In which I had great big fun yesterday! There was music, there were old friends, there were new friends, and there was vodka!
Since Left Coast Girlie and I are going to see The Taming of the Shrew together next month, sometimes we have to get on IM and congratulate one another on our cleverness. We were doing so last night; I was still at work but not on the clock. It was 103 degrees out but guess who’d worn black? and long sleeves? and didn’t want to walk home in an oven?
Yeah, that’d be me. Me the genius.
I sat at my desk in the A/C and called RB back. Out of the blue (haven’t gigged with him since last December) he’d left a message on my phone yesterday. Turns out there’s a Sapolil gig in September he wants to book me for. Since the other band never called me back, and I still haven’t managed to institute my ‘go to open mics and meet people’ plan for musical world domination, plus I happen to enjoy his company, I was stoked to hear from him. Music!
We chatted for about 40 minutes, and then he said something about “a party for Jimmy the Fox’s 80th birthday tonight” over at Barn Disease. I made noises about being interested in going, even considered walking home to get the truck, and we finally got off the phone. I started to pack up to leave the office, and shot off an IM before logging off:
goblinbox: Okay, I’m going to the brew pub for a drink or three. G’night!
leftcoastgirlie: Have three for me!
“I’m going to the brew pub, for a drink or three,” I told RT, my co-worker, as I was leaving. “LCG told me to have three for her, too.”
“That sounds good,” he said, grinning. “Have three for me too.”
I laughed. “Nine’s too many!” (FAMOUS LAST WORDS.)
“Oh, so you know about nine, do you?”
“I know enough not to do it again!” I laughed as I walked through the lobby.
“Late!” he said as I pushed open the door and stepped outside. “Bye!” I called back.
It was hot out. I walked over to the brew pub. I sat by myself looking like a total dork, texting RT from my iPod and talking on the phone with Baby Girl. She told me about the awesome new convention center, that she and her hubby see shows all the time now, and that there are now near-constant open casting calls…
See? I move away and Fairfield gets all groovy. Stupid town.
Theatre’s been whispering to me lately. It’s been years since I’ve done a show, but people have been saying random things about theatre lately. After I see Shrew, I’ll probably really want to get back on stage. If my work schedule stays the way it is, I’ll audition for the next fun show I hear about. I’m too old and pudgy to play the ingénue any more, but I’m more than ready to play me a wicked old stepmother or two.
I had three drinks and was discussing neediness and exes over IM while getting ready to cash out when RB called to see if I wanted a ride over to the birthday party. “Sure,” I said, shrugging, even though he couldn’t see it over the phone. “Yeah. What the hell. I’m always ready to sing a little!”
He arrived in his giant maroon van and took me to Barnaby’s. I met the guest of honor, 80-year-old Jimmy the Fox from Chicago (or possibly Kansas City), who was wearing an amazing suit and who when I mentioned it went off on a well-rehearsed schtick about suit-wearing black men and the laaaadies.
“This one can sing a little,” RB told Jimmy the Fox, indicating me.
“Oh, oh, okay,” Jimmy said, nodding. “She’ll have to come up,” he said, and walked away.
He sang a bunch of Chigago-style blues, and later played drums. He was really fun, and danced with some of the laaaadies. The guys on the bandstand most of the night were pretty solid, so it wasn’t your usual aurally dangerous open mic.
I sat down next to Emilio, gave the bartender my card, and started on the first of LCG’s three drinks. Then I mingled and talked to Mike and Tony and other musicians I know. RB and I sat for awhile and I heard all about his customer speaker cab company.
Eventually we got on stage. We did three or four songs and got the first people of the night out on the dance floor. (I love that McClinton “Shaky Ground” groove; plus there was a horn player at the party who sat in and blew the solo! Sweet.)
When we were done, RB needed to do a few things with gear so I started – only started! – on the first RT’s three drinks. After THAT was gone I was dropped off at home. THANK GOD.
As I was walking onto the porch my phone rang. It was Josus! I love that guy! I laid in the grass in front of my house at midnight and laughed my face off. Then I went to bed and passed out like the lush I am.
People, I need a handler. Three is fine, five’s okay, but SEVEN IS TOO MANY, YOU STUPID BITCH, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING. When I woke up this morning I felt as if I’d been mummified. Even my dog looked at me funny. I got dressed and put on my glasses and as I was walking through the house G’ma said, “You’re losing weight.”
Naw, that’s just wicked dehydration, I thought. “I hope so!” I said. “I gained twelve pounds last year, damn it.” She chuckled.
I thought about toast. Mmm, toast.
I did not brush my hair this morning (it’s still in ponytails from yesterday, actually) and I’m wearing my glasses, but I did get me some breakfast, and I walked the dog before work.
Points for having my shit together so early in the day! You will give them to me!
Tonight I’m going to Dax’s in Richland with RB for another open mic. He needs to schmooze with some people, and he’s taking me because, he says, he likes to show me off.
“Show me off? Like, ‘O hai, I brought this pudgy Irish chick. But look! She sings good’!”
“Yeah, something like that,” he said. “It’s just fun to drag you around and show you to people.”
I’m a pet vocalist now. W00t!
So: after eight hours on the phone unfucking the convolutions of inside wiring for various DSL customers today, I’ll walk home and brush my teeth and then go to Richland to sit in at another open mic. Going out on two school nights in a row!
This is pretty exciting compared to my evenings of late, which have involved walking home from work and… uh… basically not doing much of anything. Relaxing and rejuvenating, sure, but I’m ready to go out now thx. But just don’t ask me to have one for you! Oh no, not after this morning. Drink your own damn booze!
