I’m not the most athletic or the most spontaneous woman in the world, but I’m generally up for an adventure. A few weeks ago, that meant a four mile hike on a Virginia mountain. Adventure this weekend translated into a night out on the town.
While I drove from my side of town to meet Alicia for a movie, she changed our minds for me. Instead of bumming it in a movie theater, we were dolling up and going out for a little dance music.
I wasn’t dressed appropriately (though don’t worry, I was wearing a trusty heels-with-jeans get up), so I played dress up in Alicia’s clothes. A new outfit and shaved legs later, I was dressed and we were off to the 22nd Street Jazz Café.
Here’s the thing about Alabama: every day is a fashion show. Going to class? Pair your jeans with a sassy top and your favorite heels. Sunday morning demands attire almost as formal as the average business wardrobe. If you look at the south end zone of Bryant Denny on game day, you’ll see the dress required of our cultural events.
The unusual thing about this evening at the jazz café was the range of dress. Everything from jeans to denim skirts to pink skirts with tanks were represented. Alicia and I took our places on the dance floor and lightened the club’s atmosphere.
We were later joined by some friends of her boyfriend and his roommate. The guys obviously knew Alicia was off-limits, so one of them turned his attention to me. I carefully, politely indicated that I wasn’t interested in him or any of the other men who tried to join us on the dance floor. Within moments, they would turn up with other girls.
I tell this story to make two points:
In this atypical atmosphere, no one cared that I was clutching at my lime green pants as I danced. They were a bit baggy in the waist, and my hair and makeup were nothing to brag about. I was as laidback as I could be in capri pants and heels, but the boys came anyway. The lesson? People aren’t always as obsessed with appearances as I’m afraid they are.
The next morning, Alicia and I “debriefed” from the night. She pointed out that I could have walked away with the digits of any of a number of guys, then proceeded to share her philosophy on my dating life. “You’re single,” she reminded me. “You can go on dates with whoever you want, and if you don’t like him, just don’t call him back. Enjoy it!”
But I don’t want to, I said. What’s the point in meeting guys at a bar? They might be perfectly nice guys; after all, I’m a nice gal and I was there. 😉 But you don’t get to know someone by chatting about why you’re in Birmingham and whether or not you want a drink from the bar.
I may not be obsessed with knowing that someone is the “man of my dreams” before I accept a date, but I like to know that he at least has that potential. I know I’m picky, I know I’m less than perfect myself. Regardless of what I’m wearing, my standards are still a bit higher than that… and I think they’ll stay that way. 🙂