Coffee Rhetoric: Socialite Diaries
Showing posts with label Socialite Diaries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Socialite Diaries. Show all posts

October 24, 2011

These and Those: In Which My Hair Uncovers Dirty Truths


In these uncertain times where 9-to-5 jobs are difficult to come by due to asshole companies' discriminatory behavior and folks pushing forward to eke out an income working for themselves, money is tight and happy hour prices don't always put a smile on one's face once the bill comes. Fortunately Zula, located at 901 Main Street in downtown Hartford manages to keep it classy and sassy while providing a diverse crowd, good food, great music, and an outstanding happy hour from 4pm-7pm, so that folks don't side-eye their bill while angrily digging their wallet out of their purse or back pockets. $3 wines and drafts, $5 cocktails, and $4 plates. Why not? I was having a particularly good hair day this past Friday and ventured inside where I chatted up a personable and accommodating bartender named Jessica. 
Jessica kept me company and divulged interesting details about her life as a bartender before rapper, Keith Murray's sister found her way inside... apparently seduced by the halo of awesomeness that was my hair that day. She said she spied it through the plate glass window. My hair is touch and go whenever I wear un-bunned; some days it's just OK and other days it's particularly eye-catching. 

Now I'm familiar with this obviously cool woman (whose name always eludes me, unfortunately)- as I've run into her on numerous occasions downtown, where she resides. I had no idea until this past Friday that she was related to the Def Squad member, however. Keith's sister and I chatted about this and that... mostly regarding what her brother was currently up to and we pontificated a little about dating. Lately, I just choose not to do it. I'm really working on focusing getting to where I'd like to be professionally. Also, running into an unwanted nuisance I can't seem to escape a few days prior and then receiving a rambling voice mail this evening from another one, who once divulged an unfortunate story to me (on a FIRST quasi-DATE) about why his penis was virtually non-existent, has prompted me (an atheist type) to want to spend the remainder of my adult life in a convent for wayward dating souls. But I do enjoy hearing about what other people are up to in their love/sex lives. Keith Murray's sister spoke about a man she'd been dating for about a month, whose company she seemed to enjoy. He bought her gifts and he took her out to dine at fine restaurants. I happened to ask if they'd ever been to Zula. "This is too open for him. He likes more restrained, sort of fancier places. He probably wouldn't like this atmosphere." She suggested. We continued to make interesting conversation and shortly after, she excused herself to the bathroom. Suddenly a man and a young Black woman walked in. He pulled out Keith's sister's chair and  I alerted him, "Oh... someone's sitting there." He slid it back up to the bar sans incident... 
Keith's sister returned from the bathroom and surprised, hugged the man with familiarity. He and the young woman retreated to the opposite end of the bar. Considering our conversation just moments ago, Keith's sister alerted me that the man she hugged was the so-called charming fellow she'd been seeing, who bought her gifts, and who quite possibly would not take her out to dine at Zula... and it was obvious why. 

It gave me no pleasure whatsoever to see her obvious discomfort and dismay, especially when she said, "He told me he's here with someone else." I suggested that she "be cool" and finish enjoying her drink. A friend I spied and then a cool Hartfordite I recognized from and communicated with on Twitter, as well as an inebriated Afro-latina woman who mistakenly took and opened my purse to retrieve money to pay for her drinks would later distract me. So I never saw Keith's sister leave... The cad and his date were gone from the bar and slipped out into the cool, autumn night as well, and I wouldn't see how the awkward situation panned out in the end. My hope is that Keith's sister didn't go home too upset and put out. My hope is that I randomly run into her again. I'm not sure why this man felt compelled to try to put the wool over Keith Murray's sister's eyes and I won't speculate, as I've stopped trying to decipher the complicated adagio dance women and men, when courting one another. It's best to piss into the wind and just tread as steadily as one can in these matters. 

I'd like to think that if my hair hadn't been so awesome that day, Keith's sister would not have felt inspired to join me and stay long enough to see her paramour's dark-sided ways. And this is why I'll never bid my natural hair adieu. 

June 24, 2011

In Which Coffey Has Much To Do!

