Door 44

How can I adequately describe the Door 44 experience?

This took a lot from me, all the female cajones in the world but I made it through it. In the end, I thought see, it really wasn't that difficult.

Sometime in April, I received free passes to Door 44 from some very reluctant girls parading Crescent Avenue. I guess they sent them on the prowl because they were upset that Opera was getting all the action yet again. Reluctant, because I may not have particularly looked like their target audience. But never fear, I kept the passes in a safe place. Read the final print carefully, while checking for their expiration and I was good to go.

Several months and rainy Friday nights later, it finally came to me. But the night didn't actually start as a night to be spent at Door 44, there was this little event by my friends at Blackout Productions.

Bubble Gum Bash at Whiskey Park. It sounded great but was really a dud. And anyone who decides to throw a launch party of some sort at Whiskey Park knowing that their parking is iffy, has got another thing coming. The invite said arrive early, but as I drove through, with the lack of parking and the multiple hours it takes me to decide on what to wear, I was certainly not early. As I walked up to it, I saw some patrons leaving. Not a good sign. Never a good sign. It was barely 10.30. Worse off, we got only one free drink ticket from the sponsors, Three Olives Vodka. The night was doomed. I had walked about 2 blocks from 15th street to 14th street and they needed me to pay $15 for a martini. You have got to be kidding me?!!! I perused the crowd. Good DJ. But homegirl was thirsty and I had worn my good dress, the pink one with my Kate Spade shoes. The night must turn out okay. I am not having it. Especially as Buckhead is 10 miles away.

So I walked to Door 44. This is when the Door 44 plan was hatched. If I got there before 11 I could use the passes, or pass, considering I was the only one using it. So off my little legs went. It was about 10.45 at this time.

As I got there, passing the long line of people in front of Opera, walking on the faux red carpet to the entrance, the chick at the door gave me this look. Like, Girl did you forget your way. Sort of that look that the guy gave those two mature ladies in that movie, "Knocked Up." Right before he burst into the you are butt old speech. But this Door 44 chick didn't as much as say it as she implied it.  Then, I said, wait, I have a free pass. I rummaged through my stack of passes and then, voila, there it was. She was speechless. At this point, she gave me a look as if, I will see in 10 minutes on your way out. I was like, "Don't bet on it, missy!"

So I went in. Empty as shit. Crowd was very vanilla flavored. DJ was doing his thing. But the stage was small. Whatever happened to all the scantily clad girls they promised me would be dancing on the stages, etc. What happened to all the alternative type people? I quickly ordered a drink and thought of what next to do. I needed to sit down. I had walked about 4 blocks to get there.

This is the thing. Only in a tame city such as Atlanta can you walk 4 blocks in a club type dress and high heels and no one would look at you. They wouldn't even cast you a second glance. I walked 4 blocks n the city, a busy city albeit in the south at 10.45pm and no one gave me a 2nd look. How is that for making you think your value has diminished?

I digress.

Back to me sipping on an $8 awful glass of Chardonnay. I know my Chardonnay's. This wasn't a very good one. A glass  for $8. You are kidding me, right?

A very, very long hour later, I finally found a seat and was about to call it a night, when I decided to speak to the young man beside me. Mind you, he didn't speak to me. He looked at me. A lot of times. He must have been wondering, what gives, what the fuck? So I asked him if this was it, and if the place would get any better than the drunk white chick who was dancing all over this black dude. He said, to my surprise, "Yes." At 11.45pm, this is a little early for this place. So I thought, okay. I'd get another drink then. This time a beer for $5 and then I'll wait it out.

Then, it started slamming. Like the party heavens had opened up. The crowd got better (insert mixed crowd reference in here), much friendlier, rowdier and just alive. I could hardly remember that I came to this joint on my own. I didn't want to leave. There was so much dancing, drinking, laughing, groping and talking amidst the loud music, that I had to tear myself away from it. I even had a chance to toast to "Cajones" and to everyone, men and women having them, because Lord knows we all need them. In the end, I hitched a ride back to my car and an escort from the young man who advised me to stay and advisably so, because I wasn't about to walk 4 blocks in my aching feet back to my car.

So that was it. Door 44 at its best.

Will I try it again? Probably. Hopefully, this wasn't a fluke.