stranded at ri ra [14 Jul 2002|04:00pm] I am still a bit hungover, so pardon the anticipated lack of rhyme or reason. This is a good story. Promise. Last night I went to the Mahers as promised, with a six-pack of Guinness. Siobhain and Dennis were there, as well as Siobhain's boyfriend Chris. The two were planning on going out, and we decided to go to Ri Ra (big shock (I think I'm suffering from Irish overload (if there is such a thing, ha!))) Anyway - one of Sean's ex-girlfriends, Melissa, came along with me. When we got there, it was insanely packed. Saturday night, cover band, $5 cover charge. A first for me. We snuck in the side door so we wouldn't have to pay. (Later, I went out to get my cloves and on the way back in, they'd locked the side door. I went to the front and told the guys, "I was just here, but the side door is locked." They let me back in without charging me :).) We got our drinks - from, of course, my Two Favorite Bartenders - and tried to find seats. We couldn't, so we resumed our standing spots by the bar ("Whatever's closest to the booze!"). At one point, this guy came over to order a drink, and in the process brushed up against Melissa. He vehemently apologized - "I am so sorry, for whatever that was!" He said, "I'm not exactly sure what I brushed up against - don't tell me! I'll get red." To which I replied, "You already are!" He covered his face and turned away in exaggerated embarrassment. This brought about the introductions. His name was Bob, which, he said, was just his "stage name. He said he performed on bar tops to get the crowd going. Total bullshit, of course - and for that I immediately liked this guy. We found a table and grabbed it, sans Bob. He kept coming up to us, though - and he sure was making the rounds. He admired my tattoo and did some silly moves emulating a dragonfly - "Is that part of your act" Eventually I made some actual conversation with him. He's from Long Island, here temporarily, here in town making a film with some brothers from Federal Hill. We talked about the biz and life and whatnot, and eventually he went back to making the rounds. When I turned back to the table, Siobhain was giving me The Look. "What's up with Robert?" she asked. I shrugged. It was a great night. I loved hanging out with them, especially, of course, Siobhain. As I wrote in the last entry - yeah, we're very different, but we also connect in many ways. We have similar senses of humor, and she brings out my female side, which has been dormant for how many years? That's another thing. Because as much as a tomboy as I am, as often as I feel I was born into the wrong sex, the women thing has sometimes been working for me lately. And I don't mean the girl thing. I mean the female pheromone thing. It's the not shaving, I tell ya! Back to Bob, as that sort of came up. He was talking to Melissa, and afterwards he came up to us and said, "She really turns on the girl thing, doesn't she?" "How do you mean?" I asked. He proceeded to demonstrate how she got really touchy-feely when talking to him. I laughed. "That's funny; I don't have that at all." "No you don't!" he replied. "You're just yourself." During an Irish drinking song, he pulled me off my seat after a few flirtations and dragged me around in some random dance. At the end he gave me a big hug :). At the end of the band's set, me and Bob went outside for some air. I told him I knew a good spot - on the river. Oh, wait - but before that. As the set was ending, I knew I wanted to get his phone number. I went up to the bar and asked Corky for a pen. As he gave me one and a sheet of receipt paper he said, "Writing again, are you?" Outside with Bob, all I had was the pen and paper. My shoes and cloves were back at the table. These are important details, I promise. So Bob and I sat by the river and talked a bit. Goofed off, had an ice-spitting content, the whole slam. Shortly I said, "We should probably head back." Siobhain had mentioned needing to be back, because she had to work at 6:30. I felt bad running off, so I didn't want to stay out of sight for too long. On the way back, I got his phone number. He said he hoped to hear from me and we parted at the door. He ran off to the Biltmore and I ran into a brightly lit, quickly emptying Ri Ra in the process of being cleaned. They weren't at the table. Neither were my shoes or cigarettes. I looked all around, outside. Their car was gone. "Oh, shit," I thought. I wandered back into Ri Ra. (What was terribly amusing is that I live a 10-minute walk from Ri Ra, but my stuff was in Warwick, which is 20 minutes away and I'm staying in Rockville, which is an hour away.) Colin asked as I approached him, "Coming tomorrow night?" "Of course!" I smiled and told him my "however I have a problem" story. He said, call a cab? I said, they have my money. He said he'd give me the fare, granted I'd pay him back tomorrow. "Oh, thank you, thank you." With his $20 in hand, I took off for the Biltmore. How lucky I am to be a regular, eh! I hopped into a cab. He got me there for $14. I kept laughing at my situation. He joined in on the laughter when I told him. The pheromone thing, I'm telling ya. A regular damsel in distress. While searching outside, some guys in a truck asked me where the party was. In the cab, some other guy in a van motioned for me to come and join him. At first I thought, maybe I know him, but then I knew I didn't so it was pretty weird. Then the cab driver started saying some subtle shit (wow, that was good alliteration.) This is probably not a big deal for most women, especially if you're dressed like one (which I'm not usually, but I happened to have been!). But - I never get that. Ever. And like I said, lately it's been working for me. Now the next step is attracting someone who doesn't just ask me where the party is ;). When I got back, Chris and Dennis were up. Apparently, I'd been at the river with Bob a helluva lot longer than I thought. But they took my cloves and my shoes and my bag, which had been in the car. I still had the paper. I'd given the pen back to Colin. At that point, I wasn't at all tired. It was about 2:30. We all had another drink in the basement, talked, saw 4 a.m., and crashed. I awoke at nine, and no one was up. I got my stuff and drove back to Rockville. I am waiting to go to Ri Ra. It's Sunday night, and I promised Colin I would pay him back. The nights, they just keep getting more interesting. If this keeps up I'm going to have a full social life just in time for me to leave the state. post comment

