A Night with Alberta Essay -- Personal Narrative Descriptive Essays

A Night with AlbertaOn a cold winter Saturday night, a wind whips across Washington Square into the canyons of Manhattan. Near refreshed York Universitys main dormitory is a small jazz club. The considerable tinted front windows at street level and the subdued lighting susceptibility make a visitor think of an a exercise setoned storefront. However, this small perpetrate is w here magic can happen. The Cookery is a portal between the mystify and the past.Entering the club, the host finds my new married woman and me a seat. This is both complaisant and practical for the fresh snow renders the newest patrons blind at first. Once position at the po submit stamped sized tables, the eyes begin to ad notwithstanding. The cold digest and the premium for space has made it very cramped. Fur coats, down parkas, fleece trench coats and the occasional sweatshirt battle for space between chairs. The jazz lovers here run the gamut of New Yorks elite to the students of NYU, with all stops in between. Businessmen in two-piece double-breasted business suits sit conterminous to students in neat flannel shirts and jeans. The bodies of the lucky front row patrons protection the stage area from the arctic blast from the door. The stage area lies vacant. An acoustical bass, upright piano and a set of speakers stand as sentinels guarding the stage area. The lighting bathing these silent talismans seems more appropriate to a museum than that of a performance. As we all wait for the music to begin, the room fills with that subdued seethe of countless private conversations. My wife and I order a ostensibly appropriate micro-brewed beer, Brooklyn Beer. The mild bitterness and light sparkle of the beer fits the time just right. The beers come in two bottles, each with a complimentary leggy glass. The beer and glasses produ... ...hint of a sweet wine. To my pleasant surprise, I find the cocoa is a Martini. A sip of the tea reveals Brandy, orange and lemon. The tea is a Side car.We sip our contraband beverages as the singer segues into a blues nervous strain that is beyond her years. She sings it though with a feeling that only familiarity should provide. The song finishes, and the band takes a break. I take a last sip of my beer as the tobacco aroma seems to fade from my nostrils. I am asked what I would corresponding for my next drink. I open my eyes. The table is again small. Alberta is walking by me to get back to her stairs. I change my drink to a Martini and my wifes drink to a Sidecar. Somehow, I know it is best to ache a drink from the correct era. Alberta stops when she hears my order. She looks at me and says, I notion I saw you with us. Well be back in ten transactions sonny. Ill see you there.