High Infidelity

Dora suggested that I write about our night together a couple of months ago:

I went to the suburbs to hang out with my parents and met up with Dora. We looked through the paper for something to do after filling our tummies with Mom’s minestrone and decided on an 80’s cover band playing at a bar we used to show our fake id’s to get into (back when those were necessary) called Durty Nellie’s. The original had burned down and the new joint was supposed to be pretty nice. It was pretty nice.

The band began with a Journey tune and the crowd went wild, Dora and I looked at each other and Dora asked, “They know this isn’t reeeeeally Journey, right?” I shrugged my shoulders. The band finished the first song and the lead singer addressed the eager crowd, “How’s everyone doing tonight?” Cheers and raised cups followed.
“How many of you out there are on our mailing list?” More cheers and raised cups.
“Friends on our MySpace?” Lots more cheers and raised cups.
“Well then, you probably are one of the people who voted on our latest poll asking what your favorite songs of ours are and tonight we have a treat for you. We’re going to count down your favorites all the way to number one!! That was number fifty-two, here’s fifty-one.”
I turned to Dora and asked, “They can’t possibly do that many songs, can they?” She suggested I lift her up on my shoulders so we could blend more. Instead we raised our fists in the air and yelled and whistled. “Woooohooooo!”
Somewhere between forty-five and forty we decided to take a break and move into the adjoining restaurant/bar for a drink served in a glass instead of plastic. We found a pub table between the bar and the door leading to the band and settled into conversation. Occasionally the door would swing open and we’d hear the lead singer cry “that was number thirty- two, here’s thirty one!” Journey, a little Styxx…”now for number twenty seven!” Soon the band took a break and much of the crowd filtered into our area for drinks, bathroom breaks and discussion of how awesome the band was. Our conveniently located table became hot real estate. A young man, counting his money moved close to us and asked if we minded sharing our table so he could set his drinks down. “Sure,” I said, “we sub lease that end of the table for $5.00 every fifteen minutes.” He threw down a fiver and continued to count his money.
“I was kidding.” Why would I have to explain that? Dora slid the bill back to him and he slid it back to me. Some people just don’t get me. Money -Counter’s friend did and tried to help out but Money-Counter was not hearing any humor that night. He bought us drinks and left his rent behind. He didn’t even use the entire lease.
Not thirty seconds later a woman asked the same favor of us. I decided that since the joke didn’t go so well the first time to just reply a simple “sure!” She bought four drinks and set them on our table and thanked us, “that was so nice of you ladies, I’m buying for all my friends, how are you enjoying the band?” She kept taking one step toward the table and one step back as she spoke to us. Stepping forward to talk and then back to listen. “We’re having fun!” we replied.
“Oh, my friends and I are having a blast! We’re celebrating one of my good friend’s 40th birthday, my name is Kathy-with a ‘K’ nice to meet you ladies.” Kathy-with a ‘K’ had on pleated stone washed jeans and a jean jacket, her hair was cut in a mullet. Not really a good cut for anyone but I think even less so for people with really curly hair like Kathy-with a ‘K’ had.
“So, is that short for Kathleen, then?” I asked her.
“No!” she seemed very pleased that I fell for that assumption. “It’s short for Katherine, but with a ‘K.’ Most Katherines spell their name with a ‘C’ but mine’s with a ‘K’!”
She told us of her plans for her 40th birthday party but as soon as the band came back on she excused herself, “they’re back on! I’ll see you ladies in there, right?” Dora and I shrugged, “Of Course! We have to hear what made it to number one!”
Dora asked me, “why is it that whenever anyone comes up to the table to talk to us they always talk to you and not me?”
“I don’t know, maybe they think you don’t speak English.” She punched me and laughed at the same time. “You bitch!”
We went back in at about number twelve and fed off the excitement of the crowd. We couldn't help but to dance and enjoy the music for what it was. At about number eight Dora asked me if I wanted to leave, “are you kidding?” I asked her, “we've made it this far, we have to see what number one is.” We laughed and I joined Dora dancing. Dora attracts a lot of attention when she dances because…the girl is really hot. And when she dances it’s hard not to imagine a pole close by.
Finally, number one came along and we held each other in anticipation, “what do you think it’ll be?” I asked her laughing.
“I got my first real six-string, at a five and dime…”
We looked at each other with complete surprise but the crowd was really excited. “What? Summer of ’69? That’s number one?”
If you can’t beat ‘em…we danced. We tried a connected robotic snake and were critiqued by a guy standing close by, “that was the worst robot I’ve ever seen.”
“I know,” I agreed and realizing that once again I was the one being spoken to and not Dora, “it’s her fault, she doesn’t speak English.”
He looked at Dora and smiled and then addressed me, “oh you’re going to let her take all the blame and she won’t even be able to defend herself?”
“It’s who I am.”
Dora asked me if I wanted to leave and the guy, looking surprised said, “Oh! You speak English!”
“LISA!!”
“What? Oh my God! You speak…when did you learn English? Has this whole exchange student from Cambodia been a lie all along? Are you even from Cambodia? First thing in the morning I want you out of my apartment! I can’t believe you speak English!”

The next day I got a text from Dora, in English: “If I find a Styxx cover band playing you wanna go?”
I replied: “Sure…but only if we go on their MySpace and vote a hundred times for ‘Come Sail Away.’”