Bailar??BAILAR!!

One evening a girlfriend and I decided to head out for drinks. We headed to the local dive bar that we usually gathered at with our co-workers. It was a Saturday night in the middle of nowhere. We wanted to be out and about, but didn’t want to make the 45 minute trek to Orange County. The bar was very empty and after a couple of drinks we gave in and started heading back home in defeat.

As we headed for the freeway we passed a parking lot full of cars at 11:00 pm. We’d seen this full lot before and always wondered what it was. Since I was driving I flipped a U-ey and headed for the lot. As we made our way in we passed several police cars and saw police all around the place. Instead of being deterred this spurred us on. As we got closer we could hear the Mexican music coming from inside the club. My friend satisfied to know that it was a Mexican night club was ready to head home, but I pressed on saying come on where’s your sense of adventure.

We parked and entered the club. Instantly upon entering the club I felt as though I had been transplanted into Mexico. The girl working the register spoke to me in all Spanish. The receipt was in all Spanish as well. After, being searched and frisked by the police man (not bouncer police man) we entered the club. The bar was right up front so I ordered us two Vodka Crans. The bartender looked at me like I was crazy and had no idea what it was I was talking about. After some time she returned with two Vodka crans with cherries as garnish. Before, the drinks had arrived my friend had been accosted by two gentleman wanting to dance. Bailar?! Bailar! They shouted over the music. My friend kept turning them down, but they kept standing there insisting. I came over with the drinks and told them maybe later. They moved on after a bit and we were able to get the full view of the Hacienda in full swing.

There was a live band and the dance floor was packed. Tables and tables sat empty just occupied by purses and drinks that their occupants had left behind on the way to the dance floor. It was a simply amazing sight to behold. Couple after couple swung and stepped in time to the beat. This wasn’t your regular bump and grind that you see at the usual clubs we’d been to. As we walked around the club we caught stares from the few people not on the dance floor. Clearly we were out of place. Not long after we’d circled the club the two gentlemen from before came back to ask us to bailar. I shook my head no and said I don’t know how. They spoke to us entirely in Spanish. My friend knowing more Spanish than me was able to keep up with the conversation. I on the other hand was at a loss. As I was standing there listening to them. I kept thinking. This is what it would be like to move to another country where I didn’t know the language.

What would have otherwise been a very lame Saturday night became an unforgettable trip to Mexico right in my own backyard. Who knew that out in the middle of Norco existed such a secret hopping hideaway.

I guess we never know what is just around the bend…http://entertainment.enterto.com/rss_index_singlegirl.html

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