I have a lot on my mind and have a few pressing topics I've been dying to weigh-in on however I'm grappling with sinus (again) and throat issues and can't really think clearly enough to run my mouth via my computer, effectively. I've also been besieged by unsettling images of having to sleep next to whoever my partner will be, while they listen to me snore horribly due to these said chronic sinus issues... but I digress...
I've also got quite a bit on my plate and have attended or will be attending a few events in the coming days. It is a great time to be in Hartford this summer, so Kanye-shrug at anything contrary you may have heard, because people have no clue what they're talking about. Trust me on this. 
This past Friday, I had the privilege of being able to attend this year's Juneteenth Celebration Gala thrown by The Amistad Center for Arts and Culture at the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art. This required me to find and buy a dress I didn't entirely hate and wear it (without having to double up on Spanx) and condense my belongings in a clutch (a difficult feat, as I only shoulder carry-on luggage sized purses).
The well-heeled were in great form as they got crunk in their formal regalia to the DJ's set list of Luke Campbell, Jay-Z, Beyonce and contemporary pop-folks of the like. I must say, it was amusing watching political power-players and Black society types thrusting their hips, pumping their fists, and chest pumping in their formal wear as Uncle Luke challenged everyone to "Shake Them Daisy Dukes!" Compelling and fun stuff. I was particularly fond of the Lemon-Basil Martini as one of the featured drinks and could use another right now.
This Friday, as in later on today, I'm hoping to be able to attend The Gil Scott-Heron REVIEW in Reflection at The Hollander Building downtown, presented by arts and culture initiative, Center Without Walls and Hartford-based theater company HartBeat Ensemble! There is an awesome lineup of spoken-word poets and jazzologists scheduled to perform and despite my weepy sinuses, swollen throat, and the wet weather I plan on being in attendance from 7pm to 10pm. 
And since they're determined to keep it crunk - (Yes, I like that word... And?) - since bringing their originally penned play Flipside to the Hartford masses, HartBeat Ensemble will also be presenting a stellar poetry showcase July 8th also at The Hollander Building at 410 Asylum Street, downtown Hartford. More on this event coming soon, but keep the date open, because ten of Connecticut's dopest poets and spoken-word performers will be bringing creative REALNESS to the space. There will also be a pre-performance shindig with BBQ (vegetarian fare as well) and booze. Pre-party festivities are from 6:30 -7:30pm and the showcase is from 8 -10:30pm. 
So if one of your mealy-mouthed colleagues complain that there's nothing to do in Hartford and to avoid mushing him/her in the face with an open palm, patiently tell them that this summer, things are going down (basement) in the HartBeat and recount these events to them. 

March 01, 2011

See You On The Flipside

I feel like I haven't posted here in forever! These "I've been neglecting my blog" posts are starting to bore me. But I swear it's for a good reason. I've still be busy with the theater group HartBeat Ensemble, writing for their blog and learning the in's, out's, and frustrations of PR & Marketing. But thus far it has been so rewarding. I popped my press release "cherry" and did a relatively decent job of not effing it up even though I sent out an initial press release with the wrong time and even was able to get a mention on Frank Rizzo's Hartford Courant blog
This gig is a lot of work and causes me to take deep inhalations and exhalations of breath... because it challenges me as a writer. I'm developing a more disciplined routine, which I lacked before (there're still a few kinks to iron out) and I'm learning consistency... produce, produce, produce. I'm becoming even more of an insomniac, which is a price I'm willing to pay to expand my portfolio and raise my profile as a freelance writer for hire. It also gives me the opportunity to sit in wine bars (I do my best writing there) and observe folks and all their scandalous ways... more fodder for Coffee Rhetoric, and boy do I have fodder. In the meantime, if you're a Hartford resident and are in the area this Thursday evening, please stop by The Hollander on Asylum Street, downtown Hartford for HartBeat Ensemble's fundraiser: The 2nd Annual Improv Idol. Read the details here. And while you're at it, read my hard work dammit. All proceeds go towards funding the on-going production of their play (the one I'm currently blogging about), Flipside. It's only $10 and I figure if folks can pay that much for one of those disgustingly sweet and tangy Appletini's (a drink that's the bane of my bar existence), then they can fork it over for a good cause and get a good laughing watching some of Connecticut's best improv troupes perform against one another for the title of CT's Improv Idol. 
I'm also stoked that massive, dirty, and depressing looking snow banks are slowly melting away and spring is slowly caressing my cheek with soft, gentle kisses. It's also effing disgusting to see the final reveal after the snow has completely melted in various spots in the city.  Anyway, I'll be back... 

September 20, 2010

Socialite Diaries: In Which Black Hartfordites Have Preferences






In-between frequenting my favorite haunts, interacting with people, people watching, collecting numbers on cocktail napkins and listening to a crass Bostonian explain the merits of buying a fancy, sparkling truck that's "big enough to fuck in," and then asking me "So you wanna fuck me?" in the same span of space and time, I often take advantage of quiet moments and mull over the activities and things that make me happy and excited. I mentally brush off the b.s. complaints that there isn't anything to do in Hartford, CT as visions of good times I've had, both solo and while in good company, dance around in my head.  

