I’m a rap music junkie. I fiend for it. I live to feel the beat pumping through my veins and to hear lyrics that make me feel like I can change the world. I love the feeling of being in a room full of people who truly miss Tupac and Pimp C like they were close, personal friends or family members. People who risk neck injury from head-bopping so hard when the 808 drops. People who can spit every single word to Master P & UGK’s Break ‘Em Off Somethin’ without taking a single breath. Yeah, that’s my type of crowd.
I also like to enjoy a nice alcoholic beverage when I go out. Now that I’m in my (late) 30s, I prefer to sip a sophisticated wine as opposed to my older habits of passing around a bottle of Hennessy with my homies. Don’t get me wrong, I still drink Henn from time to time, but when I do, I like it neat in a brandy sniffer … not drowned in a plastic cup full of Red Bull and melted ice. And now when I pass the bottle, I like to spark a discussion about vintages, regions, aromatics and tannins.
But, here’s what I don’t like … I don’t like having to push my way through disrespectful strangers just to order drinks. I don’t like barely 20-year-olds rubbing on my ass and calling me bae, boo or shawty. I don’t like stressing over strategically finding a place to chill on high ground so my 5’2” self-doesn’t get trampled when the fight breaks out.
As these changes in my social preferences became more prevalent, I found myself becoming significantly reclusive. Most of my friends are rappers, DJs, and party promoters, so they are constantly expecting me to attend their events. And as committed as I am to supporting their success, most of the time I just can’t handle the anxiety of large crowds and rowdy behavior.
Just when I thought my days of partying had come to an end, the gates of adult fun heaven opened up in Old Louisville. About two months ago, a friend of mine invited me to celebrate her birthday at a hookah bar that had recently opened. I was familiar with the spot because I drive past it every day and I had seen promo for a few music industry events there. It seemed like a chill spot so I decided to give it a try.
The party was on a Wednesday night, which is my regular night off work, so that was cool. When I walked in, I immediately felt comfortable. Everybody in there looked to be at least 30 years old, and they were all nicely dressed. You know, the kind of people who have real jobs or own their own businesses. I noticed bottles of wine on almost every table in the room. Then I saw a familiar face on the turntables. Things were looking pretty good.
My friend had a nice little couch section that was decorated, had food and several bottles of wine. She was excited to finally see me out of the house and in the mix, and I was equally happy to finally be having some good, clean, adult fun. We partied the night away and not once did the thought of danger or disrespect even cross my mind.
And the music was great! DJ Z-Nyce provided the perfect mix of the ‘90s classics I love with current hits, minus the mainstream mumbling and chanting tracks that today’s kids think are actually real music. At one point, he mixed Anderson Paak’s Come Down with Q-Tip’s Vivrant Thing. It was genius.
I found out the party wasn’t just for my friend’s birthday; it was an every-Wednesday event that had been popping for a couple of weeks. They call it Wine Down Wednesday, and the bottles are half price. Half price! Needless to say, I was right back in there the very next Wednesday and have been a regular ever since.
So, the moral of the story is this – just because we’re aging moms and our idea of fun is changing, doesn’t mean our partying days are over. We don’t have to settle for the overpopulated nightclubs or the hole-in-the-wall old school joints. Bar owners and party promoters are taking notice of the Millennial Mom needs and are stepping up to give us options.