{"id":10393,"date":"2015-02-13T11:23:44","date_gmt":"2015-02-13T16:23:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/?p=10393"},"modified":"2015-02-13T11:23:44","modified_gmt":"2015-02-13T16:23:44","slug":"portland-after-dark-ladies-night","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/portland-after-dark-ladies-night\/","title":{"rendered":"Portland After Dark: Ladies’ Night"},"content":{"rendered":"

February\/March 2015 | view this story as a .pdf<\/a><\/p>\n

Going out with the girls is a time-honored ritual. And it\u2019s a blast.<\/h3>\n

By Olivia Gunn<\/p>\n

Stayin\u2019 Alive<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"After-Dark-Ladies'-Night\"<\/a>One of my very best friends from college is in town, and there\u2019s no better reason to be dancing at Bubba\u2019s Sulky Lounge. Marcus is the life of every party, and in his Michael Jackson Bad<\/em> leather jacket, he\u2019s catching every eye on the floor. He\u2019s taking the girls out for the night, and I\u2019m feeling like Bianca Jagger strolling into Studio 54.<\/p>\n

We walk to Bubba\u2019s, not exactly knowing what we\u2019re in for. I\u2019ve heard tales of a Saturday Night Fever<\/em> light-up dance floor, but I hate to get my hopes up. Upon arrival, we\u2019re all checked for \u201980s gear\u2013I\u2019d settled on faded black jeans and a jean jacket\u2013before being allowed to pass. Those who don\u2019t do throwback have to pay to enter Friday\u2019s \u201980s Night.<\/p>\n

Inside, Bubba\u2019s could pass as a flea market. Antiques, music memorabilia, and Elvis surround the never-ending bar. If there is a theme, they lost it years ago. We order a round of cheap beers before heading to the\u2013Oh, my God, it\u2019s a light-up dance floor! <\/em>Marcus gasps before pulling me into the crowd and taking over the floor. He really makes quite the scene, and soon he has a circle of fans watching him. It was bound to happen. Marcus is a trained dancer\/actor, and bringing him to Bubba\u2019s might as well have been giving him a starring role in a Broadway play.<\/p>\n

He\u2019s on fire, and soon I\u2019ve lost him to another. No hard feelings, because I\u2019m drenched in sweat and could use a breather. I\u2019ve had many full nights in Portland, but I must say, Bubba\u2019s has been the hottest by far.<\/p>\n

Shake it<\/strong><\/p>\n

I\u2019m quite aware that not everyone would jump at the chance to take a belly dance class because, quite honestly, I wouldn\u2019t have, either. But my neighbor Audrey, who\u2019d been taking ballet classes with local dance instructor Rosa Noreen, has invited me to a free belly dance class with Rosa.<\/p>\n

I\u2018m hesitant at first, envisioning a room full of hard abs shimmying about as I try desperately to keep up. But, after some convincing and the promise of wine afterward, I decide. Why not?\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Along with several other women, we arrive at Wildwood Medicine on India Street just in time for the evening class. It seems as if we\u2019ve all just finished work for the day, and from the vibe of the room, I sense everyone is slightly nervous, not knowing what to expect.<\/p>\n

Rosa, our warm, smiling leader, immediately introduces herself and offers dolmades as we wait. She sets up the music, and when it seems as if everyone has arrived, she instructs us to grab a hip scarf from her bag.<\/p>\n

Once in our belly-dancing uniforms, we form a large circle, all admiring one another\u2019s wrap choice. Rosa starts us off with stretches before the basics and explaining to us that all of our bodies are beautiful and that we should never feel obligated to hide them.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not long before we\u2019re all in time, shimmying and popping. At one point Rosa has us write our names using our hips, and even though I really don\u2019t know what I wrote, I finish with an exclamation point.<\/p>\n

Corner of Pine & Divine<\/strong><\/p>\n

After our evening of belly dance, Audrey and I take a walk to the West End for Bonobo\u2019s Wood Fire Pizza. We order the Caspian, figuring the roasted tomatoes and basil keep it healthy, and two glasses of red wine.<\/p>\n

