What happens on Beale Street stays on Beale Street

On Sunday, the international office organized a day's trip to Memphis to catch the NBA game that night, featuring the Memphis Grizzlies and the Washington Wizards. 

Simona and I hopped on the bus and did some shopping that afternoon at the Wolfchase Galleria, before we were taken to Beale Street, just outside the grand basketball stadium.

Before I go on, here are pictures of Simona and myself. Simona greatly contrasts me in height. Walking beside her, I felt like an elf. Lol.

 

Simona

Me :)

And here we are on Beale Street, the most famous street in Memphis.

Buildings pack together, framing the red cobbled road that stretches from one end of the street to the other. It is void of vehicles. Tourists and locals parade Beale Street in summer outfits, mainly t-shirts and shorts. Children are running in delight while their parents holler after them. Couples hold hands and sip on margaritas at 3 in the afternoon, while admiring the funky live jazz bands that are performing in pubs and in the open.

 

The sun continues to shine and the bands continue to play. Music floats around us, engulfing us with its upbeat melodies. The effect of the bands are contagious; people are dancing on the streets, clapping their hands and singing along.

You can't walk down Beale Street and turn your back on the music. You can't pretend the music doesn't speak to your soul. People of all ages, ethnicites and regions are united on this colorful street by the jazz and blues music radiating from soulful singers and their trumpets and electric guitars. Drums provide the percussion and keyboards add a creative tinkle to the music.

This isn't Nashville, so there are no long, blond-haired singers sitting on the sidewalks strumming on their acoustic guitars. All around you, you hear the strong vocals of the singers as they belt into the microphones, the rhythmic thump of the drum as it echoes the melody of the electric guitar, and the suave voices of the trumpets. 

 

It's not even nightfall but the street is alive. Colorful signs beckon visitors. Souvenir shops sell slightly overpriced merchandise made from cheap quality. I buy a black oversized Memphis t-shirt and a couple of postcards, and then Simona and I walk to a nearby pub to get drinks.

Well, we're thirsty! At the pub, we meet three young men who chat us up and we politely return the conversation before grabbing our drinks and heading out. They're friendly blokes, but we don't have time to stay and chat because we only have another 15 minutes to explore Beale Street before the NBA game begins. 

We both get strawberry daiquiris, which are swimming with alcohol. One sip sends me frowning at the alcohol content. 

10 minutes later, I've drank half of it. We pause outside Hard Rock Cafe to take a couple of pictures, and I decide I want to go in to check out the merchandise. 

Okay, here's where the title comes in. What happens on Beale Street stays on Beale Street. 

I seriously doubt this will ever happen again :)

I don't drink a lot, therefore, I start feeling slightly woozy after several sips. The drink's a little too strong for my liking. 

                              

As I walk up to the counter in Hard Rock Cafe, my head feels extra light. Each time I blink or turn, the room seems to turn with me. But I'm not drunk; just entering the first stage of tipsiness. But I don't know this yet.

I'm a sucker for soft toys. I have a bunch of soft toys on my bed, collected from various parts of my travels. I decide I want the dark brown bear with the white Hard Rock Cafe hoodie sitting on the wooden shelf behind the counter. It costs $18, and normally I wouldn't spend this much on a bear, when I could be spending that amount on a pretty Forever 21 blouse.

But Simona, half-tipsy too, says, "Get it. It's so cute and it's for the memory. How often do you go to Hard Rock Cafe anyway?"

There are 3 replicas of the bear on the shelf. I ask to see all of them, because "all teddy bears have different faces."

I don't realize how silly that sounds, and I ignore the smirk on the cashier's face as she brings the bears to me. I analyze each of them for a couple of seconds, and finally pick the third one. (They actually look the same.)

She packs it in a brown Hard Rock Cafe paperbag for me. We say goodbye and Simona and I continue to the stadium. 

We stop outside the stadium to finish our drinks.

By now, I know that I'm tipsy because I'm laughing at the smallest things and my face is bright red. But I'm a good tipsy - I'm completely aware of what I'm doing and of my surroundings. 

"You don't have to finish it if you don't want to. Just throw it away," Simona says when I ask her if she wants the rest of my drink. 