While not a sprawling metropolis like New York City, Hartford is a pleasant place full of surprises despite rumblings to the contrary, with enough offerings to sate someone open enough to enjoy themselves and not continuously compare the small New England city to New York... an argument as fruitless as comparing apples to grapes. Nay sayers who constantly cry and moan about how there isn't anything to would find that if they just DID IT and kill the pessimistic and negative attitudes, there would be more of it TO DO. The beauty of being a native of this city is that at the end of the day, Hartford residents could care less where other folks are from, so for those transplants who wax nostalgic about how much better their city is to ours... the argument is an empty effort, as we'll kindly suggest you make haste and move back there. Hartford is nicknamed The Hartbeat for a reason...The people who live, play, and raise their families here and want to see it continue to thrive and grow, are passionate about its offerings and make sure to nourish its growth as a cool place to be, by making positive contributions and participating. 
Moooving on, as an open-minded Black woman who enjoys the arts and most things wine related as well as the finer things in life I can't afford, I often wonder what other ones of mi gente who reside in Hartford are up to as I nurse my wine and look on earnestly at my surroundings. Are they sipping wine and listening to music like me? Are they laughing off a loud Boston traveler looking to rock the Casbah in his truck? or are they side-eying questionable outfits and behaviors ... laughing raucously over a snifter of Hennessy? 
A local woman and fellow writer who goes by the name Ruby Phoenix has taken the time and effort to get at the root of what some of the Things Black People Do In Hartford involves, via her aptly named blog of the same title. Fortunately for us, it's not a strategically documented log comprised of shootings, drug activity, petty thefts, and car jackings; besides, the Hartford Courant has already taken on the role of clocking that information, ensuring that those outside the perimeter stay far away... as they point and throw major shade our way from their suburban enclaves. No ma'am... Ruby Phoenix features a series of events and  urban hang spots where wonderfully smelling Black people like us aren't packing heat; Opting to take in some performance art, poetry, dancing, or simple chilling with cocktails while ogling an attractive assortment of patrons ... dressed in the trendiest, sexiest, or most bohemian chic fits. 
Jessie, Al, Angela and Barack would definitely approve her message. Get into it ... 

September 14, 2010

Progress

The core group of people who've followed this blog from the beginning and have read about me crying, laughing, brooding, grieving, fumbling towards ecstasy, waxing nostalgic, in addition to all of my dating disasters know that amidst all of this foolery lies a starving literary artist and social media personality. I put a lot of hard work into Coffee Rhetoric and would like to experience the recognition that comes with all of the effort... which includes me not having to work a string of thankless jobs, under the supervision of some miserable hag, and finding contentment freelancing and doing things for myself.  I also don't want to be the sole nutcase out on the ledge all by myself, and so would like to write about other interesting people, places and things, especially those who are/which are local. 
Bocca Rossa - 942 Main ST, Htfd, CT
This phase finds me at my most ambitious. The hunger has involved me stepping the ante up on networking and schmoozing... something I've always had an aversion to.  I've always likened schmoozing to flirting... I mean, it is a derivative, non? In any event, I'm reserved when it comes to both and am never one to approach a person first. Usually animated when prompted. I always felt that schmoozing involved acting in a disingenuous way, to get something from someone... and in essence it is. So imagine my surprise upon realizing I can be myself and still network with interesting people who're receptive to my creative endeavors.
I've been going out more and trying to develop contacts to help me along on my journey. I've basically become like the harried accordion player in The Wind Journeys
No people are better to network with than bartenders, because they hear everything and are essentially masters at being in the know. The past year and this current, I've met some truly outstanding and personable bartenders who've hipped me to some really interesting people, places, and things. The two cute bartendresses, Rachel and Sarah, at downtown lounge, Bocca Rossa, have truly been amazing. From buying me a glass of fruit infused grappa to making stellar recommendations... they're awesome. Rachel was instrumental in introducing me to a notable or two, supplying them with a brief synopsis about my creative endeavors as well as giving me insight on some interesting events I'm going to try to insinuate myself in at. 
cognac & amaretto 
I definitely see myself becoming a semi-regular there. On top of having a great wine and spirit list, good locally made sausage, a great chef, and playing outstanding music that had me feeling nostalgic - (Neo-Soul, down-tempo, acid house, acid jazz) - and made my delicates quake excitedly - (because the stuff is right up my alley and isn't played anyplace else I can think of in the area) - they offer up a wicked Tomaresca and Malbec.
blurry pic of sauteed clams in a spicy broth
Also, where else where I happen upon a patron who'll lecture me on the importance of having men eat out my hand and knowing my worth (Kanye shrug) or be able to knock over and break a glass of wine on the bar, after gesticulating wildly upon hearing a friend's disturbing stories about his dysfunctional relationship, without getting major shade thrown in my direction?
Bocca Rossa, I see you now... and I'll be back... til we meet again.
** Read my Yelp review