girl in action.

“I got gay bashed when I was in the 5th grade.” Celeste said. “After that, I always made sure I had a boy around, a cute one, because I had to have a boy toy.” She has since embraced her sexual preference and feels no need to date men, but retained her skills nevertheless.

“Men like to feel needed. Just ask them questions. Didn’t you say you wanted to join the Council? ”

I was considering joining the Council. I had it. I could start off with “Are you a member of this organization?”

“If they are then you can ask questions about how membership has benefited him. Get him talking about himself.”

It was perfect. On that bitter cold night. I met The Super Sistah at the chic lounge in the meatpacking district dressed perfectly in my form fitting a gray dress that was just too short to actually wear to work. The Super was the epitome of elegance in her purple sleek dress. Corporate sexy we were, pulling it off like pros and don't forget, I had my killer line “Are member of this organization”. Now it was time.

We looked out over the balcony and there was a sea of men all in suits. A beautiful well tailored suit is my weakness. I personally believe a suit makes everything look good.

“Hey Super. Do your people dance?”

No one was dancing. Everyone was just standing around talking, but the music was to loud for anyone to really have a conversation.

“Why do they have to be my people?” She always says that. The Super is Canadian and very proper. I get a kick out of calling her bougie.

We step out into the party and all around us people were kissing one another on the cheeks. The Super Sistah and I are both writers, bloggers and wall flowers. This is an awful combination if you intend on networking, but I had a mission. I had to speak to someone. I knew exactly what would take the edge off.

“Lets get the wine!” That was the best idea I had all night. Then I saw someone I knew.

“You look really familiar.”

“Poetry reading a few weeks back in Harlem.” She said. (I know, I know a She.)

I remembered the sister well. She did the poem about going to grad school. It was her. She had the same short afro but the blue cocktail dress was quite different from the leggings she wore to the poetry show.

“Are you member?” I asked (I know I wasn’t supposed to use the line on a woman, but if she was maybe she could introduce us to some men. Then the Super and I could get some cheek kissing action going.)

“No, I'm here to see if I could find a date.”

“You too.” I laughed hysterically.

“Good luck, I made eye contact with five guys and none of them spoke.”

She made eye contact. I never do that. There is was no hope for me. I aborted the mission and opted to instead to indulge in a glass of pinot noir and enjoy the rest of the evening as much as you can enjoy a party where no one dances or speaks.

As the party wound down, the Super Sistah and I retired to the balcony to beat the crowed to coat check. We looked down swaying to the latest R& B song and sipping the last of our wine.

“One day. We are going to be at a party like this and everyone is going to be there to see us”, I said.

“I already visualized it”

At tap of glass between two friends who bonded over a lousy job, broken hearts and love for writing. I looked over and imagined. We were two queens observing our admires.

“Hello.” It was the end of the night and someone was speaking to me and it was a man! He was dressed well, spoke well, but he was a little to old. He wasn’t dating material but a little conversation never hurt anyone.

“Are you a member of the organization?” He asked.

Wait a minute! That was my line. The one I was supposed to use to meet men, but only spoke to girl from the poetry reading. Here this guy was using it get my attention. Guess what? It works! He probably used it all night.

It was too late now. The party was almost over and people were making their way to coat check.

I responded the way any lady in my position would, “No, but I am thinking about joining”.

2 comments:

  1. Loved this one from start to finish!!!

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  2. Besides the kick ass writing that recaptured the night in word painting pictures, how could I not like a post that describes the Super Sistah as elegant. Here's to the New Year and new experiences.

    the Super Sistah

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