3 friends, 10 drinks, 1 night on the town

Last week I went to the Rrazz Room with my friends Danny and William to see a singer named Eve Marie.

"Now, who is this woman again?" I asked Danny, as we enjoyed a little dinner before the show.

"Eve? Oh, she's the daughter of my coworker Cliff's girlfriend. Gorgeous voice. Cliff says he can't even listen to her without crying. Cheers," he added, and we all clinked our wine glasses together.

"To a lovely evening," proposed William, and Danny and I murmured our assent, noses already buried in our glasses.

"But honestly? I want to check out the room," confessed Danny when he surfaced. "Have you ever been to the Rrazz Room?" I shook my head. "It's supposed to be this great space, right inside the Hotel Nikko. And now that I'm planning to do another show, I want to see if this might be the right room for me."

"Are you doing another show?" asked William.

"Oh yeah, I'm already gathering ideas for it. I've got all these stories floating around in my head that I can't wait to tell." I saw Danny's show last year. He does a cabaret-type act that's half singing, half story-telling. And unlike many singers who talk between their songs, you actually want to hear Dan's stories, he tells them with such panache.

"I'm so impressed by you," I said, taking another sip of wine. "You just decided, 'Hey, I'm going to put on a show!' and then you went out there and did it. That's incredible."

"You should be doing this, my dear," said Danny.

"Well, you've got me thinking about it," I admitted. "I guess I didn't realize that it was something I could actually do. You know, because I don't have any original tunes yet. But you just picked some songs, got a pianist and booked a room, huh?"

"Yes, but this time I'm thinking about having a bass player!" declared Danny, and William and I oohed appreciatively. We passed a pleasant dinner discussing our plans for super-stardom. When I finally pushed away my plate I let out a sigh of contentment.

"What time is it?" asked Dan.

"Six o'clock," replied William.

"We've got time for another round!" I joked, and everybody laughed.

"The show is at seven; we don't want to be late," fretted Danny.

"Dan, relax," said William. "The venue is literally across the street. Oh, excuse me -" he said to a passing waiter. "Can we get another round, please?"

"Oh William, I was joking," I protested, but the waiter was already off.

"We want to make sure we get good seats!" persisted Danny.

"I was going to stick to one glass of wine," I said to nobody in particular.

"We'll leave here at twenty to, walk across the street and be fifteen minutes early," William reassured Danny. The waiter reappeared with our second round.

"Cheers!" we chorused, and all took a sip.

"Well, it doesn't take me much," I warned the guys. "This is already going to my head."

"Well then," said Dan, "we'll have to switch to apple martinis for the two drink minimum."

"Oh Danny," I said in dismay. "There's a two drink minimum?" I looked at my full glass of wine, gave a little sigh and then threw back a slug.

Zing! "Hey!" I said, flushed with sudden urgency. "Did I show you guys my business cards?" I rooted around in my purse for my brand new, hot pink, plastic card holder. I slapped six cards onto the table and pushed them around, lining them up.



"They're little pictures of you singing!" cried Danny, scooping one up.

"I know!" I said jubilantly. "And they're all different! Well, I've got six different designs. And look! They've got my name on the back!"

"Errin Marie, Vocalist," read William.

"That's my singing name," I said proudly.

"Just like Eve Marie!" said Danny.

"Mm hmm," I conceded, taking another swig of wine. I wondered if I could get this other woman to change her name.

"These are really cool. Where did you get them printed?" asked William.

"Moo.com," I said. "They print all kinds of cool stuff, from business cards to stickers. These are actually mini business cards, but I liked the look of them better." We admired my cards for a moment.

"I want to take a couple," said Danny. "So I can keep one and give one to a friend." He and William both chose their favorite cards.

"Okay," I said. "But don't give them out for a couple of weeks. My website isn't quite done yet."

After another half an hour (during which Dan checked William's watch three times) we left the restaurant and headed across the street to the club. I was feeling pleasantly floaty and suddenly really looking forward to hearing some music. We entered the Hotel Nikko and got in line at the Rrazz Room entrance.

"Swanky," murmured Danny, looking around.

"I had no idea it was so nice in here," I said. "I think I might just come and hang out in this lobby sometime."

"Between Sunday services," suggested William, and we laughed. The hotel is right next door to Glide.

Danny grabbed a show bill and we examined it as the line crept forward.

"Petula Clark's coming here," he pointed out.

"Hey, Freda Payne," spotted William.

"Oh! Oh! Ben Vereen!" I cried.

"Oh, he's wonderful," enthused Dan.

