Well, last night took an interesting turn. It was a Saturday night, so you’re probably expecting black out city. Nope, wrong (I mean I obviously did dumb shit but not to the usual extreme). But it ended up being relatively thought provoking…
I had a nice day eating pizza and sitting in the park with my sisters, which I followed up by dragging my ass to the gym. I’m mid sprint on the treadmill when I get a message from none other than the boy! Woohoo! Perfect timing as I was looking for an excuse to stop running (it’s literally impossible to text and run). Pretty much my day was going flawlessly, is the point.
After going to the gym, I met up with a group of girls and we had dinner at my favorite indulgent-portion-size restaurant : EL CLUB DE LA MILENESA (if you are ever in Buenos Aires, this is my top recommendation). It’s no surprise that I ate my body weight while everyone else picked at their plates (motherfuckas). WHATEV. Perhaps I regretted this a little after when we got to a bar and I was in my super-skinny jeans (don’t try to tell me you never unbutton…). Moving on.
Julia had some friends who were having a little apartment “pre,” as she called it (I asked myself why I was never trendy enough to say “pre” in the United States). Everyone was really nice, and we started playing drinking games that Alexa literally fucked up every time (which obvi I was loving). In between games, I started talking to this one kid who tells me he’s in a band, just what I need. I wasn’t drunk, but buzzed enough to start asking a bunch of musical questions, informing him that in fact I enjoy belting a tune here and there as well.
I turn around for two seconds and this kid is holding a guitar and singing. So I’m enjoying it, listening, I mean who wouldn’t enjoy live music? Alexa looks at me from across the table and mouths “you’re scheming.” I should’ve known this was my cue to distract her with exorbitant amounts of alcohol but I was distracted by the guitar. Before I knew it, her and Julia are announcing to the party that I sing and saying some dumb compliments that I loved but didn’t want anyone else to hear. Mr. Guitar turns to me and goes, “hey, do you know how to improvise?” I’m like, are you fucking out of your mind? If I ever wrote any lyrics they would be:
Everyone sucks/ I don’t give a fuck.
(Keep in mind it took me approximately six minutes to find hateful words that rhymed.)
Back to the story: as if I didn’t see this one coming, he starts playing Black Bird. So I sing a few bars to get everyone to shut up, but then everyone liked it…. I did my usual “disgusted face” (a kind of twisted grimace) as everyone harassed me to sing more and I sat in the corner hiding.
So the group decides to go to a club, and I’m like – Awesome, I’m off the hook. Nope, never.
This one guy, who was cute mind you, tells me that he can’t talk to me until I sing more. So I sing him probably a measure’s worth a notes when we’re getting into the cab… it’s like opening Pandoras box. Now everyone’s yelling and I’m like “MAKE IT STOPPPP” … so I had to resort to the only last option: sing…
It should come as no surprise that the first song that came to mind was “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay,” my new go-to. It was weird. I mean I was sitting in the middle seat in the back of a taxi, twisting my silver eye of horus ring and like really singing. The taxi driver kept looking in the rearview probably wondering what the hell kind of drugs I was on. They all clapped…. good thing it was dark as I know my face was probably the reddest it could be.
I don’t know why I’m weird about people liking my voice, it’s just a topic I struggle to accept compliments on. These guys are like, “oh american Idol” and “you love glee, go do it!” Picture my eyes half closed and me giving them the “Don’t patronize me” eyebrow raise. Hello, childhood fears of never being good enough, and thank you for rearing your hideous head at times like these.
So, all in all, Saturday was weird, but I loved it…
I’m sitting here, sweating of course, asking myself why I loved singing for everyone.. ’cause I didn’t think I did… la unica cosa que me da timida.
In my money crunch, I asked myself if I could see myself singing in a bar. Maybe I could.
A Saturday night that complicated my life plan just a liiiiiitle bit more… hyper contrast to the one I was expecting that’s for sure.