I have 2 kids, one on the autism spectrum, and outside of my own work, my life pretty much consists of planning, driving, helping, making, carrying things, calming, mediating, encouraging, cooking, hugging, yelling, soothing, monitoring, praying, laughing, making empty threats and having faith. It's not easy being a parent and it can make some of us crazy (or all of us crazy to varying degrees.) Moms deal with the nuttiness in all kinds of ways; the lucky ones can laugh but some of us get bitchy. Some spend too many hours on-line or watching tv. Some get fat and others get and stay a little too lean and wired, always a bit on edge. Some moms do blowouts and workouts, a little "me time," offering a sense of control in the ultimately uncontrollable. Some get boyfriends, go shopping, do drugs or sugar or coffee or wine. Me? I go out. Out of my house, my neighborhood, out of my head, out into the glittery LA night. A few hours of good hair, the smell of perfume and exhaust and desire. I come back to myself in these nights and I remember that I am fun and sexy and capable of lighthearted happiness. On a great night, something wonderful happens. Let me tell you about last Saturday -
Now don't stop reading just because you would typically never go into a place that looks like this. Coming back to yourself on a Saturday night can sometimes require the willingness to step through doors you wouldn't go through on a Tuesday afternoon. Obviously, Plaza isn't fancy. You could even call it a dive - and if your current idea of a dive is La Descarga because it's way over on Western, well, I'm asking you to stretch a bit here. We are looking for a little adventure, so come along as the story unfolds when we step through the doors...
Plaza is a lesbian, Latino, transvestite cabaret bar. Cabaret bar/dance club really as after the stage show everybody dances. If you feel like it, you can climb up and dance on the stage. One lady was having a great time with the curtains.
Here's how it went - first of all I have to say that I did not see all of the show as I was stumbling down La Brea in my giant boots having thought it was a good idea to walk from Santa Monica Blvd almost to Melrose in very high heels at midnight (it is not a good idea.) But I did see some and it was great. We got there just as the lady in the black dress on the left ended her number and worked the room and then the guy ( I think, I'm 90% sure he was an guy though there was argument among us) above in the cowboy outfit sang several songs as women went up and hugged him or danced with him and stuffed money in his clothes. It was awesome. Then all the ladies came out and took their bows, the show was over and the place turned into a dance club with great Latino/house/hip-hop/club music. It was my friend's birthday and his girlfriend asked them to announce it and they did and then my friend danced on a chair and everybody clapped and we drank very cold beer and danced and danced.
You have probably been by Plaza a million times. It's just 2 or 3 buildings up from Pink's on La Brea and it's been there for years. Everything is in Spanish, - we were pretty much the only non-Latino people in there - and the crowd was nice and attitude free. It's not a club filled with 23 year olds in tiny (oh so tiny tiny tiny) skirts. It's working class people out for a Saturday night at a transvestite bar. I know, the world is weirder and much more wonderful then we know. But you should know that, different and almost other-worldly as it felt, we 40 year old westsiders felt very welcome. It's cheap to get in, like 5 or 10 bucks, the drinks are reasonable so even after you give away several singles you won't feel like you've gone broke. And you will have a fabulous time!
Details - Plaza 739 N. La Brea, west side of the street, just North of Pink's. Call for show times (323) 939- 0703 or just get there around 10pm on a Saturday. If you're hungry after all that dancing and you don't want a hot-dog know that some nice ladies were selling chimichangas right outside. Grab a paper plate and take a seat on the curb.