January 24th is Duke Ellington’s birthday, and 2014 marks the 115th anniversary of his birth, so I walked into work with a particularly jazzy mindset. I left at 10:30 pm with Arianna to head to Duende, our newest eye candy jaunt where we sit and drink one glass of wine while trading notes on how attractive the staff is. Unfortunately, Friday night was a strike out in terms of our “flirting with the staff” game, although they do have an amazing drink on the menu called Tequila & Sangrita, which is a shot of Siete Leguas Reposado Tequila and a hibiscus-chili sangrita chaser.
After cramping our way out of Duende, we sullied our way over to 355, where we did that thing where we walked in, sat in the back, and decided there was no one we knew and no one new who looked worthy of flirtation, then bounced. It was there that I realized that there’s a fair amount of frumpy 30 year women making questionable fashion choices after spending eight hours at their office job, then jetting to their home in the Uptown condos to put on mismatching Banana Republic basics that they found on clearance, just to wind up at 355 at 11pm with a warm beer in their hand and an overall appearance of general dullness and mediocre unattractiveness. Maybe that’s a harsh judgment to pass on the people who fritter around Uptown bars, but we’re still in our twenties, and we still don’t have real jobs, and we’re still pretty well dressed, so there has to be some way for me to express my disdain in regards to the fact that there were no attractive dudes that we could talk to at 355. So I just blame it on the incredibly low standards that the women have set for the level of attractiveness that is acceptable while out bar hopping in Oakland, and I’m still surprised that, again, at Van Kleef’s, and also at Radio, there were no attractive dudes! No one worth striking up a conversation with, no one brazenly drunk enough to chat us up, so we sat there, boredly sipping tequila and looking at each other while trying to strike up some dramatic conversation about our enemies. I guess that’s this just symptomatic of the condo influx full of boring 9-5 tech people who don’t really know how to party, or how to fuck, or how to have fun, and this is the true punishment of gentrification: being an Oakland local and sitting at some bar that, most nights, is filled with fuckable people, but on Friday night it’s overrun with people that I wouldn’t fuck for a million dollars.
So, after ditching Van Kleef’s for Radio, we luckily ran into Wyeth, who was kind enough to entertain us with attempting to take pictures for Instagram before we all made a blood pact to meet up at Ruby Room, where Miguel was DJing. I guess I should have known that Ruby Room was the best bet for anything, seeing as it was Single’s Plight aka OK Cupid Meet Up aka Single’s Night at Ruby Room. Although I have been slightly peeved lately when I show up at Ruby Room and dude (or dudes) that I have slept with are also there, yet they do not say hi to me – like, what the fuck is up with that? Just so we’re all clear, Ruby Room on Friday night is MY turf, mostly because Miguel’s DJing, and anywhere Miguel DJs is my turf, and also anywhere I bartend is Miguel’s turf. So I’m just really confused as to why dudes I’ve slept with would show up to Ruby Room on Friday night just to not say hi to me, or to ignore me, or act like it’s cool to act like they’re not on my turf at the moment. Get your shit together, dudes I fuck!
Anyways, my night was ameliorated by the fact that my old “coworkers” from that one cocaine den where I used to work showed up, aka the John Brothers, aka John Morgan and Arlo, which was great, because, then, all of a sudden, instead of it just being me and Arianna huddled in the back of a bar alone and longing for male attention – there we were! With a bunch of dudes gaggled around us while we pestered people for free drinks and danced on the table. Yeah – you know, that thing that we do where we get really drunk and one or both of us gets on the table and does that ass shaking thing just so we can be the absolute center of attention at this bar at this moment. Also, there was lots of dancing on the dance floor, and more tequila to drink, and Antonette and Courtney were bartending, and it was general all around amazingness before Miguel and I jetted to the Asian Food Grotto in Berkeley at 3am to get Top Dog and then run into Indigo, et al., before going home and watching TV with Mario and feeling pretty triumphant and satisfied with the night in general.
HBD, Duke Ellington!