Life and Religion
|Kiss & Tell: A good time, a birthday and a peculiar rabbit|
|A wild night celebrating Gabrielle's 30th birthday|
|Published Wednesday, September 18, 2013 8:00 am|
Gabrielle Marie London-Brooks is an aspiring entertainment lawyer who works in the law office of Attorney Gregory Alexander.
Gregory is the Johnnie Cochran of Charlotte. He’s the go-to guy for local politicians, so-called community leaders and wealthy businesspeople looking to keep their scandals and misdeeds off the front page of the newspaper – like the commissioner who was facing charges for beating his wife and the pastor who got caught doing lines in a hotel room with a male prostitute.
Needless to say, Gabrielle knows all the dirt on everyone in Charlotte. I love meeting up with her and getting all the seedy details of the private lives of Charlotte’s upper echelon.
Tonight, we’re celebrating her 30th birthday.
We’re pre-gaming at the Omni, where she’s rented a couple of suites for the night.
It’s me, Gabrielle, her bestie Sapphire Mitchell and Carmen Lane, and we’re doing what girls do before a night on the town. We’re in the mirror primping, sipping cocktails, listening to music, squeezing into dresses, zipping each other up, cracking jokes and laughing until it hurts.
“Oh, no!” Gabrielle says, looking at her watch. “It’s almost six. The limo will be here any minute, and I’m not even ready.”
Me either. I’m still trying to decide which pair of shoes to wear – my electric blue pumps by Jessica Simpson or a pair of strappy sandals with the lower heel, which are more comfortable but not as cute. I decide to wear the cute ones and bring the other pair just in case.
“Shots!” I hear Carmen yell from the other room. I swear this girl never leaves home without a bottle of Patron. And every chance she gets she’s trying to ply you with it.
We all take a shot and toast to Gabrielle’s birthday, sisterhood and a fun night out. There’s a knock at the door. The limo’s here.
A peculiar evening
A short drive later, we’re pulling up to The Peculiar Rabbit in Plaza Midwood. Gabrielle reserved a table, and there are about seven people seated when we arrive. The only person I recognize is Christopher, the metrosexual who only dates girls who look like Barbie even though I think he secretly loves Ken.
Everyone stands and greets Gabrielle with a hug and wishes her a happy birthday.
We sit down and order some drinks and appetizers. Somehow we end up in a hypothetical conversation about who would play whom if the old TV show “Good Times” were made into a motion picture.
“I can’t think of anybody fine enough to play Thelma,” says Christopher, adding that he had the biggest crush on her growing up.
“Maybe Beyonce’,” says the lady seated to my right.
“Beyonce?” Christopher asks with a ton of attitude as if he’s offended. “Come on. Bey is fine and all, but let’s be honest, Mrs. Carter can’t act.”
“You got a point there,” Gabrielle says. “I don’t know who would play Thelma, but I think Dave Chappelle should play JJ.”
This goes on for a while. Then the topic of sex comes up.
The lady seated to my right becomes visibly uncomfortable as the couple across from us starts talking about the time they met a stranger at a bar, took her home and had a threesome.
The lady to my right starts fidgeting with her phone. She then turns to me, introduces herself as Mary and asks how I know Gabrielle. I explain that we met a couple of years ago at The Gray Classic. We attended the Women’s Empowerment Brunch and were seated at the same table.
The sex talk continues and gets raunchier as the couple across from us continues to divulge T.M.I. about their love life. They start dishing on all the S&M fantasies they’ve acted out.
It’s interesting to me, but Mary is having none of it. She’s had enough. She lays a $20 bill on the table to cover her entrée, says her goodbyes to Gabrielle and excuses herself for the evening, saying she has an early morning.
Christopher and one of the other guys at the table go upstairs to play a game of pool. Carmen follows. The couple goes outside to smoke cigarettes. Gabrielle leaves the table to take a phone call. I have no idea where Sapphire is, but before I know it, our party of 11 is reduced to two – me, and some frail looking dude with bushy eyebrows that’s too busy scrolling through his phone to have a conversation.
I head towards the ladies room and find Carmen and Sapphire seated at the bar taking shots of Patron. I join them.
The party begins
A few minutes later, Gabrielle’s boss Gregory walks in with his buddy Henry Martin, an executive at Wells Fargo.
Sapphire flags them down to join us at the bar. Henry makes a beeline for the seat next to her. He has the biggest crush on her, which is why his wife hates her guts.
“She’s always glaring at me,” Sapphire tells me. And truth be told, if Henry’s wife were to walk into Peculiar Rabbit right now, I think she’d give Sapphire something more than a dirty look. As Sapphire has now planted herself in Henry’s lap and is complimenting his hazel eyes and making him blush.
He’s opens a tab and buys a few rounds of drinks for everyone.
Soon everyone from our party begins to reemerge and congregate at the bar. The waiter who served us in the restaurant stops by the bar to make sure that everyone pays their bills. Gregory picks up the entire tab.
Within moments, our original party of 11 eleven grows to about 20 people.
The Patron definitely has Gabrielle feeling nice, as she’s up dancing to a song that’s only playing in her head. She starts singing the words out loud. Although I don’t recognize the lyrics, someone else does and starts to play the song on their phone.
Why did they do that? Now everybody has loosened up and is turned up to 10. Sapphire and Gabrielle sandwich Henry and start dancing on him. I thought he was going to lose it.
“Poor thing,” Sapphire says to me. “His mean old wife never gives him any attention. I bet you a million bucks he’ll get drunk and start crying about it later tonight.” (For the record, she was right.)
Gabrielle takes another shot.
“Let’s get out of here,” she says. “I want to dance.”
About 15 of us pile into the limo and head towards uptown with Henry and Gregory inconspicuously trailing behind in their own vehicles.
Even though Gabrielle said she wanted to dance, we end up at Stache House on South Boulevard because en route she changed her mind and decided she wanted to smoke hookah.
The place is packed, but it doesn’t take long for me to spot Jordan Keith at the bar. He’s sitting with Ivory Mitchell.
“I thought they broke up,” I say to Gabrielle.
“Gurrrl,” she slurs, giving a look that means she’s got the dirt. “Just wait to I give you the tea on that!”
(Editor's Note: Names and details have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty.)
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