Tonight the pizzeria\/cafe is uncommonly slow, and we sit at the bar with the server\u2019s beau and the owner. They talk about the new apartments being built across Brackett Street and looking forward to the cutomers they may bring.<\/p>\n

Audrey and I sit talking art and debate whether or not one of the pieces depicts a cow or wolf. Talk about gallery snobs.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not the flashiest girls\u2019 night, but we\u2019ve accomplished learning a new dance style and getting in our glass of red for the day with one of the best pizzas in town.<\/p>\n

Performance<\/strong><\/p>\n

There\u2019s nothing like an impromptu night out with a close friend, especially when you haven\u2019t seen one another since Christmas. After purchasing two tickets for the Lorem Ipsum show at Space Gallery, I reach out to Shannen, my go-to for anything last-minute.<\/p>\n

Shannen is immediately up for a girl\u2019s night, and we plan to meet at Space early for drinks and catching up.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve always kept an eye out for the parties, shows, and films Space offers throughout the year. Especially after being snowed in all winter, Space has the perfect events for anyone needing a little culture outside of Netflix.<\/p>\n

We arrive a half hour before the show and make our way to the bar, ordering beers before taking our seats in front of the black box theater. The show tonight is a Caryl Churchill play, and Shannen and I can\u2019t help talking college, as we both studied theater. Soon, we\u2019re both inspired and planning our own productions. Good friends and theater will do that to you.<\/p>\n

After the show we\u2019re left with plenty to discuss: money, power, and love. It\u2019s all out on the floor, and we\u2019re devouring it. Before we head our separate ways on State Street, we\u2019ve planned out next outing, even though we both know the best nights can never be planned.<\/p>\n

Set \u2018Em Up and Knock \u2018Em Down<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cWe used to be a reading club,\u201d admits Debby Olken, a member of the Casco Bay Bowling League. \u201cWe decided to do this because no one was good at it. It\u2019s hard to maintain a group with a focus. We have these great aspirations, and this has come the closest to working.\u201d She smooths her turquoise bowling shirt and heads to the lane, revealing her team\u2019s name: The Great Balls of Fire.<\/p>\n

Olken, a close friend of the family, had mentioned her bowling team in passing before, so on this otherwise boring Monday night, I figured I\u2019ll finally join the girls.<\/p>\n

I arrive to find them near the illuminated BOWLING sign near the back of Bayside Bowl.<\/p>\n

We approach seven women, all in matching shirts and bowling shoes to accent. As I introduce myself they all gather around, each with a zinger to outdo the next. \u201cWe thought she was lying,\u201d one of the women says of Debby\u2019s warning about my visit before ordering that the camera stay in the car.<\/p>\n

As\u00a0 they make their way to their designated lane, I order a Brooklyn Lager and take a spot behind their team.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s the league\u2019s season playoffs, and every lane is full. Some of the teams look much more experienced than others, but they all seem to be playing for fun.<\/p>\n

As the waitress makes her way around the floor, one of Debby\u2019s teammates orders a glass of red wine\u2013not your typical bowler\u2019s poison, but if you\u2019re playing as The Great Balls of Fire, you might as well do it with class.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not a lively game, I\u2019ll admit, and there are more gutter balls than not, but I have the most fun watching the teammates laughing among themselves. Their opponents, visibly younger, greet one another with daps (fist bumps) and sing along to the background music, but there\u2019s still no denying The Great Balls of Fire fit right in. Simply because they\u2019re having fun.<\/p>\n

By 10 o\u2019clock, I\u2019m too tired to stay much longer, even though it looks as if the party\u2019s just getting started. I hug them good-bye and admit I can\u2019t keep up with them. As I leave the lane, it\u2019s as if I\u2019ve never been there. They\u2019re back to their laughs and silly dance moves, never once fretting that their score on the board leaves something to be desired.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

February\/March 2015
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