Exclusivity
I wanted to share this story because it was a lesson in how hindsight affects the total experience.
The Friday before Valentines Day my girl Melissa and I planned to go out. Seeing as how I had just quit my night job, I was free to do just that. To celebrate my newfound freedom we decided to go down to South Beach for dinner and drinks.
It was cold that night, a grueling 50 degrees, so I had to bundle up by wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and matching jean jacket, my favorite long sleeved, multicolored Express shirt with the tail peeking out beneath the jacket and some pointy toed, high heeled boots. I thought I was casually cute.
I called Melissa to see what she was wearing. “Girl, I have on some jeans, a leather jacket and a scarf, it’s cold out.”
She came to pick me up and we rode the expressway all the way to Alton Road. The whole ride I’m cracking up as Melissa explains her latest philosophy.
I looked over at her wild afro and corn rows and said, “Girl, you know we livin it up in Miami. Soon, we’re gonna look back on these days and think, Damn we had so much fun. But life is gonna get serious in a minute. All kinds of serious.”
“Look girl. I understand that. That’s why right now I’m all about doing exactly what I want to do and NOT doing anything I don’t want to do.”
Damn. What a way to look at things. Kinda immature, but when you think about it, she has no kids, no bills and a wealth of talent. Right now is the time for her to chase her dreams. She is a singer and an actress. Right now is the time to live life to the fullest before she has obligations.
“Damn I love Miami. It’s so pretty,” she says as we both stare in awe at the scenery.
Both of us grew up here. But having strict parents as children eventually paid off, because now as adults, we’re experiencing the Miami night life for the first time. Each trip to South Beach is an adventure. The experience is never the same. A few weeks ago we made the trip down to SoBe (South Beach) specifically for a Karaoke night and spent the entire time singing in a bar. And YES, I sang. One of my songs was, ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ by Whitney Houston. I even sang, “Baa Baa Black Sheep’. Me, a microphone and a drunk audience- ahh, It was definately a memorable night.
So as we’re driving around trying to find parking, my phone rings and it’s a guy friend, Stu.
“Where are you guys?” he asks. I told him that we would be down there and he said he would be on the Beach too.
“We’re on Alton Road trying to park, where are you?”
“I’m at the Delano, having drinks. Where are you trying to hang tonight?”
“We’re trying to get something to eat and then go for drinks. We’re in between 10th and 12th. We’ll call you when we find a spot.”
Thank God we came early, because South Beach is a place that you kinda give up on if you try to go too late. There is absolutely NO PARKING after a certain time. But it was early round 9:30 so we found a spot. “See,” Melissa said. “I told you we had a chance in hell of finding a spot.”
While she fished around in her purse for coins to feed the meter, I stepped out to check to see if there was any time left on it. I squinted my eyes at a sticker someone had left there. It was a price tag that said: $999.99. I thought that was funny.
Just as I was about to tell Melissa she’s gonna need a lot more change than she thought I caught sight of a cab pulling up abruptly right next to Melissa’s car. A conservative black guy popped out and asked, “Do you need change for that?”
I quickly looked away. Nicca I don’t know u.
He walked closer to me and I tilted my head to the side. Ohhh.. that’s Stu. LOL!
“Boy, don’t be rolling up on us like that.”
“Why not? See, that’s why I don’t get Black women today. You don’t even wanna give a brotha the time of day. I was just being nice.”
Melissa gets out of the car and I introduce her to Stu. We all walk across the street while Stu rants about how he’s through with Miami women. Melissa thinks Stu is the type to date white women, but he says that’s not true. He’s 31. Black professional. Homewowner. Single. No Kids. Attractive in a boy next door type of way.
“So what are you gonna do?” he asks us.
“Well,” I say. “Melissa wants to eat so we’re gonna eat and then go for drinks.”
“Where you gonna eat?” he asks.
“I don’t know, we’re just walking.”
“But where will ya’ll be?” Damn, he asks a lot of questions.
“Look, we’re just walking and looking at people and we have no plan. We’re just having fun.”
“Well, I’m gonna go back to The Delano for more drinks and you guys can let me know what you’re gonna do later.”
“Oh no you’re not. You’re hanging with us and you’re not going anywhere! So calm down and let’s walk.”
We end up at the Clevelander’s Sports Bar for some chicken wings and juice. We chat it up and watch as Laila Ali fights some woman who looks like a man.
Afterwards it’s still early so Stu suggests we stop by this club he wants to go to. When we get there the lady at the door says the party doesn’t start until 11:30 until then there are only letting in people with dinner reservations.
So we head on through the crowd down Ocean Drive. Even though it’s cold out, it’s still packed. We walk through several outside restaurants and people enjoying the chilly night air.
“Let’s go to Fat Tuesdays,” Melissa tells me.
“Ok, I’ve never been,” I say. She rolls her eye and looks at me incredulously.
“Don’t forget,” I whisper. “I am still new to the party scene.”
We roll up into Fat Tuesday and I head straight for the bar.
This one chick is standing there and she’s eying me and smiling. I smile right back boldly.
I order my shot of tequila and we make our way to the dance floor.
There are all kinds of people up in Fat Tuesdays. A lot of white people, a lot of Hispanics and a lot of people on dates. I’m not really in the mood yet so I kinda stand back and watch everyone and try to avoid extended eye contact with the men. I’m not in the mood for that tonight.
I’m watching this one Black couple on the wall. They were both extremely attractive. He was tall, light skinned and well built. She had a coke bottle figure and long weave. It seemed as if they were oblivious to everyone else. Damn, that’s love.
