There are a lot of food events in and around Atlanta, and many of them are very similar. I’m not complaining – an abundance of delicious food is never a bad thing, especially when it’s accompanied by an open bar. But, I had a feeling The Atlanta Food Rave at Mason Murer was going to be different…and I was right. Highlights included:
- An open bar featuring Sinless Margarita and various vodkas
- Whynatte station
- Freixenet station (my favorite bubbly)
- Chocolate Pink. Enough said.
- Artists doing ass portraits (no, seriously) of the guests (clothed, of course)
- Rooms full of food which included: The Shed room featuring various sliders (all of which I felt the need to sample), and a P’Cheen barbecue room featuring a whole hog (a dead one) and the best wings I’ve ever tasted
What I would do for one of those wings right now….
I’d like to describe my feelings towards this night as “a kid in a candy shop.” I’d just never had so many of my favorite things in one place at one time. Except when I go to Inserection.
Early in the night, I spotted a Paula Deen lookalike and pointed her out to my friends. We later saw her on the dance floor breaking it down and, while her moves weren’t much crazier than my mom after too many glasses of Chardonnay at the bar, this lady looked at least 10 years my mom’s senior and we were at a classy event, not a bar. I don’t know whether it was out of pity for her or jealousy of her stealing the spotlight, but I joined her on the dance floor.
That’s right. Just Paula and me, cuttin’ a rug.
Single Ladies DID come on and my friends forced me into the middle of the dance floor where I pulled out a few moves, got some claps and cheers, but then retreated back out of the limelight. Paula’s popularity had really thrown me off my game.
The crew and I made some more rounds, downed a few more cocktails and sliders, and eventually, headed back out to the dance floor vicinity, expecting to see a crowd of party patrons that had taken advantage of the open bar and were now ready to get down.
But, no. Paula still had the crowd’s full attention. She was a DANCING MACHINE. There was no stopping her. And, she didn’t even look like she was getting out of breath! It was actually quite a spectacle – the most amazing kind of spectacle. A circle of people was literally forming around her chanting, “Go Paula! Go Paula!” (ok so that didn’t happen, but there was a circle around her), and then she disappeared from her circle of adoring fans for a moment….
…and came back with props.
No, she di’int! you say? Oh, yes she did. She found a dustpan and broom because, apparently, her dance routine was getting too, well, routine, without props. This woman was a pro. She continued to dance around, oblivious to the giant crowd forming around her, mock-sweeping up the floor and twirling the dustpan in the air (until the actual “pan” part flew off and she discarded the whole thing).
This was her grand finale…
I like to call it the “Power Sweep.”
Paula eventually left the dance floor to the disappointment of the crowd and someone even walked by me and said, “she really showed up your Single Ladies dance.” Thanks asshole. Like I wasn’t aware.
The night would have been amazing without Paula, but WITH her, it just made it that much better. Besides eating that last lobster slider, I only have one regret: not bringing my FLIP video camera.