Dance Away

Through all the commotion and bustle of a local Greenwich Village bar, a horn cuts through with the reedy sounds of alto saxophonist, Stacy Dillard. The crowd ranges in age from a few children (who aren’t allowed to sit at the bar of course) to old jazz enthusiasts who have hung onto the scene since the hey-day 60s. In the back corner, three teenagers chat amongst themselves.

“I can’t do with this New York jazz anymore. No one seems to have IT. The people are uptight, and the horn players think they’re the shit. What the fuck is up with the diva vocalists too? Graduating from the New School doesn’t make you good.” Pat complains.

Pat attends NYU in the Gallatin school of Individualized Studies. His brunette hair is short but waves off at the end with a flow that emulates the sea. Originating from New Orleans, the music scene drastically differs.

Katrina nods in agreement. She enjoys letting Pat take the dominant role in their relationship when they’re in public, so no one knows. “This attitude in New York really is something. Do you think it’s an east coast thing?”

“I can’t imagine what else it could be! Every club and bar I visit, the music all has this edgy element to it as if no one knows how to lay back anymore. But, San Francisco I hear is quite happenin’.”

Stacy Dillard blows through the last notes concluding his set and a few file out. Most choose to stick around the bar and discuss jazz standards, and how to maneuver through 2-5-1 progressions.

“It would be mad cool to make a trip over winter break. I mean… hella. Is that the right terminology?”

Ted interjects, “But where ever will we find the funds on our poor college funds? My mom doesn’t really give me any allowance.”

“Well… you don’t have to go. We didn’t even invite you.”

The trio turned duo makes it through the rigor of Gallatin finals. Pat convinced his parents it would be helpful towards finding himself and it’s actually directly related to his concentration. Katrina just has the bills to afford it.

Jet Blue flight 2930 arrives at SFO gate 37 in the afternoon on December 31st. Pat and Katrina take a taxi to the Hyatt on Columbus Avenue in North Beach. Columbus Avenue is littered with strip clubs, but this is a special evening. New Years Eve parties will be rampant and fireworks will occur over the bay.

A bell hop heaves their luggage onto a cart and Katrina insta-flirts with him.
In the elevator, Kat’s finger runs along the bell hop’s back.

“Damn, that California sun really makes a boy hella tan.”

“You’re mistaken. San Francisco is perpetually cloudy. I just did swim team all through high school,” responds Javier as he shrugs off her weak attempt. A rectangle of plastic does brush against his hand though. He pauses, contemplates, and grips down. Pat’s too busy awkwardly staring at the walls and floor numbers.

They get off at their floor and the three of them head over to room 906. Javier drops off their bags and Pat leaves him a generous tip.
The room is gorgeously simple yet generic. They have two queen sized beds because Katrina doesn’t feel comfortable enough for the one king sized. Their relationship has been consistent since freshman year yet they have not explored sexual interests. They don’t even know what the other is into.

“So, where to?”

Katrina responds, “I just want to rest… I don’t even think I can go out anymore tonight after that six hour plane ride. We haven’t even gotten anything to eat.”

She pulls herself up and peers out the window. Masses crowd in celebration. The streets are littered with people drinking or looking to get drunk.
“Maybe that cute bell hop also does room service.”

The subject is dropped.

“Lets go out tonight. New Years is such a festive holiday” continued Katrina.

“I really wanted to see Brubeck appear at Yoshi’s on the Fillmore though. He’s old now but it has to be incredible especially for a New Years concert. He’s planning on showing up with his quintet.”

“I get it. You like jazz more than us. That’s why you ditch date night for stupid music. I should just run off forever with John Mayer or something.”

“Fine, I’ll dress up, but I won’t dance.”

Reluctantly Pat lets himself get dragged by the wrist down to the street. He looks good though in a grey striped dress shirt and slacks. Katrina goes all out though, donning a suede minidress that reminds one of Scarlett Johansson. Simple black heels complement. They restrict her movement at 2mph compared to the usual accelerated rate that women will try to walk at. It’s comfortable for Pat now to have this dominance of walking speed.

The two arrive at the New Years Eve Ball at San Francisco’s City Hall after a 20 minute walk. A mashup of a Kanye West song and another unknown song plays. Around a thousand people fill the venue.

“Come on,” ushers Katrina, as she tugs on Pat’s left hand. “You don’t look cool standing at the bar,” she wines. Pat refuses and sticks to his comfortable stool, while Katrina walks off into the crowd quickly getting lost.

Pat’s cool with that. He purchases overpriced drink after overpriced drink content with himself.

“Are you forced to be here too?” comes a voice.

“My girl lacks taste. I really planned on coming here to check out the jazz scene.”

Theodore responds, “I dig. I really don’t find any interest in the top 40s or this new hip-hop. I want bop to return, but it doesn’t seem to be happening soon. The Roots are doing well as far as improvisation in hip-hop though. Not many groups appeal, like Nicki Minaj can’t rap or sing so…” and seats himself at the bar.

“I know! My roommate falls head over heels over ankles over Nicki Minaj, but I don’t hear it. Auto-tune…”

An hour passes. The music gets to Pat’s head. He hasn’t seen Katrina the entire time. He gets off his drunk ass and decides to sift through the crowd. Every drunk bitch looks the same now. Every song sounds the same now. She’s nowhere to be seen. His own room key is missing from as well as his ID, cash, social security card, and passport.

Interview with the SF Chronicle

SFC: What is your motivation for writing this award winning short story?

EC: I chose the first setting after reading about jazz clubs in Kerouac’s On The Road where Dean gets enthralled by a jazz group. I wanted my character to be disappointed with the New York scene so he would find a desire to head west. With San Francisco as the second scene, I wanted to put a retro mind into the club scene and see the reactions of him and the people around him to him. Also, the idea of seduction is taken from Comfort of Strangers. I wanted to turn this around and have the newcomer up on the local, but it’s never resolved who goes through with what and why Pat has none of his stuff at the end. Also, Katrina is disappointed that her boyfriend doesn’t want to spend time with her similar to the rejection in Sputnik Sweetheart so she disappears indefinitely. She might return Pat’s stuff in the future, but it’s never confirmed.

SFC: Where do you get the names for your characters?

EC: I chose Patrick and Katrina because I’ve always loved the nickname Pat and calling Patricks “Pat”. And Katrina is from the reference to New Orleans. Pat is from New Orleans and loved it there and would like to return to a city that has a larger sense of community, but he’s in New York. He tries out the west coast for a change, but loses Katrina and himself with drinking. In The Sun Also Rises, escape is found through alcohol in order to forget traumatic war scenes that may lurk in the veterans’ memories. Pat drinks so he forgets that he’s at a lame club.

SFC: Are some of your own opinions mixed in with the opinions of your characters?

EC: Yes, I’m not much of a Nicki Minaj enthusiast, and I totally spin off what I’ve heard about the music scene in New York. I’ve seen the edgy sound in person at jam sessions around here, but great music too. The stereotype is not all encompassing at all. I don’t agree with all my characters. Katrina does have good taste though in that John Mayer remark.

SFC: How much time went into writing this work?

EC: An artist does not disclose the processes going into a masterpiece.