On Friday night, I went to see Najee, an American smooth jazz saxophonist at Blues Alley, a jazz supper club in Washington, D.C. I had been to the club before with friends and was familiar with the venue and the long line awaiting entry. The seating is general so it’s first come -first served. The show was sold out; I expected a large gathering.
I arrived slightly late, due to traffic, and asked to be seated at the bar. Once inside, the ambiance was dark with flickers of lights from candles and very dim lighting facilitating an intimate setting. Najee and his band were on stage performing and the smooth, rhythmic sounds from his band mesmerized the crowd. I walked to the bar unnoticed.
There were three people seated at the bar, and I sat next to this professionally dressed gentleman. Although he appeared to be consumed by the music, he gave me a welcoming smile as I sat next to him. After a few minutes, I began to relax and my body began to sway to the music. I ordered a drink and like the rest of the crowd, was captivated by the music.
Immediately after the show, a member from the band came to the bar. He smiled at me and asked me if I enjoyed the show. I smiled and told him yes. Before I could barely utter another word, people began to swarm him, but not before I was able to inquire about Najee’s whereabouts. He leaned his head over from an admiring fan to tell me. I waved bye to him and proceeded to find Najee.
As I left the venue, I noticed Georgetown was overflowing with crowds of people. I walked to my car alone, but I did not feel alone. In addition to the masses of people out enjoying the Georgetown nightlife, I also walked with a new level of confidence.