Listen woman...you need to get out of my mouth.
Current mood: hungover
Category: Life
So last night I closed down Shoparooni and headed out. Marlee had plans for a quiet evening at home with a friend, and I had plans for a quiet evening out with someone else. It was going to be a excellently quiet Friday night on all fronts. Delightful.
There is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip. While Marlee's evening ended up being exactly what she had hoped for, mine somehow took a left turn and became what is known in the parlance of our times as "a goddamn fucking disaster". Some highlights include a showdown with a skunk, swerving to avoid hitting a deer only to have to swerve back to avoid hitting another one, my date cancelled, and everyone I tried to get to come out and have fun with me either blew me off, stood me up, or just never called me back.
Now, ultimately, other than this hangover I can pretty much shrug the whole thing off. It sucked, but it's not like this was my dying wish last weekend ever. I'll be fine. But one thing that stands head-and-shoulders above all the other shenanigans, one thing that really truly freaked me the hell out...
The research chemist who violated my mouth hole.
I've chugged some Coca-Cola, had an excellent breakfast (thank you Marlee!), and thrown down a fistful of Advil. That has pretty well taken care of the rest of the evening. But this one event really twisted my noodle and it's going to be a minute before I'm recovered. I actually gargled with GIN when I got home, just to make sure there was no errant ickiness still floating around in my talkie-hole. No shit? No shit.
I'm sitting at the end of the bar, and awkwardly trying to start a conversation with a cute girl (Heather, who turned out to be fully rad and most excellent and is going to swing by the shop and possibly make some jewelry for us, right?) and this young lady walks by, looks at me, does a double take*, and immediately plops down in the empty seat to my right.
She introduces herself, and it's clear she's already in the bag. Which is fine. I was heading there myself. She was moderately cute, I guess, although I was still sorta trying to hit on Heather because we had not yet gotten to the part of the conversation where she told me about her ultra-rad boyfriend. So I was vaguely annoyed by the interruption because lets be honest here...I'm in a bar full of better-looking people and I've got zero game. The deck is already stacked against me, and now I've got an obstacle. Oh frabjuous joy, calloo, callay, etc and so forth.
So I try to be polite, and ask the Obstacle what she does and she tells me she's a student and a research chemist for an oil company. Awesome. So I'm trying to dodge a drunk genius who makes enough money to buy me several times over. Color me uncomfortable.
At some point I'm able to ease my way out of the conversation and get back to trying to stutter out a conversation with Heather, who is becoming rapidly amused by the scenario in play. Not only am I still not aware yet that Heather has an ultra-rad boyfriend, I'm also not aware that Heather knows this girl and has watched her in this very state at this very bar on multiple occasions. So she sees where this is all heading, and is trying really hard not to laugh and choke on her drink.
Universe: 1 Steve: 0
The Obstacle suddenly blurts out "How old are you?" When I tell her that I'm 32, she replies with a dejected look and "Well, you've got 10 years on me."
Universe: 2 Steve: -10
At this point, I'm really just waiting for the pre-med boyfriend she keeps mentioning to stroll in, pull me off my barstool, and announce that he's going to fight me. Then I would have to try and talk him out of that because really...who the hell starts a fight at La Cav? That's just silly.
Heather, it should be noted, is beginning to lose her heroic struggle with laughter.
Now the Obstacle begins grabbing her passing roommates and introducing them to me. I have no idea why. It's a little weird. One of them looks at me as though I have a giant open sore where my face should be. The other sidles in next to me and starts asking me very odd questions while trying to get a good grip on me to, I guess, make an attempt at seduction. Parts of my body that I was previously unaware could move on their own suddenly become as fluid and flexible as Riki Tiki Tavi, and I find myself in this weird "Dodge The Roommate's Grope" game that no one seems to notice but me and her. Yikes. Creeptastic.
Since my hopes with Heather have not yet been dashed by Ultra-Rad Boyfriend, I am starting to become very very frustrated by all of this.
And then it happened.
The Obstacle grabs my face, in the same efficient manner that creepy aunts will grab the faces of small children at family gatherings, and then proceeds to try and stage a forced entry of my mouth with her tongue. It was a hostile takeover attempt by Drunken Chemist Tongue Multinational, Inc. to purchase all assets of Unkle Steve's Talkie-Hole, LLC.
This went on long enough for me to look directly at Heather, who was in shock, and throw out what I hoped was a look that read "For the love of all that is decent and good in this world, please hit this girl with a bottle of something and get me the hell out of here!" She did not catch this, and instead turned away to avoid witnessing the carnage. Frankly, I cannot blame her.
I puckered my mouth, and was able to mostly repel the barbarians from the gate. She let go and pulled back and gave me a look that was most likely intended to say "Hey now...whaddya think of that? Let's get outta here, shall we?"
The look on my face could most likely be correctly interpreted as "Oh sweet dead jeezus, a research chemist just raped my mouth."
I turned away, towards the bar, and saw that all of the bartenders had the same look of shock and horror on their faces. At least I wasn't alone in my shame. Well, that's not true. Their mouths had not been soiled. Mine most certainly had.
Shortly after this, one of the Obstacle's roommates grabbed her and dragged her out of the bar. Heather and I went outside to smoke cigarettes, and that's when I found out about Ultra-Rad Boyfriend. Photographer and musician. Yeah...can't compete with that. But Heather is pretty awesome and she makes jewelry. So I'll be seeing her around, and while I did not gain a make-out buddy, I think I gained a new friend. So hell yeah for that.
