typewriter, 49th and Broadway
6:30 - band practice
8:30 - Danny Flanigan and John Byrne playing at the Corner Wine Bar
10:00 - Hotfox playing at the Melody Inn.
And since I'd planned no wiggle room things started to fall apart before they even started.
I didn't leave work until 6:15 and the roads were slick and I've driven like an old lady since I was 12 so I didn't get home until almost 7:00. I tossed some food toward the cat, grabbed my typewriter and some pastries and ran out the door, forgoing changing into something cute.
I drove to practice and juggled the typewriter, baked goods, my camera and a diet Pepsi as I walked toward the house - as Dad would say, this was a classic lazy man's load. I was thinking that I should set something down and come back.
I kept walking.
And the inevitable happened.
The case popped open and the typewriter bounced off of my foot and into the intersection.
I scooped everything back up - thank goodness the pastries survived - and burst through Cara's front door - arms loaded, red faced and full of apologies.
Which shocked the heck out of Cara, since it was not band practice night.
I left the baked goods as a peace offering and went to Plan B - joining up with the Girls Night Out dinner that I thought I couldn't attend. I missed the dinner part, but it was good to join the conversation and laugh and talk about boys and the future.
The party moved to the bar to finish our drinks. I like most music and even if I don't, I appreciate that folks have enough guts to get up and play. I do have a few musical prejudices - I take an immediate dislike to any guitar player wearing a tie-dye shirt. And the duo was was playing to a prerecorded sound track, which is just weird and wrong. I had a headache and furrowed brow by the time I got out of there.
And I was late for seeing Danny and John. I got there just as they were done. Boo.
Since I was 0 - 2 for my plans, I sent a text to a member of the next band before I drove to the venue. Sure enough, they'd canceled their set. I had a slight freak-out when I realized that I was texting with a 19 year-old college freshman. The fact that I'm older than his mom didn't help.
I ended the evening by wandering through yet another grocery store looking for cranberries. I forgot to do my annual stock up. No luck on finding those either.
Boy is my timing off...
1 comment:
Timing's over-rated. Like the man said, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."
Laughed out loud at the vision of you, arms full, bursting into the house where there was no rehearsal.
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