June 19, 2005
-
I had an interesting evening last night. I went to this coffee shop in West Linn where they have live music on Saturday nights. It sucked but –And this was the coffee shop I wrote from when my computer was down — I had a pleasant conversation with a young woman who took my seat at the computer long enough for us to get to talking. She ended up turning me onto a good place to listen to music. She was telling me about it and said, “Here, you can just email it to yourself.” She put all her info down at the bottom of the e-mail. When things like that happen I get nervous but then I think how exciting it is to bump into someone I’m probably supposed to meet.
I can’t imagine why, though. She looked like she was in her 20s but she said she was 32. She and her girlfriend (who was the singer) were talking about a place I used to frequent. It was back when I was still dancing some and on Wednesday nights we would all go to the Egyptian Club. One of the dancers was in charge of choosing three dancers to perform each week. The place was a complete dive and I loved it, but the band hated it. The front was a lesbian bar and the back was where they had odd-ball performances (Years before I’d attended some sort of theatre thing back there).
So every Wednesday I would make my way past the pool tables, down the long hall which led to the big green door. There was a $4 cover and whoever was taking money that night would be sitting with the woman doing henna. I’d watch for a bit, sitting up high on the bar stool with the money taker and the hand painter. Everyone knew each other and it was fun to greet people as they came in. So we’d chat while she got my change and then I’d go find Rebecca. The bar was against the back wall. The whole room, ceiling and everything was painted black so no one saw you until you were right up next to them. I really liked the anonymity of it. Above the bar were those lights that look like flickering flames but they’re really just a piece of cloth blowing from the fan.
“Rebecca” made great drinks (lesbian bartender we always gave a huge round of applause to) and at the break the band leader would come talk to me. There was always someone to dance with who remembered me and the music was soooooo good. I’d have a couple Jack and cokes and I think people kind of kept an eye on me because once I started moving around a little, getting ready to go up, they’d come and grab me. If I hadn’t danced in a while I’d make like “I really shouldn’t.” But then they’d press on and up I’d go. God I miss that place.
Who knows, maybe I’ll give this new place a try. Maybe I’ll even e-mail that girl. Nah.
Comments (5)
I think you should, you never know what might be around the corner.
As for the dog, we think it has some doxie, and some chiuahua…every now and again his stick straight up and it shows then.
The evocation of memory, wonderful… I like how you’ve done that, opened out the past in a way that could happen again through a conversation a woman you met was having… coincidences that open up memories and potentially new paths… I like that a lot, and hope you do give the new place a try, indeed I do. And many, many thanks for your incredibly beautiful comments at my site. I think you are one of my best friends here, at Xanga, and I am very grateful for that, Pru. (((hugs))) xo
e-mail her, good and thanks for sharing your experience. I like how you made an experience at the coffee shope
You go out and do the most interesting things. I never go out anywhere anymore.
I love this line: “When things like that happen I get nervous but then I think how exciting it is to bump into someone I’m probably supposed to meet” :0)