"Nah, I paid nearly $10 for this. I should finish it," I say. So I force myself to chug down the rest of my awful strawberry daiquiri, which gives me a 5-second brainfreeze the moment I'm done. 

Maybe because I kicked down the entire thing in less than a minute, the alcohol manifested quickly through my bloodstream. 

We approach the entrance of the stadium and the security guard asks to check our bags. When he points to my Hard Rock Cafe bag and asks what's in there, I'm suddenly overwhelmed with joy at the thought of my new purchase and I open the bag and cheerfully exclaim, "IT'S A BEAR!!" and beam like a giddy 5-year-old.

He nods and lets me through, right after Simona who's laughing at what just happened. And then I accidentally stumble into one of those short metal poles. 

"Are you okay?" she asks me, grinning.

"Yeah, I'm just tipsy, that's all. I need to pee."

"Me too."

So we start hunting for the bathroom. I spot one and walk in, with Simona right behind me. But as I walk in, I notice several guys on the right, fixing their babies' diapers and looking unfazed that they were in the wrong bathroom.

Hmm. This doesn't seem right. 

"Simona, why are there men in the women's bathroom?" I say, walking further into the bathroom, which is empty apart from shiny sinks and... urinals.

Oh no. I think I just became five times more sober.

"I think we're in the wrong bathroom," I say calmly and we both turn around and walk out. 

 Laughing, Simona points to a small icon with a silhoutte of a little boy hanging from the door, which we completely missed when we walked in.

"Here's the women's bathroom," she announces, pointing at a similar icon, but of a little girl.

That can't be, I frown. That's the little girls' bathroom.

I'm glad I didn't say this aloud, because Simona wouldn't have believed that I wasn't drunk. And I can bet you I wasn't. Here I am, trying my hardest to stay sober, despite the wooziness in my head. 

Simona tells me for the umpteenth time that my face is very red. I tell her I'm fine, and we head out to look for our seats.

I don't know if it's me, or if it's the people, but they all seem to be getting in my way today. Like I'll be walking and all of a sudden I have to do a polite little "excuse me" dance with the person in front of me, who's walking in the opposite direction. He can't seem to figure out which way he wants to go. I step to the left but he's stepped to his right, blocking me. And then we both apologize and he steps to the left while I step to my right. We apologize at least three times before we're both on our way.

 

We're half tipsy, but we're happy 

I buy a bag of peanuts before we enter the stadium, and I'm pretty sure the peanuts help. Because about 15 minutes later, I feel the wooziness wearing off. The world isn't moving in slow-mo anymore. The redness in my face has faded to a healthy light pink. 

It's my first NBA game. I'm overwhelmed by the energy in the stadium, emanating from the excited supporters. Grizzlies supporters are screaming and cheering, and I'm one of them. I'm cheering like a maniac. I don't think I've ever screamed this loud, not even at a concert. But here, in this incredibly large stadium, everyone else is screaming like a mad person. Upbeat music pumps through the bombastic speakers. It makes us want to dance.

The music is carefully selected to boost the spirits of the spectators and the players. On the shiny court, the players are lost in their game. The Grizzlies (in red) eventually triumph the Wizards 97-92. It's a close fight but they manage to emerge as winners, despite several fouls and penalties during the game. 

And that's me, joyful that the Grizzlies won.

I have nothing but good memories from that trip. My souvenirs remind me of the fun and crazy moments I gained in Memphis. I think getting tipsy was one of the things I remember most about the trip, because I did and said things I wouldn't have done when sober. I mean, they weren't bad things. Nothing I was ashamed of (except the bathroom thing...)

But watching my first NBA game? That has got to be the highlight of the trip. :) I'd love to catch Jeremy Lin play... if I'm rich enough. I heard tickets go as low as $120 and I don't want to know how high they go.

Apart from that, I had a great time bonding with Simona. Simona and I met in our first semester at UCA. We were both new to the university and after several conversations, realized we had plenty in common. She's a music major and she plays in the orchestra. I've seen one of her performances, and I think she's a wonderful flutist. 

She's one of my favorite people on campus, and I'm glad we got to spend quality time catching up during our trip to Memphis. :)

We both agreed that Memphis was lots of fun.

No regrets!