Folsom Prison Festa

I heard the door bell ringing. It was time to go. My friend Timoteo had come to give me a ride to a birthday party his band was playing at. I'm not going to lie, I was a tad bit nervous. I didn't know what to expect.I mean, don't get me wrong, I am a crazy party animal. For those who know me, they know I can't even type that with a straight face. I am an introvert to the extreme. I opened the door to find Timoteo, his guitar player Lucas, another man I'm going to affectionately refer to as drummer dude, and a 65' bug. Timoteo told me it was a classic. I thought it was a slow moving metal death trap. All five of us crammed into the little bug. Drummer dude spoke some spanish so we got along quite well. It is weird that I never asked his name. We arrived at a large house to set for their show. Outside the gate there was a guard who came and looked in our car. He then pressed a button that lifted a large iron wrought gate so that we could drive in. The walls were ten feet high with two feet of electric fence on top of that. I knew I would be the only one there who could speak english. I contemplated an escape route. My plan, had it been carried out, would've made Jason Bourne look like a rookie. I was going to pole vault over the twelve foot fence. There were only two limitations to the first plan: one, I didn't have a long pole with which to vault, two, I never actually learned how to pole vault. How hard could it be? Have you ever visited a friend in a different city? You know how awkward it is when you go to a party with them to meet all his friends? Well this was kind of like that on steroids. Not only did I not know anyone, but I also couldn't communicate with them due to obvious limitations. All I could do was sit and stare. We arrived at 8:15 so that the band could set up. People didn't arrive until nine. I sat and watch the hostess place bowls of apples floating in water. I thought to myself, "Alright, I can bob for some apples." Then she lit several candles and set them floating in the bowls. Then I thought to myself, "What an intense game of bobbing for apples." Sadly, no one attempted the feat. People arrived and the band started playing. I sat alone until two ladies around my age came and sat next to me. They introduced themselves and we began chatting. Yes, I said chatting. My portuguese has improved to the point where I can hold a decent conversation with some people. We discussed school, future plans, and how difficult Portuguese is. Their names were Larissa and Jessica, and we had a wonderful time. After the band stopped playing they came down and sat with us. We ate. We laughed. What was once a place I was devising suicidal escape plans had now become a place of, dare I say, merriment? We discussed music and what American bands they liked. The lead singer of the band had to have been around 25. He told me his favorites were Metallica and Justin Bieber. You should just stew over that for a moment. Their favorites ranged from Beyonce to Lady Gaga. It wasn't much of a stretch. How sad is it that the only music they know from America is all terrible. The air was wrought with cheap wine (I don't actually know if it was cheap it just sounds good as far as writing goes). The beer, wine, and other assorted drinks flowed like that waters of falls iguazu. Sorry to disappoint my friends, but no I didn't have any. The band got up and played some more. As the evening progressed more and more people began to dance. It was hysterical. One such woman had to be in her sixties, but I'll give it to her. She could move to the rhythm. The party, or festa, lasted until 2:00 am. I arrived home around 2:30 to find Zanatta and Leila still up watching television. I felt bad because I thought they were waiting up for me. They continued to watch for another hour. At least I think so; I was asleep before they stopped. I didn't feel so bad after that. Te night began with me dreading the unavoidable awkward situation I was going to be thrust in, but it ended with several new friends, better portuguese, and some images of elderly woman moving and grooving.