As my trip last night to find the tequila guru was futile, I ended up back at Xavier's, home of weeknight karaoke. I had pledged that I would stop in once a week to sing one song and then depart. After last night, that will no longer be the case.
I arrived and was warmly greeted by Judith, the security guard. She smiled at me and greeted me warmly. As usual, there were very few people in the bar. There was the woman hosting karaoke, 3 girls at a table, and two guys sitting at the bar. I went towards the bar and the bartender remembered me and offered me another warm greeting. After saying hello and ordering a beer, the guys at the bar started speaking to me in Spanish and asking how I was doing. Then they pushed the song listing binder towards me and encouraged me to sing. Not only did they remember me, they were fans! I didn't want to do a repeat of Julio and I couldn't seem to find anything I knew well enough, especially since the bulk of the songs were in Spanish. But the guys kept asking what was taking so long. They did their songs, the bartender did hers, the girls at the table left, and as my crowd was getting anxious, I signed up for "Caribbean Queen." It was until I was performing that I remembered that the chorus is out of my range, but I can handle the verse pretty well. I chose that one because it was the theme song of a Central American telenovela we used to watch in my tenth grade Spanish class with Senora McCann. It didn't stir the crowd as I'd hoped. They wanted Julio.
At this point I realized that I was no longer speaking any English. All of my conversations, except with the karaoke host, were in Spanish. This was very exciting, but my Spanish is rusty, so I had a few hurdles in front of me. I stepped outside to talk to Judith, and she wanted to know where I'd been. I told her how I was looking for work and then she immediately introduced me to Rosalinda, the owner of the bar. We spoke for a few minutes in Spanish, before I requested converting back to English to make sure my point got across. Of course she didn't have anything available, and so it goes. Moments later, I conceded to the crowd and did, "Baila Morena Baila." This time I left the stage to thunderous applause. Apparently, this helped win over Rosalinda as well, Judith came by to tell me that she liked me. But she still didn't have a job for me. Then Judith reappeared again and introduced to a young man, and he said that he had work for me. At this point I felt a bit underwater understanding everything that was happening. But I thought he said to come back tomorrow at 8. I thanked him, even though I didn't really know what was going on, what he'd offered, or what I'd agreed to.
A crew of military dudes and a couple girls came in and all sang, "Elvira," by the Oak Ridge Boys. Great choice! Still being encouraged to sing, I went up to do, "Bailamos," by Enrique Iglesias, a song that's right in my wheelhouse. It went well, but I think I better learn more songs in Spanish to maintain my public's interest. Soon enough it was closing time. I thanked all of my new friends and headed off into the night.
So tonight I went down to Xavier's at 8. But Judith's friend was not there, nor was Judith. The bartender, however, was there, and she was very nice to me, remembered my name, introduced me to another member of the staff. I felt terrible because I couldn't remember her name. In any case, I explained the muddled details of why I was there, feeling a bit foolish(when I think back now on the conversation, I feel I may have a missed a manana, so I heard manana a las 8, tomorrow night, but it was probably manana manana a las 8, tomorrow morning at 8). But she was very patient and encouraging. She said she would ask around on my behalf, and that I should come back on Tuesday night for karaoke. She reminded me that finding a job takes time, but that it will all work out, just make sure that you can survive until it does.
I thanked her and made my way down Fifth, with no direction or desire to go to any bars. No friends around, far from home, thinking back on how I'd gotten here and where I'm going. The main thing is I need a job. That's my real concern. I know that I'll find one, I just don't know when.
I ended up walking through the streets of downtown, assessing the city and its people. I was invisible. Dressed in all black like a bus boy just off his shift. I went into a couple of galleries. One filled with a bunch of mixed media work accompanied by the artist's poems, can't remember his name and wasn't all that drawn to the work; the other was the Chuck Jones Gallery, that was very pleasing, I'll certainly be going back. I saw a number of different highrises, one of which was being evacuated due to a small fire, so I saw a number of the residents out on the street. Some of the places were incredibly luxurious, with doormen and valets out front. I looked at the menus of the the fancy restaurants, entrees over $40 and no wines under $70. I thought about this lifestyle of the San Diego rich. Live in an elegant high rise with a pool and probably a spa, shop in nearby designer stores, spend your evenings out at dinner. One day I'll be there.
I made sure to walk walked by all of establishments that have denied my applications for employment. Aside from a few of the newer clubs/lounges, nothing was full. Places had crowds, but nothing overflowing the way it was before our economy fell like a house of cards.
I strolled into the park behind Petco and watched the 9th inning on the huge video screen that plays every away broadcast. A couple dozen people were there camped for the game. The Padres lost to the Diamondbacks, the Pads are scuffling a bit this week, and tonight only had three hits after being shut down for two games by the Dodgers. I walked down to the outdoor seats in centerfield and sat for a minute. There is a sand sculpture of a smiling friar alongside the word, BELIEVE. I looked at the stadium, which is a brilliant work of architecture as it captures the spirit and feel of San Diego. There isn't a bad seat in the house. There are different feels for what you want, you could be in a luxury box, you could be out beyond centerfield and sit on the grass, kind of like being at the beach. One section of the stadium is actually a commercial building that houses the am radio station that broadcasts the games. Just a beautiful park and the fact that they offer it so openly to the community is very special. It's a true celebration of the national pastime. And, true to San Diego, you can have a park on the other side of the outfield fence where people can basically be at the game while still doing something completely different.
Walked past Bar Tivoli, the oldest bar in San Diego, which still has a neon sign on the marquee that says rooms are available upstairs. I wonder if that's true.
Later walking up Fifth Avenue, a young military looking guy was holding a sign with biblical quotes and asking people about how often they go to church and the necessity for a close relationship with Jesus. He was a lonely missionary on a Friday night in a city that has a profound amount of sex and sin on display. Less than a block away, four young women were on the street promoting a club wearing thongs, platform heels, flourescent body bracelets, and bright tube tops. All of them had lollipops. You get the idea. You can smell marijuana wafting through the air on every other street. The bike caddies move up and down the streets blaring club music, all operated by young men and women in clinging clothes, looking more like prostitutes than transporters. The girls downtown get tarted up. Mini-skirts, tight dresses, loose blouses, glowing make up and big ear rings. Party busses bounce up and down the street while homeless people are sleeping in doorways. But everyone talks to each other. I saw homeless man profusely thank a 6 year old kid walking with his family for giving him some change. A 20 something young girl in Daisy Dukes and cowboy boots promoting for the Double Deuce (Kendra's favorite bar in San Diego) was having a lively conversation with some old guy about life observations. You can hear languages and accents from around the world. It's a fun city. I'm not sure that Jesus is here, but the spirit of community and acceptance certainly is, so maybe He is here after all.
I walked around for two hours with a heavy head. Saw a tremendous amount without spending a dime. Time to put my heavy head to sleep. Tomorrow I'll start learning some new songs in Spanish.
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