My, my, my. When it rains, it pours. Fortunately I love a rainy spell because, metaphorically speaking, it's been a deluge. Every time I've turned around for the past week, I've been met with another unexpected and exciting situation or possibility. I still haven't ruled out the possibility of my head exploding.
The evening began in the shade of the sound booth at Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden. The bulk of the audience was sitting in the blazing sun and I spread my pink blanket in a shaded oasis with built-in conversational partners, the sound guys. How do I get so lucky?
Sahara Smith was up first with her ethereal voice and only a fellow guitarist accompanying her. All kinds of love and heartbreak songs followed. Her comment, "I wrote this song because I was broke on Valentine's Day. But I think I would have written it anyway," about summed up her attitude about romance. I will always enjoy listening to a fellow hopeless romantic.
Mason Jennings followed with a lively and often amusing set and then the man of the evening graced us with his presence. Josh Ritter played Groovin' in the Garden last year (I'll keep your dirty little secret about that, Andrew) and immediately acknowledged it by saying, "Last time we were here, it rained like hell. Thanks for coming back." As if there was any question?
I love his latest CD So Runs the World Away (although, for an album title, he'll never top The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter), so I couldn't have been more thrilled when his second song was "Change of Time." The song is pure poetry to someone like me.
I had a dream last night
And when I opened my eyes
Your shoulder blade, your spine
Were shorelines in the moonlight
New worlds for the weary
New lands for the living
I could make it if I tried
I closed my eyes, I kept on swimming
Sigh. He followed that with "Rumors" and then "Folk Blood Bath" and the tone was set for the evening. I was in a great place when I gathered up my pink blanket to pick up my "date" and head to Carytown.
When we arrived at New York Deli for the GayRVA first birthday party, it was in full swing. The theme was Hello Cupcake! and while there were plenty of people we wanted to say hello to, there were a few we wanted just as much to avoid. My friend is funny; she's not quite as outgoing as I am, but everyone knows her, so we eventually had to escape to the patio, where I got to see the handsome Elliott in his briefs ("What are you looking at first?" he challenged me. "What do you think?" I countered).
We said hi to the girls we know in Cherry Bomb, I gave another friend every delicious detail of the Josh Ritter show he'd missed and I ran into a restaurant owner who once employed one of my exes. There was no shortage of people to talk to as we wedged ourselves through the crowd.
One Maker's Mark and ginger and one Tres Generations later, it was time to change locations, so we crossed the street to Bonvenu where the dinner crowd was down to just a couple of tables and the bar staff seemed happy to see us. Vino Verde was poured so that the discussion could begin.
My friend summed it up perfectly. "How is it we don't see each other for only four days and we've both got big stuff to share?" If I knew the answer to that, I'd also know why strangers propose to me on the street or why guys unfriend me on Facebook when I won't date them (that'll show her!). It's a mad, mad world, I'm afraid.
One of the servers at Bonvenu was celebrating her birthday, although it was the anniversary of her breasts and not her birth. Seems she feels that "the girls" deserve a day of their own to commemorate the day they arrived on her body. She refers to one as Marilyn and the other as Monroe, and has a specific drink she makes to celebrate: champagne and grenadine, sort of a grown-up Shirley Temple, which she refers to as a Mingles Monroe. She insisted we "mingle" with her and who were we to argue? Pink drinking? We're in.
But eventually even they had to close and we moved to an undisclosed location to further the evening with a bottle of Sancerre and a discussion of how to wow a guy with a mix tape, what to wear on an unofficial first date and the best way to respond to an encouraging text from an appealing source.
If it hadn't already been almost 2 a.m., we might have gone on and solved everyone else's problems too. As it was, we decided that it may be time for some historical conquests of our own.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Historical Conquesting at Groovin' and GayRVA
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You sure as hell better share those verboten subjects with your "oldest and dearest friend"!
ReplyDeleteAs a side note, it cracks me up that you are now officially a night person. Who would have thunk it!
I'll just have to dream and pretend I was there.
ReplyDeleteAnon:
ReplyDeleteOh, becoming a night person was just one of countless changes brought on by spending five days in Intensive Care with pneumonia last year.
It's mind-boggling how many habits of a lifetime changed for me after that.
Who would have thunk it indeed.
Jonathan:
Dream away. I do.