There is a group of white ladies there bouncing to the Hip Hop beat. I’m telling you, if you want to have some fun, sit back and watch white people dance! Especially to some Hip Hop. Oh my gosh! I thought I would die! ROFL! And then they all had the nerve to know the words to all the songs, talking bout, “I know some soldiers in here, where they at, where they at?”
I’m still just standing there like an idiot laughing at them when Stu taps me on the shoulder and points to his watch.
“Let’s go to Bed.” he whispers.
I sigh.
I wait for Melissa to finish dancing with this gay guy she met and we all walk out.
Now Stu is taking us to this club called Bed. I heard it was the spot for Black Professionals. I first learned of it through an attorney I met last summer when I worked at the Miami Times. I wondered what kind of crowd it would be but just shrugged and said I’ll go.
I looked down at my jeans and cringed. Here I go again, about to go up in a club and I’m not dressed like I usually would be. “You’re fine,” Stu tells me.
We get to the door and the same woman is there. I waltz up to her and I see her look at my clothes and whisper, “Jeans” to the guy she’s with.
Then she looks at me and then looks at Stu and Melissa who are standing behind me and asks, “Are you all together?”
“Yeah,” I respond. “We’re together.”
We walk in.
The moment I walk in I feel like I’m in another world.
This club is called Bed because there are loft styled beds that line the walls half way around the club. Each bed is plush with white sheets and over sized white pillows. The people are dressed like, damn, I can’t describe it. It looked like something out of a movie. You know those movies where they are having a cocktail party and everyone is sipping champagne and acting all siddity? That’s it!
People are lieing down on beds eating their overpriced meals and chatting.
I’m like, Hold up. Is this a CLUB?!
Hell naw.
I bet if they played Drop It Like It’s Hot, not a damn person in here would do it.
Stu can see the loook on my face. I don’t like the pretentious crowd.
He dissappears and returns to me with a smile. “Drink this.” he says. “It’s a classic margarita. Tequila with a bit of Cuantro and a squeeze or two of lime.”
Uh yeah, it’s good. Thanks.
I sip slowly, eyeing the brothers in the room. It’s a mixed crowd. Mixed evenly with Blacks and Whites. There are three beds in the center of the room. One with huge bed, raised higher than the others with giant wooden bedposts in the center and two lower beds on opposite sides.
I hear you have to pay for a bed in this place. And if you don’t have a bed, there is absolutely nowhere else for you to sit.
These are some stuck up, no fun having people. I frown at everyone. Child please I need to get out of here. Ain’t nobody krunk.
I see Melissa and Stu looking at me. “Hurry up and drink, Tee!” they encourage me. I know I am a bit too analytical in my right mind, but damn, I’m sure you don’t have to get me tipsy to have fun with me.
But I finish my drink and I have Stu as my guide. He’s encouraging me to watch as the crowd changes. “Look,” he says. “It’s after midnight now and watch as all the white people go home. Then the vibe will be a little different as more younger people start to show up.”
I am tipsy as hell and I am experiencing sensory overload.
I am inhaling every scent. I am devouring every sight.
I can’t lie to you, EVERY single woman up in that place was FINE! And I’m not talking about big booty FINE. I’m talking about if at any moment Jay-Z wanted to film a video in there, he could have. There was not ONE unattractive person, male or female. Not an overweight person, not a person with a bad weave!
EVERY, and when I say every, I mean EVERY woman was dressed to the hilt. I’m talking about AKA beautiful. I’m talking about Beyonce beautiful. I’m talking about CUTIE PIES!
And the men were no different. They could have taught a fashion class up in that piece. Men were so precise and not even afraid to share their bottles of champagne or buy drinks. “I think these men are prettier than me!” I thought to myself.
I danced the night away enjoying my euphoria. The lights and the music only added to my natural high and I was in heaven. I met a man named Blaine. He was white with blue eyes. After dancing with me he whispered, “Now I know you’ll always remember that a white boy named Blaine rocked your world.”
Yeah, I sure will.
We left and I rushed home to get some sleep.
The next day I called Anna to hear about her night out and tell her about mine. When I told her about going to Bed, she gushed.
“Damn Tee. That place is exclusive. You got in there? That’s the kind of place that handpick people out of the line. I would be kind of nervous about trying to get in there.”
Huh?
Doh!
They handpick people out of the line?
My mind races back to when I got there and the woman looking at my clothes before I entered. Her asking me if Stu and Melissa were with me. When I left I remembered seeing a long line, though the place wasn’t packed. I’m trying to remember faces. Yep, the less than status quo were standing outside in the cold, shifting from foot to foot, hoping to get in.
Damn… If I had known that place was like that I would have never gone there. I honestly don’t like exclusivity based on looks. We can’t help what we look like. We didn’t choose to have certain features.
Damn. But I got in.
Ya’ll may not believe me but I have never thought I was all that until recently. No one really paid me that much attention because I hang with beautiful women. When I do get attention, I chalk it up to my STAR personality and energy.
Deep inside I really don’t think there’s any woman out there that’s tighter than me. I mean, she may dress better than I do or have more money, but I’m still great in my own little weird way. But I think it’s good to have a self perception like that.
I just never really recognized until recently, that I just may be the status quo in some people’s eyes.
Makes me feel funny. Both happy and sad at the same time.
Would as many people still love me if I was the same Ms. Tee, only what the world deems “ugly”?
