Grateful Fridays @ Bardot

I got here a little after eleven. I wasn't sure what to expect, arriving alone with no drugs in my system and no cash in my purse. But they had a square attached to an iPhone at the door, so I was able to pay with a Visa. The interior was dark, strategically lit with red bulbs and decorative wall sconces. An eclectic crowd to be sure, very unlike what I expect from the typical LA club scene. Especially in this part of town where sidewalk lines start forming early, dresses kiss the bottoms of ass cheeks, and heels stretch to the moon.

I'm in flat boots and a baby doll tunic--not attempting to compete with the burning man style/body painted/post apocalyptic/comic book characters, nor the run-of-the-mill/ short-skirt/high-heeled hotties who wander in unsuspecting and typical.

The band is called Monroe, and they're good...they have a funky, upbeat sound and I like the lead singer--he handles the mic well. They're able to get people dancing. When their set is over, Alex Willems thanks the crowd, calling forth abundance and blessings of unconditional love, and the volume goes up as the DJ takes over.

The place is steadily filling up. Each eye I catch feels hungry for approval of some kind. I suppose that's going to be the case in any scene; almost everyone out on a Friday night is hoping to make a connection of some sort. Sexual first and foremost, but maybe spiritual as well. I allow myself to be neutral, observing from a place of quiet introspection. I don't feel it necessary to engage. There's quite a bit of imbalance in the room, despite the shamanic healer in the corner working on someone lying on his table. Don't get me wrong--there is definitely a fantastic energy present as well. Smiles are genuine and loving hands brush my back as gentle souls attempt to squeeze past me on the stairwell. But much of the energy here feels scattered, lonely, and searching. It's the way of single people--at the first sign of need, they draw you in to feed. So I remain unattached from both the positive and the negative.

The music is luring me in--it's electronic and bass-heavy. In spite of my commitment to detach I find my knees beginning to bend back and forth in time to the throbbing rhythm. It's intoxicating. Especially to a body now accustomed to regular dance.

But before I can get too involved, I turn to my right and meet two nice black men. One is named Jason--he's responsible for booking the band I've been listening to. The other--Ryan--will be spinning in two hours--his set is from 2am - 3:30am. They invite me to smoke joints with them then come back later to hear Ryan spin. I ask Jason what kind of music is spinning right now. He tells me it's called "dub-step." I've heard of dub-step but now I can match the sound to the name, and I like it. It's like electronic hip-hop with a grit that makes me want to grind. The two gents stir, ready to adjourn to smoke, and I decide to decline at the last minute. I'd like to stay in a clear head space.

Now the dance floor is filling as the beat increases from dub-step to more traditional drum n' base. People are more inclined to move when there isn't as much space to fill between downbeats.

I haven't moved from my spot. I'm waiting until my body can no longer be denied. So far it's only responding in random fits and spurts of motion. I'm patient with myself--I'm tired of forcing things. Tired of performing life as a farce beneath harsh lights. I just want to let it organically flow and see where nature takes me. Maybe this place is starting to get to me...

Eventually my roommate Crystal finds me  and leads me on a winding path through the entire venue. To my surprise, there's another room upstairs with a totally different DJ spinning. His beats are faster and the room is smaller. I wind up there an hour after 'saying goodbye' to Crystal, lured onto the dance floor with the DJ's skill and seduced into stomping in tight accented hip-circles before a team of hand-drummers sitting off to the side jamming in time to the electronica. That's what I like best about Grateful Friday--it's such a seamless blend of mediums--live drumming and dub-step; full-body furry cat suits and sequined cocktail dresses; indigo-child crystal vendors and good old fashioned alcohol.

All in all, this place is great. The vibe is easy, effortless, and awake. The crowd is mixed, open, and harmless. It's a nice balance between weird and fab. Check it out. You won't be sorry.

LMP Self-Love Suggestion: GO DANCING! Somewhere you can really move and sweat. Somewhere dark, where you aren't worried about how you look or who you're with. There's something delicious about dancing like no one is watching--and even if they are, it doesn't matter. You're setting them free by showing them how to throw caution to the wind and live in the moment!

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Grateful Fridays at Bardot. 1737 vine street next to Avalon. $20 unless you are on a guest list. Vendors with crystals, hand-made jewelry, airbrush body art, shamanic healing sessions, massage therapy chairs, and more. Costume theme each week but not everyone adheres to it. Pretty much anything goes so don't be afraid to be as wildly strange or as comfortably mundane as you wish.

http://www.facebook.com/GratefulFridays