Wednesday, July 09, 2003

Go To Your Roof And Watch The Girls In Their Party Dresses Wait For Their Taxis On The Street Down Below Day!

You thought the new nightclub up the block would bring a bad element to the neighborhood. Namely, an element that is found frequently in nightclubs. Granted, walking home at 11 PM past a lineup of blonde tipped men in open black tops can make you feel sad about being alive sometimes. But then there's 3 AM.

3 AM. When the Girls in the party dresses have decided to get out and get home alone in bed before they have that one last drink that might let them wake up someplace they don't recognize. The pretty Girls in black and white lycra scatter into twos, ones and threes along the block, all furiously hailing down taxis to get off the sidewalk before the drunk boys with the blonde tips start to bellow.

It's the ones in groups of one you watch from your rooftop. The ones whose friends all paired off away from them. The ones who just couldn't say yes tonight. Who smiled at all the hamhanded attempts and handed out the phone numbers, some real, some fake, she can't remember which one's which anymore. The ones who get on their cell phones to cry to their girlfriends or proposition ex-boyfriends or call the sitters to say they're on their way home.

Like that one, in the lime green spaghetti strap mini dress you swear you've seen before. "You must've wore that last week," you say out loud with an exhale of cigarette smoke. She's on the phone dialing the one she's going to think about during her cab ride. You always fell for a girl with something you can't quite place on her mind. And you swear you've seen that lime green spaghetti strap mini-dress before. Then your cell phone rings.


"Guess who!"

"Oh my God. Are you back in town?"

"I am."

"Are you wearing your lime green spaghetti strap mini-dress?"

"I am. Can you see me?"

"Um...What do mean? Where are you?"

"I'm right outside your building. On 108th and Amsterdam! I'm waving up at your window. Do you wanna let me up?"

"Um...I moved. Jersey actually."

So you watch her stop waving then you move inside the stairwell so the two of you can catch up without the risk of hearing the same passing police siren coming through each other's phones. Nice to hear from her but she's still pretty out there. Good thing you "moved."

Happy Go To Your Roof And Watch The Girls In Their Party Dresses Wait For Their Taxis On The Street Down Below Day!