Wednesday, November 02, 2005

I'm writing slightly hungover at work, taking a break for a few minutes. The hangover is mostly in the form of a little queasiness and a slight headache, but otherwise I'm ok. I am however, fighting off an overwhelming desire to fall asleep at my desk.

We hosted a benefit for Katrina victims and the Associated Black Charities last night that featured three bands out of New Orleans. The Iguanas, The Rebirth Brass Band, and The Subdudes. It was great fun, and always fun to see your coworkers out and well...not working. Anyone could attend for $50 a ticket, and the event was hosted by Wendell Pierce, who plays Bunk on our show. Lots of the cast showed up and a good time was had by all. I hadn't heard a lot of New Orleans inspired music and certainly not seen it live, so it was a new experience for me. All new sounds, which for me meant new sights as well.

When I first arrived at the club, I went straight to the bar and ordered, pop quiz folks... Okay, time is up. For those of you who guessed a Cosmopolitan, you get a gold star. Those of you who guessed anything else, see me after class as you will be scraping gum off the bottom of the desks. One of my coworkers sidled up to the bar beside me and ordered the same, then paid for both of us. The guy is Greek, an extraordinarily positive person and makes you smile when he enters the room. That is a gift. Even if you've never met him, he greets you like an old friend. The fact that he can proudly drink a Cosmopolitan makes me like him all the more.

All the crew who could attend, had their tickets paid for by the creator of the show, so we didn't get in for free. I was prepared to pay for my ticket, being that it was a benefit but it was taken care of. Very nice of him. At the end of the night, I ended up paying for only one of my own drinks, the second one was also bought by a coworker. Everyone was feeling festive and letting off steam, myself included.

The great part was the party. People were letting loose, bodies jiving to the music, blurs of movement on the dance floor and silhouettes against the lighted stage. An arm lifted over a head, a hat bobbing up and down, feet stamping to the rhythm in an odd but infectious New Orleans style goose step. I let the music pelt my body, absorbing the beats and deep vibrations of the bass; it found the alcohol and picked it up, twirling it around in a delirious dance.

I had a great time. And when I got home, slept very, very well.

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