Re: Baby It's Cold Outside ... (cont'd)
"We're off." Scott took off, going at moderate speed for the crowded city streets, and sometimes slowing down, to look at things. He coursed through a bit of Central Park, wanting to see the place he had heard about for years, and then found the Empire State Building, and decided that it was far more impressive seen from uptown and some heights. He was not inclined to speak much during the ride, just once or twice suggesting that Alison improve her grip a bit. Once he was north of the 'main' part of Manhattan, he decided to stop gawping and get to the Club. It was easy to find, and they got there just after 6:30pm, a half hour to spare before the entertainment was started.
But he did appreciate having Alison on the bike. Pretty girl, warming his back. He had taken a few of the gang at the mansion on rides, but only on the property. This was different. This was travel, and it felt good to have somebody else with him, even if he was not talking.
Scott looked up at the sign over the big blank-faced brick building, which was hand-lettered and old, and just said "Music! Dance!". In the letter from Mr. King, he had said to Scott to tell folks he was 'getting to the go-go', whatever that meant.
It was in the center of Harlem, and Scott had been none too sure how many white people were going to be around. But there were plenty of them, though definitely the minority. Even before Alison and Scott got off his motorcycle, a few people came over to look at and admire the bike, and to ask Alison if she was was doing the open mike.
As Scott answered some questions about his motorcycle, two or three others came up to Alison, as she got her guitar unstrapped from the bike.
"Hey, girl, yo' boyfrien' bring ya t' play tonight?", asked a middle aged guy carrying a small bongo drum with a cover over each end of it.