written at ri ra #2 [14 Jul 2002|10:00pm] "You ran off with my pen last night." "No, I didn't! I gave it to Colin." Man, he's stingy with the black. They haven't started yet. Boo. And so here I sit, wondering if I should edit. *off to edit* "We can't have our regulars stranded. That would be bad for business." "I could have stayed the night. That would have been good for business, no?" "It wouldn't be the first time that's happened!" letting settle the hair of the dog... These 'tenders are good. They work in packs, the best of them. Or at least in pairs. They are teasing me with this music. Sporadically playing talking laughing in between don't you dare! Oh here we go the flow flow makes me think of the meadow I haven't seen fields for so long melody meadow mirth mist not in that order of course but close flow flow I don't know I don't know what this is supposed to evoke I just keep thinking of endless fields of green grass sheep munching away and the sea going swish swish along with it now what good is any of this if I keep quoting Butcher Boy and nothing more? Oy I mean och I need a break a drink. "Writing again?? You've been writing non-stop since last week." There are so many reasons to keep on the pen cap but it's just too restrictive - they try to talk to me I just wish I cared er could... because that's really all it tis - the half and half stares are me relentlessly, go climb a meadow! Please let our lady have mercy oh but she can't! Why not I say? Because that's not her job the disembodied voice says. I wish I was facing the other way I could you know it's not that difficult was that humming? I wonder if it's a Sunday problem - what a miss out considering how kickin' this place is when mediocre cover bands are here but that's just cuz it's Saturday isn't it? I was just going to write hooray for blank pages but they're not blank anymore are they? At least this one isn't this is so inspiring or maybe it's just drunk. What is it about attraction anyway? Sometimes it's pure lust based on the physical, sometimes it's spiritual, and sometimes you just want to know a person's innards, and when it's all three, whoa-ho, look out. Especially if they have a nice smile. So EMPTY good lord it's kinda nice but sometimes one just wants to talk to someone oh my god did I just say that? Oh sure I could talk to C & C but they're busy working though humoring randomly coquettish, mental love-starved (ha-ha) customers is probably clearly stated in their job description, still! Exactly that. Boy this is depressing let's move on melody meadow milk crate? I am too cocky so I will probably not find one tonight. Guinness Is Good For You. Guinness is a strange thing. It has to sit for a long time I wonder why ba-ba-ba-ba no that's not a sheep just me scatting to the meadow music my it's marvelous and forced alliteration is just unfortunate but accidental is nice I don't know if that flowed but I think somehow it did - oh look at me I am on a roll! For anything of worth or importance? Probably not but at least I have finally realized the vital importance of being earnest. I need to see that again, oh Colin, Firth that is, was that some weird connection or just misplaced precognition (presque vu!) yes I rather like to think it is. I love this fucking place I am going to miss it perhaps more than anything even if it is a chain. EVIL. just plain evil! ditto. I'm either fizzling or just in need of a break. brake? ha ha! groan... Blue feet. That's gotta be worth something. Even if they aren't cerulean. I was just going to say quit breathing I mean talking youse bastards but then they started now they've stopped don't tease me! Don't look at me. I am INVISIBLE with a capitol I. You can go away now yeah I mean YOU! Sitting down to pee, is a biological inadequacy. Writing really does take away any extroversion I may have within me, somewhere... and extroversion = social! "The ladies will lead and the gents will follow... a real life sort of thing." Don't call me love unless you mean it, you bastard! and suddenly he's heavy on the black! I guess he knows I cannot get stranded tonight. How they can create such flawless, beautiful music... I wonder how set they are on making good tips? What, i.e., would they do for them?! Hee... I should come here the night before I leave. I can't believe I'm leaving. What then? O, that's the horror of it. But it's also the beauty of it. Not knowing. Scares the shit out of me and yet it's all I want. Man, they should market that shit. I say to myself, no more. "Ready for another one, love?" And that's all's about it! That was neat. Gave away my copy of Twisted Love. Someone noticed! The dude just did a theatrical poem for me. It somehow went along to the music. "I am a McFlynn!" he said, that is the only key to his identity. The rest is a mystery. He ran off with my book leaving my empty in an Irish meadow - a meadow which the thrives on the beauty of not just people but of words... and not always conventional beauty. Whatever is allowed to be free, is whatever is allowed to experience their own perspective on beauty... in whatever form it may take. How inspiring! Quick encounters such as these, durations which continue onward, in different forms. How dare he interrupt my writing! I yelp as he interrupts my writing or perhaps my writing was just interrupted. Quick human interaction when one has no solid base, seems to be that much more significant. But I don't know. I've thought of that tonight. I've been at too many places for nights within the last week. Haven't been home since Tuesday - however many days ago that is - the pen going to the music I want my potato cakes what a sweetie he opened the gate - end In the bathroom I was thinking, why do I want someone to share things with? I've done it on my own all along, haven't I? Then I though, wait, maybe that explains a lot. Because who was there to keep me from going insane? Something to ponder... One of the musicians reminds of me Delaney. Aw, Delaney. What a doll, even if he did only want youth by association. Youth is usually a burden, when interplayed with those older. But not always. "We try to keep is clean around here thank you very much." "Don't you dare talk to me in that Gaelic brogue!" I always feel so protective of people - I don't like that woman harassing my Corky. But being introspective can be fun, too. You just need to learn how to do it gracefully in public. "You charged me for 4 of these, but I think this is 5." "Oh, that's fine, I must have missed one. Very honest, though!" Sometimes the beauty of this music makes me want to cry - as of yet, I haven't quite figured out why. They seem to know that I like to wait for the foam at the end to turn into liquid and then drink it. Otherwise, they're lazy. "If you're gonna get cancer, get it from a natural cigarette, right?" Whistle while you work, Corky ole boy! 6 comments|post comment

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