Private Party

Let Me Entertain You

Madison Square Garden, 1978

. . . . .

"Sweet dreams, New York! Thank you for your time... and your moneyyy!"

The concert crowd exploded in cheers, as their idols exited the stage to the rock adaptation of "God Save the Queen." The house lights went up, signaling that the show was over.

"Oh my God, that was incredible!" I shouted to Lisa. My ears were ringing, and my hands were buzzing from rounds of enthusiastic applause.

"I'm so glad you invited me! I had no idea Queen was so great. What a show!" Lisa shouted back.

"Tell me about it! Isn't Freddie Mercury just the sexiest man you've ever seen?" I grasped her arm and swooned. She pulled away from me playfully and laughed.

"Holy shit, Karen! Did you see the size of..." she leaned in close, "...his dick?"

I screamed with laughter. "Girrrl! How could you miss it?!" We giggled like school girls as we followed a mass of people to the exit doors.

"That drummer, though!" Lisa gushed, and waved her hand in front of her face in a fanning motion. "What a fox!"

My jaw dropped. "Really?" I gaped at my friend with a sly grin. "You're a Roger girl?"

"Ohh, yum. I'd like to show him a thing or two," she winked and playfully pushed her breasts together and did a little shimmying dance.

"You little slut!" I laughed, and we staggered out into the cool night air, free from the noise and heat of the crowded arena.

"God, I am so buzzed!" Lisa called out. "Let's go do something. Anything! D'you think there's a bar or a nightclub around here?"

"Pretty sure we passed one a few blocks from here on the cab ride into the city. Let's head... that way." I pointed to a bunch of other concert goers heading toward the subway. Lisa and I joined them on the pavement, and talked about the evening's entertainment, still high from the thrill of the band's energy.

We walked about 6 blocks until we heard loud bass notes and rhythmic drum beats emanating from a nearby disco. People were queued up outside the door, waiting to get in. "How's this?" I asked. Lisa nodded her approval and we joined the back of the line.

After what felt like an hour in the November chill, we were finally ushered into the warm humidity of the crowded night club. Our senses were immediately assaulted by flashing lights, explosive music, cigarette smoke, body odors, and a melange of perfumes and Aqua Net.

Lisa and I had to duck and weave through a hundred people just to reach the bar. We ordered drinks, then set out to mingle with the crowd and look for a dance partner.

Suddenly my eye caught a flash of light reflecting off the surface of someone's mirrored sunglasses. Through the crowd, I saw that the glasses belonged to a dark-haired man in a leather jacket, seated at a corner booth. He was surrounded by friends, talking and gesturing colorfully, with a drink in one hand. He let out a boisterous laugh and I immediately did a double-take when I saw his unmistakable smile. Holy shit. Freddie Mercury is in this night club. Twenty feet away from me.

"Oh my God," I whispered. Then, in an increasingly frantic yelp, I heard myself shout, "Ohmygod-ohmygod-OHMYGOD!!"

"What? What's wrong? Karen?" I could hear Lisa's voice cutting through the din.

All I could do was point.

She grabbed my arm and gasped. "Jesus Christ! Is that Roger the drummer?"

"What?!" I hadn't even noticed Roger. "Fucking hell, Lisa! Oh my God!"

"What do we do? Should we go say Hi to them? Do you think they'll mind? Is Roger single? How do I look?" Lisa rattled off her questions in rapid succession. My head was spinning. I took a gulp of my drink.

The alcohol burned my throat. I inhaled deeply and sighed, "Ohhhh, okay. Okay, yes. Let's go for it."

We walked over to their table.

"Excuse me. Hi," I said, summoning every ounce of confidence I could muster. Freddie's face looked up at me and I attempted to make eye contact through his dark sunglasses. "Um... Would you like to dance?" Lisa jabbed me with her elbow. "With us? Would anyone..." I glanced toward Roger and gulped, "...like to dance?" Ugh, God, I am blowing it.

"Why don't you ladies join us for a drink instead? I don't dance," Roger answered. Freddie raised his hand, and a waiter seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

"Another round for the table, and drinks for our new friends," Freddie told the waiter, and then turning back to me, said, "What'll it be, ladies?"

"Vodka tonic," I replied.

"Excellent choice!" Freddie raised his glass to me, and I noticed that his drink looked similar to mine.

Lisa requested champagne, and Freddie looked at the waiter and said, "your finest, please."

The waiter dashed off, and Roger said, "Have a seat." A member of their party pulled over some chairs and sat us directly opposite Roger, Freddie, and their friends.

"What do you think of this music? Rubbish, isn't it?" Roger asked.

"Oh, fuck off," Freddie laughed. "What my friend here is trying to say is that he and his superior tastes are far too sophisticated for this club."

"I'll never be drunk enough to appreciate disco," Roger grumbled, and took a swig of his whiskey.

The waiter returned with our drinks, and a handsome young stud sitting next to Freddie leaned over and whispered in his ear. Freddie mouthed something back, and sipped at his vodka. The young man placed his elbows on the table and leaned in toward me and Lisa.

"So... You girls like to party?"

Lisa and I laughed nervously and looked at each other. "Yeah," she said, and she glanced quickly over at Roger. "We party."