Waiting It Out

By midnight, Latin band Oro Solido still hadn't arrived at Visage. Club management had tried to woo them in—along with the other performers at Westbury Music Fair on that Saturday night—for a post-concert fete. Even gave them wristbands before they went onstage to ensure a trouble-free admission.

Tasha, who wore pigtails and glasses, cheered the group and their rapid-fire pelvic thrusts at the Westbury show. Now she's impatient for the band to show up at the Latin nightclub. "I can't wait for my boys to come in," she says, staking out the booth closest to the door with some friends. She can tell you about the four guys in the band: They have similar buzz cuts, identical black-and-white costumes and equally buffed bodies, but she still has a favorite.

Not that she knows his name. And posters for Oro Solido don't list the members. Maybe she'll ask her favorite to show her some salsa steps, a merengue pattern—take even a closer look at his moving pelvis. She has a lot to learn: This is her first time in a Latin club.

A bouncer checked her out soon after she walked in, and throughout the night he makes small talk with her. Another guy sits down next to her, twitching nervously as they talk. He offers to give her a dance lesson. He insists on buying drinks for her and her pals. And all along his hands are folded over his chest. "He's so sweet," Tasha says on the sly.

"Sweet," in this case, is the kiss of death. Besides, there's always the Nameless One from Oro Solido.

But the hot band never shows up. Tasha's friends try to help his cause—and hers—by making up an excuse to leave her alone in a booth with the nervous guy. Eventually, he connects with her. He takes her hand. When he asks for her number, she gives him her business card at first, playing it safe. But then he asks for her home phone number, and she gives it up. That's called moving on.


Visage 272 Post Ave, Westbury 516-876-0393.

 
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