Tuesday, May 28, 2019

No Roots by Alice Merton

I was sitting at the hairdresser getting highlights and a trim. No Roots had been playing in my head all day.  It's a great song that has absolutely nothing to do with hair.  I knew it had nothing to do with hair, but I also knew I would leave the hairdresser that afternoon with no roots so it just worked for me.  I was particularly excited because I was going out on a date with my pretty pretty hair.  I had recently started things back up with someone who I liked a great deal.  I had a gorgeous dress to go along with the date.  I had discovered a place in Benicia that is an actual speakeasy, password required.  What makes this speakeasy even more fun is that proper attire the key to getting in.  People rarely dress up nowadays and this place wanted to go back to that - no jeans, sneakers, etc.  You didn't have to dress in Prohibition period wear, but you had to bring it.  My date had no idea where we were going or what we were doing.  I knew he would be in work clothes and would be properly attired.

It was a great night.  It turned out the speakeasy was occupied by a private event, but they graciously allowed us to sit in the corner.  That sounds bad, but it really wasn't.  It's a tiny room with a bar on one side and tables on the other.  We were in the corner near the bar, just how we like it.  No one was paying any attention to us and we could be as handsy as we liked and sit practically in one another's laps.  We enjoyed some cocktails, shared some snacks, and flirted the evening away.  We discovered it was a birthday party for someone (they were all our parents' ages) and he bought a drink for the birthday boy.  Afterwards we parked the car for a bit and enjoyed the nice view and he dropped me back home, just like a proper gentleman.  I wonder if he knows this is our song?  I wonder if he would agree?

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