Saturday, October 16, 2010

Caring What They Think

Once upon a time, alcohol was illegal in this fine land. Tragedy. And yet, glorious, because the speakeasy was formed. I can imagine myself living in the 20's, wearing a fabulous flapper dress and being clandestinely escorted into an establishment of joy. Instead, it is 2010 and I wear skinny jeans as I walk toward the hidden door of the Roger Room for a "blog." Probably not the same rush, but still pretty darn joyous.

I may have kissed a bartender at the Roger Room, so I was a bit worried how awkward it would be to sit at the tiny bar for ninety minutes alone if he was working. I have been through so much in the past seven months with this blog and life, that I laughed and thought, "Bring on the awkward! Bring on the torture! I can take it... Grr." Stepping into the dark room adorned with tiny lamps mounted on the walls, large murals and beautiful stained glass, I saw no such bartender. Eh, that's just easier. I sat at the bar covered by a ceiling of glasses and was handed their menu chock full o mixology drinks- amazing creations involving fancy tricks by the bartenders, fire, egg whites and Absinthe. Alcoholic candy for my mouth. Looking up to the bartenders on duty, I smiled at the candy for my eyes.

Many things bring people into this bar. It's hip, it's supposedly a secret (though everyone knows about it now), it's one of the best mixed cocktail establishments around (minus the $14 price tag) and you feel transported. Sitting at the bar, talking to the dashing bartenders, I'll admit, they are a reason as well. Even if it's only a fantasy, brought on by sharp attire clothing a beautiful actor with a side-job, thank you Roger Room for letting me imagine a debonair gentleman. I could use one of those in my life right now.

The bartenders were very cool guys and entertained sporadic conversation and my annoying questions on the menu. It was a slower hour of the night and it was glaringly obvious I was there alone. I started to feel I should make an excuse, say I was reviewing the bar to counter the feeling that there was a sign on my forehead saying "I am weird." If I was there with a girlfriend, I would have felt confident chatting away, thinking they would become my new neighborhood bartender friends. Instead, I wondered what these dapper men thought, assuming I must be an oddball or an alcoholic. Wait hot bartenders! Don't cast me off your cool list!

I've spent too much time worrying about how I am perceived in this process- by people I meet out, by people I know casually and tell about the blog, and by guys I've dated. The fear and anticipation around what the response will be has been very real and is just, well dumb. My family and friends have forced me to realize that anyone who misconstrues this or makes false judgements about me is not worth my energy. So I can imagine myself as a flapper; I can imagine myself with a dapper gentleman; but I can also imagine just being myself- taking on my own adventures, knowing I am the only one I need approval from and not apologizing for who I am. And recognizing how insignificant it is to be on some person's cool list.

Since Roger Room does not have a website, here is the Largo Music Venue nextdoor. It is also awesome- check out their concert schedule!


The Skirted Wordsmith said...

Love your philosophy! Just keep in mind, no matter how anyone looks at you, that you're fabulous and independent! And for speakeasies, I have a suggestion: Angel's on Wilshire...check this out. :) :)

Kiki said...

We are all on the same's just that some will never be ok with being themselves. You are that much closer with with every bar you enter!! xo