Noches Latinas, babyyyyy!

Don't park next to the sketchy people!!!!! Especially at a club in Metairie, dear friends, unless you are ok with the guy-banter when we girls drive up next to them. At least it sounds prettier in Spanish: Que Bonita, que liiiiinda, babyyyyy. Where are you goooooing tonight? My friends and I went in search of Salsa dancing on Saturday evening after our very private and exclusive wine and Manchego cheese party, and our third...er...hit-and-miss venue of the evening was this club in Fat City called Club Slim. It looked highly promising, at least for our purposes, especially as we appeared to be the only non-Latins in the vicinity. Woop! Dance partners! Unfortunately when we got in, NO ONE was dancing to the very awesome Reggaton. Rather, they were staring at US...all 20 or so guys and the token way better dressed girl. We were giggling like 15-year-olds. One of my friends and I were totally prepared to stick it out, but the third of us, used to the clean and vibrant clubs in Houston was completely scared out of her mind. I could see her eyes scanning the crowd and mapping out every escape route in case we were cornered by the fan club in the parking lot. After a quick not-so-covert discussion about what we should do, we walked back out, our frightened friend practically skip-running to her car. We tried to maintain at least one or two cool points getting back into our cars and driving away beneath the stares of the entire parking lot...but all I can say is that it was a valiant effort.