I: Agony
(Writhing insides barely restrained by a thin tenuous layer of skin. Rusty misshapen gears grinding painfully in the straining brain.)
– she is less than halfway done with her meal (the other four of us are finished).
– she slowly slices a bite.
– she sets down her silverware and pours a drink.
– she sips the drink.
– she pauses to say something.
– she resumes slicing the bite.
– she sets down her silverware and listens thoughtfully to a friend’s comment.
– she finally raises the bite to her mouth.
– she lowers the bite quickly to respond to the above comment.
[…]
– we finally leave the mediocre, overpriced restaurant and she and her friend kindly inform us they’d rather not continue on to the club. After we agreed to pay way too much to go to the restaurant of their choice. And waited over a half hour for her to finish her meal.
II: Overconfidence
(I got this)
– We kindly bid them goodbye (I make a mental note not to count on them in the future), unfold the map, mis-orient ourselves, consult a kindly shopkeeper for directions, and plunge towards our destination.
10:46:54 – we near the dark street where the club is supposed to be, I notice a giant sign, “Lulu’s”, with pictorial representations of “love”, and I hope that when I asked the hotel clerk if there were any jazz clubs around he hadn’t mistaken “jazz” for “strip”.
– “Lulu’s” is not the right street number. Confidence builds.
III: The Outsider
(I don’t got this)
– We find the right address. A woman, in her 20s perhaps, sits alone smoking a cigarette on the doorstep, long black hair juxtaposed with light skin. She follows us with heavily made up eyes as we peer in. A strange electronic beat pours out of the door, open to reveal a deep, narrow room, very dim, the only lights purple or electric green. This certainly does not seem anything like a jazz club. Confidence wanes.
– after some debate with my leery companions, I stride through the door to be sure it’s not the right place.
10:48:25 – The three or four people who had been sitting at the bar, silently from what I could tell, look up quickly at my entrance and stare at me. I stop. They stare. I step forward. They follow me with their eyes. The searing heat of their scrutiny makes a moment feel like hours. I self-consciously walk past to be sure there is no band in the back (though I can clearly see there isn’t). They follow me with their eyes. The only sound is the incessant pounding of that electronic beat.
[?] – The bartender barks something to me in Greek and I mutter “this isn’t the right place” as I quickly scurry back out the door.
IV: Indecision
– “Well, you guys wanna try the other place?”
– “Sure, yeah.”
– “Cool, we can just get on the subway here then.”
– “Nah, why don’t we just walk?”
– “You sure you wanna walk?”
– “Of course, why not?”
– “The subway’s right here, why not take that?”
– “Man, I just want a beer.”
– "Let's walk, it’s not that far.”
[etc…]
– “OK, this is a lot farther than I thought.”
V: Shady Streets
~11: – The scenery shifts from a wide pedestrian pathway lined with jovial Athenians selling their wares or just enjoying a song, a cigarette, a conversation to a dilapidated, graffiti lined street, empty cars and shops locked up with bars and metal grates on either side. But the sidewalk is still marble.
~11:27:13 – A young man in acid-washed jeans and long dark hair crosses the street in front of us with a suspicious looking brown leather suitcase in his right hand. We don't approach him.
~ – we pass a café bursting with men of all ages, some bickering intently, others in quiet repose, all Greek. It’s the first café I’ve seen in Athens
– finally we reach the address of Athen’s very own “Half Note” jazz club to discover a boarded up deserted building. My companions are not pleased.
V: The Journey Home
(or: the Odyssey)
–demands that we return to the hotel immediately. We set out at a brisk pace.
– we encounter a scene that does not resemble the map. I consult a local shopkeeper to discover we set out in the wrong direction. On the bright side, we’re across the street from a subway station.
– we finally all make it across the street.
– we find the metro station and rush downstairs to find a spacious white marble chamber with seemingly no exit. Have we gone the right way?
12:17:19 – after consulting the man behind the ticket counter, misinterpreting his directions, walking around the building in search of another entrance, and finally returning down the subway steps, we find the elusive gateway to our ride home.
– our wayward trio leans haggardly against the walls of the rushing subway car headed back to the homeland.
– We step off the subway, our evening out on the town in Athens
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