So, it’s Thursday night and I got the itch to get my groove on… thrown down, go off, get on the good foot, cut a rug, boogie – you get my drift. But, I’m looking for something a little different. I find out that the Prime Minister of World Grooves himself DJ Garth Trinidad, is hosting a weekly joint on Thursdays at the Standard’s Purple Lounge called “Choice”. Cool. I splash on some Aqua Di Gio, clothes that I pray make me look slick, and I’m down to the Sunset Strip in a flash.

As I valet my car, I notice that The Standard Hotel sign is purposely upside-down. “Freakin’ brilliant.” The kid in me masquerading as a (“ahem”) thirty plus year-old man, tries to turn his head upside-down to read the sign properly. I’m looking like a fool standing in the middle of The Standard driveway contorting myself. But then again, I couldn’t care less.

The valet is cool. The door people are friendly. I walk right in. Funky, casually stylish patrons sip cocktails and engage in conversation. A man lounges on a sofa while typing on his laptop. The vibe seems relaxed, amiable and unpretentious.

I look to the receptionist’s desk and… then I see it.

It’s not quite “The Boy in the Plastic Bubble”, because it’s a girl. She’s in a plastic cube behind the receptionist’s desk. And she’s reading a book amongst white pillows. I soon realize that as long as you don’t panic, there is almost no way to not look fly while chilling in a plastic cube (with pillows) in the middle of a chic, retro-modern, European-flavored hotel lobby. The receptionists pay the “girl in the cube” never-no-mind as they tend to their duties. I should note here that the receptionists, “girl in the cube”, and surrounding areas are dressed in chalk white. “OK, this is some tight eclectic shit.”

I look to the right of the receptionist’s area and a DJ is spinning Electro, House, Hip-Hop, and Disco. The vibe is being enjoyed by the patrons in the lobby, a lounge that is adjacent and open to the lobby area, and the pool area that has a dining/lounge area of its own. I see more staff floating about like busy bees. Male servers are clad in watermelon colored shirts and brown pants (I know, but it works!). Female servers are dressed in simple, short light gray dresses. I’m frozen as I take it all in. “Hello. What can I get for you?” “Hmm? Uhhh, nothing right now, thank you. I’m looking for the Purple Lounge.” “Oh, yes. That’s on the other side at the end of the restaurant. Have fun.” “Always. Thank you.”

I walk past two chairs suspended from the ceiling in their own plastic balls, through a glass door, and into the restaurant. It’s cozy (same retro/modern Euro vibe, of course) and has windows that face The Strip. I see that it stays open 24hrs. and offers everything from seafood (fish and chips are served wrapped in paper in the classic British style) to meat and potatoes (the meatloaf is off the charts!) and a few “more sophisticated” dishes in-between. I hear music. Good music. “It must be Garth.” I make a right at the end of the restaurant and go left through a door.

The Purple Lounge is dark and… purple. Clusters of clear rods hang from the ceiling like crystal stalactites with lavender light inside. These lavender accents throughout the club are posh. It’s an open floor plan, but not “standard” by any means. There are a couple of hanging “chairs” built for two. Large, soft sofas are spread throughout that allow you to lounge for closer encounters. I spot a nook and cranny or two away from the main space.

It’s been a few minutes now and I realize that my head has been bobbing non-stop. Garth Trinidad has been spinning a flawless set of Classic Hip-Hop, Classic R&B, House, Electronica and World Beat seamlessly - the way that only he can. To the right I catch sight of a glorious bar accentuated by an amber glow. I bounce over to the bar, head-bobbing the whole way.

The bartender is wearing all black with a bold horizontal red stripe across the shirt. She’s friendly. The cocktail waitresses are wearing simple red dresses like the staff in the lobby lounge. I figure I’d look cool with a drink in my hand. There’s a special on Mojitos, so I order one. It’s pretty good (at least as far as my novice alcohol taste buds can surmise).

I hear a Jazzanova tune playing (premiere Electronica group!). I almost lose it as I look to the back of the lounge at the DJ booth again. “Garth is throwing down hard tonight!” I decide to revel in the rhythms before I greet him. I take a detour to the adjacent outside patio.

Although it’s next to the street, it’s enclosed and secluded. Couches, tables and overhead space heaters make you want to embrace the night air. And you can still hear the music. Nice. I take in a deep breath, smile at two gorgeous ladies sitting on a sofa, and go back inside.

Apparently, I’m not the only one feeling the groove because although there isn’t a dancefloor per se (but there is room to dance), plenty of people have decided to shake their asses wherever they can. The 25 – 40 year old hipsters have mostly congregated in the cleared space in front of the DJ booth. I sift through the crowd and finally get to Garth. He steps from behind the ones ‘n’ twos. “Thanks for coming down.” “My pleasure, man. This is off the hook.” I find out that The Standard is always happening and has been for a longtime.

So, my question is… “Where the hell have I been?”

by Cazembe Abena