After the Persian concert we drove to Georgetown. The roads became like those of Tehran. I imagined Tehran in the night. America became my beloved Iran and I…
The clubs were packed; a long line of people were waiting to get in. S and I were dancing in the back of the car. We were hungry. We parked the car somewhere near M street and walked to a small, Middle Eastern Gyro place. Unsure about where we wanted to eat, we took the Gyros and stood on M street near an Arab restaurant where live music played. R and I started belly dancing on the sidewalk.
We finally ate by a Subway restaurant. As we chewed our delicious meal, a guy who was sitting behind the window came outside towards us. “Where’d you guys get the Gyros?” We told him. Right before he left I added, “It’s really good.” “Really?” he asked. “yeah”.
The way we walked, and behaved, one could have easily thought we were drunk. But we weren’t. We were ourselves. I almost fell, trying to walk on the bumpy streets with heels. I managed however, to reach the car safely. Men glared at me the whole night and I was fine with that.
The car was beginning to smell like cigarettes. We all smelled like it, from our heads to our toes. I talked and rambled the whole ride, acting like the child I was. I told them, “hey guys, I’m a cigarette, you wanna smoke me?”
We had a good laugh. Lots of good laughs. On nights like these, you have to forget the world around you. You have to loosen up and have a good time and just be in the moment. The moments are too many to count and I, I will recount these moments of pure insanity and exhilaration as best as I can, and I will retell them…for the pure purpose of amusement.
-The End