No Sex in the City-Let it Rain

LA People do not go out when it rains. We think it will make us melt. We hibernate like bears until the water stops falling and then go to the store to stock up on food items whenever there is a break in the rain.


In spite of this, I decided to go to a surprise party for a friend, in the rain, over the weekend. As I was putting on my little black dress, my friend Alma called me to see if we were still going to the party. After all, it was raining. After I assured her that I would be picking her up at the appointed hour and that we would'nt melt, I grabbed my umbrella and headed out to pick up our other friend Penelope. She got into my car sporting a shower cap, an umbrella, and knee high boots. She was ready.

Once we scooped up Alma, we headed through several intersections, manned by traffic cops, as the wind and rain had caused the electricity to go out on several blocks. We pulled up to the valet and I was the only one not wearing knee-high boots, my nylon-clad feet immediately got soaked as I stepped into the huge puddle of water that had gathered at the curb. Inside, a security guard came to my rescue as I struggled to close my "on the verge of being completely useless" umbrella.

Upstairs in the private rooms, the dance floor was empty and many people stood watching a slide show featuring the birthday girl. Miniature frosted cupcakes decorated every surface in the four rooms, while the waiters cruised the crowd serving cheeseburger appetizers too large to eat daintily, beef satay, and vegetarian quesidillas. Then the partygoers received word that the birthday girl was minutes away and we were herded into the dance room to await her arrival. People closest to the entrance started shushing everyone and the sociable chatter died down; even so the occasional mischievous "shhhhh" could be heard amongst the crowd.



I stood on my toes so that I could see the grand entrance. The gues of honor was escorted in, eyes closed. She opened her eyes to shouts of "surprise!" and as she laughed in delight, the DJ turned up the volume of the music. The party was on!


Even so, many of the men in the room stood along the wall clutching drinks. I had a momentary flashback to secondary school dances back in the day. After group dances like the Cuban Shuffle and the Electric Slide and a few more drinks, people seemed to loosen up and the proverbial ice was broken. After an hour of working off my dinner and the one martini I had to drink, my girls and I rested as we shared an overstuffed chair.

A gentleman asked Alma to dance and left his suit jacket on the chair arm where she'd been seated. As they walked away, I noticed that the jacket was sliding onto the floor, so I reached across the chair from the opposite arm, to save the jacket from the dust it might collect once it hit the floor. Having done so, I righted myself on the chair arm, lost my balance, and slid off the arm and onto the floor on my behind cute black dress and all. BLAM! Fortunately, I got up quickly, and since the crowd had thinned out by then, without many people noticing my acrobatics. Penelope and I could not stop laughing, however.

As we drove home carefully through the power outage areas, we all chuckled intermittedly as we recalled my unchoreographed slide to the floor. With one unplanned action I had taken giant steps toward two of my New Year's Intentions--to move more and to laugh more. Let it rain!

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