"I love Ben Vereen - and I will tell you why," I said, although nobody asked. "When my mother was pregnant with me, she and my dad went to go to see Ben Vereen - "

"In Pippin?" broke in Danny.

"No, I think it must have been a one-man show, kind of like this one - "

"Have you seen him in Pippin?"

"No, I haven't - "

"Oh, you've got to see Pippin! It's wonderful!"

"Okay, okay!" I said. "Anyway, it must have been in Saint Louis, cause I was born in Michigan, but only by a hot minute; my parents lived in Saint Louis until my mom was nearly due. So anyway, they went to go see Ben Vereen at his show, and afterward they got to go back to his dressing room and talk to him! And Ben Vereen bent over and called into my mother's belly button, "Hello in there!"

"Hey, that's cool!" said William.

"Isn't it?" I gushed. "So whenever I meet Ben Vereen - and I know I will someday - I'm going to tell him that story." I paused, thoughtful. "Of course, I always said that when I met John Ritter I would tell him about the idea that I had for a TV series starring him..."

"You met John Ritter?" asked Danny.

"No. But I saw him once! He was walking the streets of Manhattan with his wife and they walked right by me. And I was gathering up my courage to talk to him...but then I chickened out. And then...he died." I shook my head sorrowfully and the room spun around me. Whoa, I'm a little bit drunk, I realized.

"Tickets?" asked the man at the door. We'd reached the front of the line. Danny gave him our tickets and we were escorted into the Rrazz Room - which was packed to the gills.

"You want to get here at least 45 minutes early for the show next time," said the host. "Seating is first come, first serve."

"You hear that, guys?" Danny said dryly as we took our seats in the back. William and I muttered our apologies and looked shiftily at one another. Then I let out a little snort of laughter. Danny was already making friends with guy next to him.

The waitress came around to take our order.

"I'll have a glass of Syrah," requested William.

"I'm thinking: apple martini!" declared Danny.

"Bad idea, Dan," warned William. "Stick with the wine or you'll be hurting tomorrow."

"OK," said Danny, happy enough. "Then I'll have a Pinot."

"And for you, miss?" asked the waitress.

Oh, the hell with it. "I'll have a Chardonnay," I said. Who cared that it was a Sunday night? I'm unemployed.

"Hey guys, this is Stefán," Danny introduced us to the stranger on his other side. "He's on vacation, here from - where are you from?"

Stefán, from France, I believe, shook hands with us all. When Danny introduced me he said, "And this is Errin - she's a fantastic singer, too - oh hey, take her card!" He rooted around in his pocket and produced one of my business cards. "Go to her website!" endorsed Danny.

"Um, not yet!" I said awkwardly. "I mean, it's not quite ready yet. But it will be in a few weeks!"

"Do you have any recordings?" asked Stefán politely. The waitress returned and handed round our drinks.

"No, nothing yet," I said, taking a sip of wine and smiling brightly. God, I've got to produce something, I thought.

"But you can hear her sing online," insisted Dan.

"In a couple of weeks," I reminded him.

"In a couple of weeks," amended Danny. "Hey, what's that you're drinking? Ooh, mojito!"

The lights dimmed and Eve Marie stepped onto the stage, launching right into her first song.

She had a lovely, strong voice, but I could tell she was nervous. I could see it in the way she moved, as though she hadn't quite practiced what to do with her body; she didn't appear relaxed. I was forcibly reminded of the way it feels to be on an unfamiliar stage. And that knowledge that I knew how she felt brought it home to me; suddenly I thought: I can do this.

A dart of warmth spread through me at the realization. (Although, thinking back, that may have been the wine.)

With barely any banter, Eve kicked off her second tune and I started paying very close attention. I found myself wondering why she'd chosen these songs, and I realized I missed that storytelling element that comes into play in most live performances. People want to know what these songs mean to you, I mused, making a mental note.

I began to view Eve's performance as a master class. I scrutinized the details: She had a 5 man band, including 1 guy who played at least 3 instruments. She did 7 songs in the first set, clocking in at 50 minutes. Her songs had a certain similarity about them; they all sounded great in her voice, but a bit more variety might have spiced things up. And she hadn't done a test run in her dress; the shoulder straps kept falling down.

The lights came up at intermission and I was digging in my purse for a pen and paper. William finally passed me a cocktail menu.

"Thanks," I said, turning it over and starting to jot down notes.

"So what do you think?" asked Danny, rounding on us.

"She's got a beautiful voice," I said honestly. "Although I wish she would talk to us a bit more between songs, you know, the way you do. You've really got a talent for that, Dan." I scribbled some more on my cocktail menu.