Not much else to tell. It ended as abruptly as it began and (no pun intended) left me with a bad taste in my mouth and a helluva story.
All things considered, I think I made out OK.
(Again, no pun intended.)
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*Which is weird enough, because I hadn't even gotten to the point in the evening where I stick a bar straw in my nose. Which is the only thing that causes women to do a double-take at me, I assure you. I'm not troll-ugly or anything, but La Cav is generally populated with a lot of people who are WAY the fuck better looking than I am. Like, way. Men who get their hair cut by actual people who cut hair, work out, and have better taste in clothes.
Had a couple of massive gig bummers recently. I hate hearing performers talk shit about this venue or that one, so you won't get any details out of me. And it's not even stuff I'm mad enough about to talk smack, just enough to bum me out.
Bummer 1: I did a show for a venue I've never worked before, as a freebie. They rubbed my back a little, I rubbed their back a little. No big deal, I figured it would be fun. They botched my introduction by handing the mic to someone who didn't know my last name, or what I was doing. The stage manager waited until I had been "announced" to strike the stuff from the last act, so they announced me and then this woman scuttled out to strike stuff while I just stood there wondering if I should go out or not. I get out there, and begin my usual process of making the audience wonder what the hell is about to happen, and then they started my music early. Really, it was the worst possible way for me to start off a routine. I pulled it off OK, but nowhere near my usual standards and putting on a show that is less than stellar is a huge bummer for me.
Bummer 2: A few weeks ago I get a call for a gig out-of-state. I've worked for them before...the pay is pretty low, but it sounded like a good time and my schedule was mostly clear when they wanted me. Was in the process of lining up a weekender that would have conflicted, but they seemed willing to work around it. Cool deal. Big money gig, and something else to fill the time around it. I ask them what they're paying, and they say they'll get back to me.
This other gig is hanging while I wait for them. For a week and a half. Finally hear back, and they say "It'll be a couple of days, we'll let you know."
Not asking if I got it. Just trying to find out how much it's paying this time around so that I can say "yea" or "nay". No word. Couple more days, no word. Finally hear back and this is what I get:
"We'd like you to submit a bid."
C'mon. You jerk me around for two weeks and then tell me you want a bid? So I bid really high. High enough that if they said "yes" I wouldn't mind the pain-in-the-assery, and high enough that they would probably say "no" and save me some pain-in-the-assery.
E-mailed them the bid and got an "Out Of Office" auto-reply. Weak and lame. Still haven't heard anything, and not too worried about it. I'm assuming it's a no-go.
Still got the high-ticket weekender though. And it might mean getting out of town for a long weekend with Marlee, which would be nice. I'm always up for a working vacation. :)
Guy Wright x Boston Globe
Current mood: pleased
Category: Life
The Boston Globe just posted a really well done article on local yo-yo player Guy Wright.
He's a pretty excellent human being, and an absolute beast of a player. For some unholy reason, they contacted me for the article. Guess I'm always good at shooting off my mouth for a good quote. No clue where they got THAT idea.
Heh.
Check out the article and accompanying video here.
Congrats on the press, Guy! You deserve every accolade the world can throw at you.
And if you don't believe me, check out this video of Guy just absolutely tearing it up.
The screening and release party for the new DVD by Iowa's Save Deth!
Five yo-yos players on spring break teach us all valuable lessons about things to do with wheelchairs, covering your nuts, how to pee in a spacesuit, and occasionally throw a yo-yo trick or two.
DVDs will be available for sale, with Seth & Dave in attendance! They'll sign your DVD, give you a free sticker, and possibly smack you in the nuts.
Another ridiculous event brought to you by the lazy-eyed psychos at Shoparooni!
Jason Bean, the singer for this band (band page is first, and his personal page is second), has been dodging child support for his three children for the past 12 years.
One of those kids is my stepson, Zane.
Jason just got tossed in jail recently for failure to pay child support. The mother of the 2nd of his three children (yep, three different mothers) felt bad for him being in jail, and dropped the charges.
He immediately left town to go on tour.
This is precisely the kind of human garbage that makes life hard for everyone. When people don't pull their weight and support their kids, everyone else has to take up their slack. I love Zane, and I consider raising him to be an honor. But that doesn't excuse his birth father from the responsibility.
Feel free to drop Jason Bean a line and let him know what you think of someone who only called his 12-year old son ONCE last year. Not on his birthday, not at Christmas....but on Father's Day.
Or, if you happen to live in Austin and bump into the guy....feel free to give him an earful.
I want to make sure that he never, for a second, thinks he has gotten away with this behavior.
Shoparooni has a new neighbor opening up tomorrow!! Hot girls selling vintage stuff!
(Seriously...I'm going to blow so much money there. You go for the stuff, and just end up drooling over the girls, and next thing you know you're running to the ATM for another hundy to get a lamp that you have no reason buying.)
Stop in and check them out on your way to the Cinco de Mustache party!
Hosted By: Angela Sigler When: Friday May 02, 2008 at 6:00 PM Where: ReVamped Boutique & Gallery 16008 Waterloo Road Cleveland, OH 44110 United States Description: Angela Sigler
hungover
content
contemplative
excited
pleased
enraged
