In Pursuit Of Being Single, Fabulous, And Happy In LA-LA LandBy Cousin Kim
"Brandi wanted me to call you. We're running about twenty minutes late". My heels clacked on the floor of Marshalls Department Store as I perused the designer racks.
I'd been less that five minutes from the restaurant, where we had 8:30 dinner reservations, when I'd gotten the call. Being fully aware that twenty minutes in girl speak is more like forty minutes, I decided to kill some time shopping.
So there I was at 8:30pm in my sea blue chiffon halter dress and silver purse clacking between ten dollar clearance racks and the shoe department while my stomach gurgled.
Another Friday night as a single gal in Los Angeles.
I'd been less that five minutes from the restaurant, where we had 8:30 dinner reservations, when I'd gotten the call. Being fully aware that twenty minutes in girl speak is more like forty minutes, I decided to kill some time shopping.
So there I was at 8:30pm in my sea blue chiffon halter dress and silver purse clacking between ten dollar clearance racks and the shoe department while my stomach gurgled.Another Friday night as a single gal in Los Angeles.
I arrived at Hotel Sofitel at nine pm, found Brandi at the bar, and ordered edamame with sea salt.
By the time our other friends arrived, our stomachs were sufficiently lined so that no one had their head bitten off due to hunger rage.
An inebriated lesbian named Mimi came over to tell us that she was celebrating her thirty first birthday. She told us she'd been dating the same woman for seven years and showed us the name Ashante tattooed on her arm.
As we wished her a happy birthday she insisted on a kiss from Steven, who half-heartedly obliged her with a peck on the cheek.
Mimi joyously exclaimed, "I got a kiss from Steven!", then told me that I was beautiful in my blue dress and returned to her celebration.
Rather than eating in the restaurant, which was rather devoid of atmosphere, we decided to remain in the lounge area. A DJ came in and started spinning several hip hop jams peppered with Prince tunes, for which I gave him major props. People trickled in forming large parties of birthday celebrants at reserved tables.
We ordered tiny, well-presented appetizers at nearly twenty dollars a piece. We danced in the slender spaces between the low cocktail tables and the red velvet chaise lounges and chairs. Waiters brought in huge mounds of pink cotton candy and trays of shots for the birthday parties. Men in buttoned-down shirts watched girls in short skirts as they jiggled against girls in high heels.
An inebriated lesbian named Mimi came over to tell us that she was celebrating her thirty first birthday. She told us she'd been dating the same woman for seven years and showed us the name Ashante tattooed on her arm.
As we wished her a happy birthday she insisted on a kiss from Steven, who half-heartedly obliged her with a peck on the cheek. Mimi joyously exclaimed, "I got a kiss from Steven!", then told me that I was beautiful in my blue dress and returned to her celebration.
Rather than eating in the restaurant, which was rather devoid of atmosphere, we decided to remain in the lounge area. A DJ came in and started spinning several hip hop jams peppered with Prince tunes, for which I gave him major props. People trickled in forming large parties of birthday celebrants at reserved tables.
We ordered tiny, well-presented appetizers at nearly twenty dollars a piece. We danced in the slender spaces between the low cocktail tables and the red velvet chaise lounges and chairs. Waiters brought in huge mounds of pink cotton candy and trays of shots for the birthday parties. Men in buttoned-down shirts watched girls in short skirts as they jiggled against girls in high heels.
On the patio, people smoked cigarettes in cabanas under heat lamps, while the Beverly Center's Bloomindales sign towered overhead.
After several hours of lounge dancing and three teeny five dollar bottles of Pellegrino with lime, it was time to depart. I decided to drive home without the radio on.
After all, I needed to contemplate what ground my clacking heels might cover next...
After all, I needed to contemplate what ground my clacking heels might cover next...