It was getting late on a Friday night, and a woman I was with wanted to get something to eat. As we passed by Domino's, she insisted we stop. They were closed, except for deliveries. "Don't you have a party to go to?" she asked. "We can get food there." Well, I had a "black and red" party the next night, but nothing the night we were out.I suggested that we follow the pizza guy -- he'd surely be going to a party -- and she was game, so we tailed the red and blue.

Pizza Guy's first stop was a bust -- no party. At his second delivery, an apartment complex, he appeared lost. He circled one of the buildings several times before getting on his cell phone. He tore out of there, and we almost lost him. My date was paranoid that he'd notice us following him and ducked beneath the dashboard. I told her that if she was really hungry, I'd accidentally dropped some M&Ms down there a few days earlier.

We were trying to hang back far enough so the driver wouldn't notice us, and he temporarily got away. When we spotted him again, it appeared as if he may have also spotted us. He got out of his car holding pizzas in a warming bag, looked at my car, and pulled out his cell phone. For fear he was calling the cops, I took off. I didn't want to be the one looking in my rearview mirror, followed by flashing red and blue.

The next day, it was red and black. Connie was turning 30 and would be celebrating at the Bonita Golf Club. Her party theme was black and red.

When I was in a store buying my stepdad a card, I saw a red and black birthday card with a funny message and bought it for her. It felt weird buying a birthday card for someone I'd never met.

I wore an old black and red SDSU jersey I had and a Rolling Stones belt with the red lip logo as a buckle. I put on a necklace of red and black beads. I thought I would have more red and black than anyone there. I had no idea, however, how underdressed I'd be.

Connie was wearing a long white dress. She looked as if it were her wedding day. I wondered why there was no red or black on her. As I glanced around the hall, I saw guys in black tuxedos and suits with red ties.

A few women wore red high heels or red dresses.

When Connie pointed out Mario Lopez who helped her put the party together, I asked, "The actor from Chula Vista?" "No," she laughed. "Everyone always asks him that and his response is, 'I'm the original Mario Lopez.'"

There were two DJs setting up. One was named "All Kutz"; the other, "DJ Rue." A real radio DJ showed up -- Xavier (the "X Man") from 92.5 FM.

When the music started, the dance floor filled up. One Latina lady asked me why I wasn't dancing. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but I'm Caucasian. When we get on the dance floor, it's never pretty." She said, "I know someone who's white who dances real well." "He's gay, isn't he?" I joked. She thought about it a second and said, "Actually, you're right. I think he is."

I saw a photographer there taking pictures of everyone and realized that I'd left my camera in the car. When I went out to get it, I noticed lowriders in the parking lot and several cars with flashy rims. I saw a guy wearing a red cap backwards and smoking a cigarette. Another guy who was walking in wore a red fedora and a fancy suit. He looked a little like a pimp.

When I heard another car drive by with loud music, I thought about gangs shooting each other for wearing the wrong colors. But this crowd didn't appear to be gangbangers. If someone had asked me who I claimed, I'd say, "I'm down with the Aztecs, homie."

It wasn't until I walked back in that I noticed they had a red carpet, velvet ropes, and were taking photos at the door. It was as if we were arriving at the Oscars.

Someone introduced himself, and as we were shaking hands, I was relieved he didn't do one of those fancy handshakes that always catch me off guard. And since my high school basketball days are long gone, I probably wouldn't remember how that shake goes (you know the one, where it ends with your fingertips locking with theirs).

There was a guy named Nathan at the party who I was told was an editor for Lowrider Magazine. I would have liked to talk with him, but he constantly had a crowd around him.

While I admired the classy table settings, colored napkins on white linen cloths, I asked Connie how much she threw down for all of it. "It was probably around $7,000. We had to rent the hall and a lot of other things."

There were several families there, and while I was taking a picture of two kids running around, a guy who appeared to be in his early 20s said, "Be ready with your camera, man. When the coat comes off and the lights go down, I'll start dancing."

When people kept stopping Connie for photos, it reminded me of Jennifer Lopez being chased down by paparazzi. There were a handful of women at this party who looked like Lopez, but they enjoyed the attention of the photographers. I overheard one woman say to her friend, "I'm glad they've taken a bunch of photos of me. At least I know I didn't get dressed for nothing."

Crash your party? Call 619-235-3000 x421 and leave an invitation for Josh Board.

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