So….I have this friend. He’s kind of a big deal. I’ve known him for more than two decades, he’s MUCH older than me and we’ve remained friends forever. He’s been mentioned in a few of my posts, including the round-up of his birthday extravaganzas.
His name is Dale. I met him when I was 14 (at camp) and we formed a special bond where we bust each other’s balls on a regular basis but there is mad love built on a long-standing friendship.
Every summer he throws a major birthday bash. I mean MAJE! They’re always different themes, there are always rules of something you have to wear, and they are always fun. This year was a little different. Typically they are on a weekend night and it can get wild. So when I got the text that it was on a Sunday afternoon…I. Was.Shocked! You see Dale may be older but his energy is so much higher than mine. He makes me look like a total nana.
Because we got to my 20-year high school reunion the previous night, a full hour before it actually started, Jason persuaded me not to make the same mistake with Dale’s party. So, since it was called for 1:30 we decided we’d arrive fashionably late, in our pink swag as directed, between 2-2:30. Also, it should be noted that I HATE South Beach. So much so, that I’d rather have a pap smear in front of a public audience than go there…ever. But it’s Dale, and for him, I suck it up and do this kind of shit.
The universe must have know where I was headed because this song came on.
I’ve been known to be strong-willed (read: stubborn) and back in the day, before Dale was Uptown Dale from the Miami Heat, he MC’ed my bro’s Bar Mitzvah and personally handpicked that song for my candle for the obligatory candle lighting ceremony.
Parking was a shitshow (because that’s how SoBe rolls) so Jason dropped me off at the restaurant and arrived a couple of hours later after finding a spot 10 miles away (I’m exaggerating but only a little).
I fully expected to walk in and see the party in full swing with Dale surrounded by Brazilian show girls in thongs and giant feather headdresses.
But when I walked over to the bar to get a $20 bloody mary, there were only a few people.
We pre-partied at the bar until the birthday boy arrived…at 3pm. He said it was due to “a problem with the party bus”. We were not invited on that part – but Dale knows me well enough to know I would have declined.
I don’t do buses. I did enough during my sorority days when I was sipping Jack & Diet at 7am on the way to date functions in Disney.
We sat…at a table…where we were going to order food. TOTAL deviation from a Dale party. I was so effing excited!! This is totally my speed I was thinking. A nice Sunday brunch with some of my favorite peeps and more bloody marys. Oh thank god Dale has finally come around. I also love seeing old friends.
When I was a youngin I was hanging out at Baja Beach Club in the Grove EVERY weekend. Dale would be MCing things like booty contests and DJ Holiday (pictured right) would be on the turntables – but REAL turntables…not a MacBook Pro. And he and I bonded instantly because we are Mispucha. I have no idea even how to spell that correctly because Yiddish doesn’t work that way but it’s pronounced MISH-BUCH (hard, phlegmy CH)-AHH, which means we are both members of the tribe (MoT), and for what it’s worth, Dale is too.
The decor included a giant Dale face which we totes had some fun with.
Dale sat upon his throne and decided what to order.
And then this happened.
Ok, I guess this is maybe a livelier brunch than we are used to. They traded carving stations for waiters who dance on the tables.
Then this happened.
And this happened.
I looked around and thought, what the eff is going on?!? Where am I?? Is this the twilight zone? I should have known Dale wouldn’t opt for a nice breezy Sunday Brunch. The windows were soon covered in dark drapes, we were outnumbered by girls in tight dresses who looked like they had fake assess (I wanted one too, btdubs), the room was filled with smoke. Is there an effing fire?!?!? Do we need to evacuate? Why is nobody else alarmed? HOW CAN YOU KEEP EATING YOUR BELGIAN WAFFLES IN A TIME LIKE THIS, PEOPLE?!
There’s a creepy robot gyrating all over everyone and I’m waiting for Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones to show up with their black suits and memory stick thingys.
I deduced he was a friendly robot because he even got down with the birthday boy and his giant face.
I mean it doesn’t get more trippy than Dale dancing with Dale. Wait, did someone slip a Molly in my drink? Am I hallucinating? I went to pee and was forced to wait in line because three regular patrons (not from our soiree) decided it would be fun to have a full-on selfie session in the bathroom stall. I just kept seeing flash after flash after flash. I wanted to throat punch them all.
A Dale party is not a Dale party without dancing. So we did. Everyone has their move…mine is the Rachel shimmy. It was actually born when I was about 15, at camp, with Dale, and I have spent the last 20+ years perfecting it.
Dale’s brunch was a full-on rave…on a Sunday…at 4pm in the afternoon. I have NEVER seen anything like it and only he would even know about anything like this.
Once I realized we were not being invaded by aliens and about to be transported and probed, I took it all in and realized I actually couldn’t picture it going down any other way. And I also felt completely validated that my accessorizing was on fleek for this occasion.
Happiest of birthdays to you my old friend. I love you and can’t wait to see what shit you come up with next year!