"You should be doing this," he said to me seriously. "Can't you see yourself in this room? You would own this place. Are you thinking about it?"

I looked around slowly. "Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I am."

The waitress came around to take our order again. William and I each requested a bottle of water. "Oh, come on!" said Danny. "Apple martini?" William shook his head.

"Mojito?"

"Dan, if you get a mojito, you're going to be sick as a dog," said William, leaning across the table toward him. "And I'm going to call you at 7 o'clock tomorrow morning just to wake you up and laugh at you."

"I'll have another Pinot, thanks," said Danny to the waitress. He turned to us. "God, I'm having fun! It's so nice to be able to let off some steam!" Danny works for a hotel and recently they changed his shift to the 4 AM. He's on short-term retirement from social life, as these days he goes to bed around 6 in the evening. "I'm so happy I have tomorrow off!" he continued. "I miss people! I miss doing things! Oh, thank you," he said as the waitress returned and handed him a fresh glass. "Cheers!" he saluted us. William and I tipped our water bottles at him.

That's when I learned that 4 glasses of wine is Danny's tipping point.

"Woo hoo!" he screamed when the lights went back down. Eve Marie returned to the stage and began her second set. In the darkness, I started writing out a list of songs for my own show.

Every time Eve finished a song Danny would let out a holler. Unfortunately, he would also look to his left to see if William and I had enjoyed the tune, and the result was that he kept yelling directly in my ear. After a few songs I got smart and started leaning back out of range whenever Eve wrapped up a number.

"Isn't she great! God, she's great!" shouted Dan over his own applause. He grabbed my arm. "I see you up there!" he hissed. "Do you see it?"

And so it went for the entire second set. Wild applause. "Woo hoo!" "Isn't she great?" "Do you see yourself up there?"

But the thing is, I was beginning to see myself up there. Buoyed by Danny's enthusiasm, by William's reassurance ("Don't you see her up there, Will?" "Yes, I do."), by three glasses of wine, I was starting to inflate with this sense of possibility. Scratching out a set list on the back of a cocktail menu took on a weighty significance; I resolved to keep it as a memento of the night I began to plan my first show.

The lights went up and Dan went wild. "WOO HOO! Oh, that was fantastic! Wasn't that fantastic? My God, she was great! Oh, there's Cliff! Look, he's crying! I gotta go talk to him. No, we've gotta meet Eve!" He scuttled away.

William started to chuckle. "That Dan is a trip," he said, shaking his head. "I think three glasses of wine is his limit."

"You think?" I laughed.

Danny reappeared, propelling Eve by the sheer force of his excitement. She held a large bouquet of flowers and looked a little overwhelmed. "This is Eve!" announced Danny, reverently. "And this is William and Errin. We sing together in the Glide Ensemble!"

"Hello," said Eve, shaking our hands.

"You were wonderful," I said. "Very inspiring."

She thanked us and moved on. Danny was overcome with delight. "Wasn't that just a marvelous show?" he asked us as we put on our coats and stepped out of the darkened club. "I just had the best time!"

"She was great," agreed William.

"Very inspiring," I said again. I pulled out my cocktail menu and gazed at it fondly.

Under the lights in the lobby I saw that my set list was a jumble of unintelligible scrawl. I squinted at it.

What the hell does that say? I wondered. DMB? What does that stand for? Dave Matthews Band?

"We should come back to see Ben Vereen!" Danny was saying.

"I'd be up for that," replied William.

This list doesn't make any sense, I realized with dismay. I peered at it stupidly. Damn, how drunk am I?

"Oh, bye Stefán!" called Danny. "Remember to check out Errin's website!"

I blinked and looked up. "In a couple of weeks!" I said anxiously, but Stefán was gone.

"Shall we walk Errin to the BART?" asked William.

"Oh, I thought we'd get another drink," said Danny.

"I've got to work tomorrow, Dan!" said William.

"Yeah, I'm done too," I said, stuffing the set list back in my pocket.

"Oh. Okay," Dan relented.

We walked to the BART station, chattering about the show. "Listen," Danny said in his final pitch, "You should be thinking about your show. I mean it Errin, you would rock that room."

William concurred: "Here, here."

I was filled with a rush of love for my two friends. How lucky am I to have such encouragement? I gave each of them a big hug.

"Thank you both for a wonderful evening," I said. "I had a great time."

"Me too," said William. "We'll see you on Wednesday."

"See ya, Sweets!" chorused Dan.

They waved at me as I skipped down the steps into the station. Then, as they turned and walked away I heard Danny say, "So what do you think about just one apple martini?"