Samba Party
Created | Updated Feb 21, 2012
It is a Sunday evening in Summer and for once it is not raining. At a private club,called Poison, a Brazilian band is scheduled to play for the entertainment of the club's visitors. Open invitations have been posted on the internet and taken up in the chat rooms of social network sites.
You decide to go and experience your first Samba party. Getting into the city on public transport opens the night up (to you)for heavy drinking. Walking to the club's premises, with your partner, you start to notice the people around you. Its easy to see the day trippers who are just getting ready to leave the City. They are tired from a day of unusually active participation, in various events. Then you notice, hidden in the fast food stores, a different breed. These are younger and more full of energy. It is the party goers! They are all locals and confident in their own City. These people are at ease with their surroundings and know just where they are going. All of them are looking forward to the fun.
There are the usual number of law enforcement officers. They are not happy to be working, particularly on a Sunday night, and are in no mood for anyone to behave badly.
Arriving at the Club you notice the "hangers". These are people who hang about outside, as they decide if they are going in or passing. The private club has a cover charge that you pay gladly. Then you go to the bar (one of two bars in this club) and order a double shot of Irish Whiskey. The price is the first shock that awaits you. The barmaid asks you to pay twice as much as you usually pay. So you pay up but vow to switch to wine, for the rest of the evening.
Its early yet and almost no one is dancing. Two DJs are trying to warm up the small crowd. But people have not had enough to drink (not surprising given the prices being charged). Looking around the room you see all the usual types. There are the disappointed with lifers, the virgins (first Samba party) like yourself, the talkers, the ego drunks, the hopeful women, the eager men, the cool group and the bored stiffs.
Noticing what everyone is wearing helps you pass the time. Three groupings are readily observable. Firstly, there are the dressed to thrill. This involves exposing as much skin as possible. Secondly, there are the cool dressers. These people wear the latest everything. Finally, there are the "I haven't got anything to wear so this will have to do" stiffs. In general, the women wear either, a dress, or, pants so tight they must have had them sprayed on. Men wear shoes that are good for dancing and they have on their best T-Shirts. .
After one hour, the DJs are replaced by the band. In this Samba band, there are two different types of drummers. One is on the heavy Samba drums and the other is a more traditional drummer. There is one member on the electric piano. Then there are two guitarists. The band is made complete with three very attractive ladies. All are great dancers!
One of these dancers, doubles as the main singer. Another dancer is the back up singer. And one of the guitarists provides the male harmony. The last remaining dancer has been placed in her own space. She is so hot that every man in the room checks out her body!
The band takes over the beat of the Samba music and the volume is ratcheted up to the highest level. The women dancers gyrate to the music and encourage the crowd to do the same. The men, in the band, all play up to the crowd. A photographer moves amongst the crowd to take shots of the action. Anyone who still wants to talk must engage in shouting matches. And as the music gets as loud as a jet engine, the gyrations move from the bodies of the dancers to the party goers . Even the security people are tapping their feet and swaying ever so slightly. Soon a pit of party dancers is formed form the crowd. Space between dancers, in the pit, is so minimal that the dancers may as well be married to each other. Mass hysteria takes hold and the action gets savage! The animal instincts of the party goers rises to the surface. Anyone not interested in sex is just not paying attention, to what is goin on around them. You are so crammed up against your partner that you cannot see past her face. And you can see that she has no choice but to look right back at you.
After an hour the band has the dancers at a fever pitch from their uninterrupted dance music. This is when they take their first break.
Like everyone else, you race for the free water and the toilets. Meanwhile many more people flood in from surrounding streets. The music can be heard blocks away and this draws in passing rovers and seekers. After fifteen minutes, the band starts up again. The crowd gets their second wind and goes wild. Now they are dancing in each others pockets, hip to hip. Their body heat reaches critical mass. You and your partner practice the moves you observe all around and enjoy the chaos.
The Club is using an open part of their premises, so when the storm breaks many of the dancers get saturated. But they are too far gone to notice and dance on as the thunder and lightning rent the sky. You and your partner get wet and decide to just ignore the rain. The band is under cover and respond by getting even louder. Your ears are now at severe risk of damage. But, like the other party goers, you just don't care. In fact you don't care about anything but your partner, who appears to be dancing in a trance like state.
Once midnight comes the band stops and everything winds down. Some very exhausted and excited dancers pair up for the after party sporting events. You and your partner have a room booked at a hotel close to the club. A wild night, in many ways, will be the vague memory you will recall. Your partner will recall nothing at all but the mule that kicked her in the head. As other party goers walk to the Bus Stop, they keep the distance between their bodies as close to zero as possible. In your hotel room your ears try to adjust to normal sounds. But the cars, on the street outside the club, had sounded like they were driving on velvet. One thing is sure, you will be back next year to do it all over again.
