First Friday at the Crossroads

Perfect fall weather, almost a full moon, lots of new shows, music on every street corner, who could have planned a better First Friday at the Crossroads? And I think I had a great time. I really do.

It was the guy’s night out so I left Dulcinea back at the family manor; actually she decided to stay at work late to get caught up (should I have felt guilty?). At six pm sharp I was going to meet two old college chums, err…other knights, at the Cashew on 20th and Grand for drinks, view a few galleries and then a late dinner.

Being an expert procrastinator I arrived early at about 6:30 pm. The Crossroads were already seething with humanity. The Cashew was bursting at the seams with GROUPS of beautiful people and I was here solo, the loner. But I can handle that, an older gentlemen even gave up his seat at the bar for me, did I really look that needy?

Martini Numbero Uno; Damn that tasted good. My cell (mobile to you English) went off, I couldn’t hear the ring but I did feel the gentle vibration against my thigh. It was the guys telling me the soccer game was in overtime and they wouldn’t be here until 7:00pm.

Martini Numbero Dos; Feeling rather obviously alone, it seemed everywhere I turned my gaze it met another empty face looking back at me. I couldn’t take it any longer. A good friend I work with lives in a loft near the Cashew. So I trudged over and rang his code on the outside box. The noise coming out of the speaker was even louder than the bar, indicating a very good party was going on that I had not been invited to and I had no intention of crashing. I casually left the lofts and eased back into the Cashew (my seat was still open because I had failed to pay my tab before leaving).

Martini Numbero Tres; Another call, “Damn El Quijote, it is packed down here we can’t find any parking, we’ll have to park about ten blocks away and walk.”

“Okay, I’ll have a martini ready for you.” But thinking to myself, Sir Dense what did I just tell you!

Martini Numbero Quarto; I’m feeling no pain, in fact I think I may just crawl up on the bar and nap until they get here. Opps, they are here! With a couple of extra guys, short cropped hair, the perfect two day old beard stubble, tight t-shirts, ear rings and talking with lisps. Uh-oh.

So I start, “Hello, blab, blab… Nice to meet you….blab, blab,….Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh, we aren’t drinking tonight.”

Well fuck me. I’ll match my drunken slur against your lisp any day. “Barkeep, give me a martini.” Martini Numbero Cinco.

You are probably getting the idea by now how my night went. But I went along and I had fun. I’m sure we looked at some great art. We ate. I’m sure it tasted good. I remember talking with my mouth full and really not giving a damn.

Then we all said our goodbyes and I think I drove home. I’m not proud of that, it took all the concentration this good knight could muster.

Yes, I think it must have been a fine First Friday.