You decide to go and experience your first Samba party. Getting into the city on public transport opens the night up (to you)for heavy drinking. Walking to the club's premises, with your partner, you start to notice the people around you. Its easy to see the day trippers who are just getting ready to leave the City. They are tired from a day of unusually active participation, in various events. Then you notice, hidden in the fast food stores, a different breed. These are younger and more full of energy. It is the party goers! They are all locals and confident in their own City. These people are at ease with their surroundings and know just where they are going. All of them are looking forward to the fun.
There are the usual number of law enforcement officers. They are not happy to be working, particularly on a Sunday night, and are in no mood for anyone to behave badly.
Arriving at the Club you notice the "hangers". These are people who hang about outside, as they decide if they are going in or passing. The private club has a cover charge that you pay gladly. Then you go to the bar (one of two bars in this club) and order a double shot of Irish Whiskey. The price is the first shock that awaits you. The barmaid asks you to pay twice as much as you usually pay. So you pay up but vow to switch to wine, for the rest of the evening.
Its early yet and almost no one is dancing. Two DJs are trying to warm up the small crowd. But people have not had enough to drink (not surprising given the prices being charged). Looking around the room you see all the usual types. There are the disappointed with lifers, the virgins (first Samba party) like yourself, the talkers, the ego drunks, the hopeful women, the eager men, the cool group and the bored stiffs.
Noticing what everyone is wearing helps you pass the time. Three groupings are readily observable. Firstly, there are the dressed to thrill. This involves exposing as much skin as possible. Secondly, there are the cool dressers. These people wear the latest everything. Finally, there are the "I haven't got anything to wear so this will have to do" stiffs. In general, the women wear either, a dress, or, pants so tight they must have had them sprayed on. Men wear shoes that are good for dancing and they have on their best T-Shirts. .
After one hour, the DJs are replaced by the band. In this Samba band, there are two different types of drummers. One is on the heavy Samba drums and the other is a more traditional drummer. There is one member on the electric piano. Then there are two guitarists. The band is made complete with three very attractive ladies. All are great dancers!
One of these dancers, doubles as the main singer. Another dancer is the back up singer. And one of the guitarists provides the male harmony. The last remaining dancer has been placed in her own space. She is so hot that every man in the room checks out her body!
The band takes over the beat of the Samba music and the volume is ratcheted up to the highest level. The women dancers gyrate to the music and encourage the crowd to do the same. The men, in the band, all play up to the crowd. A photographer moves amongst the crowd to take shots of the action. Anyone who still wants to talk must engage in shouting matches. And as the music gets as loud as a jet engine, the gyrations move from the bodies of the dancers to the party goers . Even the security people are tapping their feet and swaying ever so slightly. Soon a pit of party dancers is formed form the crowd. Space between dancers, in the pit, is so minimal that the dancers may as well be married to each other. Mass hysteria takes hold and the action gets savage! The animal instincts of the party goers rises to the surface. Anyone not interested in sex is just not paying attention, to what is goin on around them. You are so crammed up against your partner that you cannot see past her face. And you can see that she has no choice but to look right back at you.
After an hour the band has the dancers at a fever pitch from their uninterrupted dance music. This is when they take their first break.
Like everyone else, you race for the free water and the toilets. Meanwhile many more people flood in from surrounding streets. The music can be heard blocks away and this draws in passing rovers and seekers. After fifteen minutes, the band starts up again. The crowd gets their second wind and goes wild. Now they are dancing in each others pockets, hip to hip. Their body heat reaches critical mass. You and your partner practice the moves you observe all around and enjoy the chaos.
The Club is using an open part of their premises, so when the storm breaks many of the dancers get saturated. But they are too far gone to notice and dance on as the thunder and lightning rent the sky. You and your partner get wet and decide to just ignore the rain. The band is under cover and respond by getting even louder. Your ears are now at severe risk of damage. But, like the other party goers, you just don't care. In fact you don't care about anything but your partner, who appears to be dancing in a trance like state.
Once midnight comes the band stops and everything winds down. Some very exhausted and excited dancers pair up for the after party sporting events. You and your partner have a room booked at a hotel close to the club. A wild night, in many ways, will be the vague memory you will recall. Your partner will recall nothing at all but the mule that kicked her in the head. As other party goers walk to the Bus Stop, they keep the distance between their bodies as close to zero as possible. In your hotel room your ears try to adjust to normal sounds. But the cars, on the street outside the club, had sounded like they were driving on velvet. One thing is sure, you will be back next year to do it all over again.
