August 18, 2006 12:05 AM
I'm writing this in pen because apparently I lost all my lead somewhere in my bag. Not that it matters much. I lost my erasure a week ago anyway.
The open mic went well. Everyone played cover songs for the most part. The only exception was this one guy who ended his session with an awesone original track. He was in his mid-fifties and looked like an Environmental Science professor but was the only person who played with pure passion and abandon. I guess it helped that he played a lot of Dylan.
The only other person of note was the host. Another in the mid-fifties range. He was mostly hit or miss but that was primarily due to which song he chose. His Chuck Berry rocked and his Skynard dragged. All in all it was fun, a nice change.
I'm back at Kipling's Pub. Coffee this time but if I feel a little frisky I may get a Guiness. Who knows... it's early.
1:05 AM
I'll never understand what it is about this town and women who are in relationships. The entire time I lived here I only dated one girl who didn't have a boyfriend already.
At the pub I met a nice, albeit slightly drunk, woman named Liz who early in our conversation announced that she was getting married within the month. And yet, soon after, let me know in no uncertain terms that I would be welcome going home with her. She was nice and attractive despite being 37 years old. (I actually thought I was older than her at first) And this is the part I don't get: as nice as she was, she was still willing to have a tumble behind her boyfriends back. I couldn't even think of cheating on Brandy no matter how beautiful or intellectual someone is. If I did, I wouldn't have married her. All I could think during her flirtations was, "poor guy". If she's already thinking of cheating after a 30 minute conversation and a few stupid bar video games she shouldn't even consider marrying someone. Needless to say, I left before she got the wrong impression. It's too bad. She was a cool person to talk to. A good mix from the usual Brattleboro suspects.
I'm writing this in pen because apparently I lost all my lead somewhere in my bag. Not that it matters much. I lost my erasure a week ago anyway.
The open mic went well. Everyone played cover songs for the most part. The only exception was this one guy who ended his session with an awesone original track. He was in his mid-fifties and looked like an Environmental Science professor but was the only person who played with pure passion and abandon. I guess it helped that he played a lot of Dylan.
The only other person of note was the host. Another in the mid-fifties range. He was mostly hit or miss but that was primarily due to which song he chose. His Chuck Berry rocked and his Skynard dragged. All in all it was fun, a nice change.
I'm back at Kipling's Pub. Coffee this time but if I feel a little frisky I may get a Guiness. Who knows... it's early.
1:05 AM
I'll never understand what it is about this town and women who are in relationships. The entire time I lived here I only dated one girl who didn't have a boyfriend already.
At the pub I met a nice, albeit slightly drunk, woman named Liz who early in our conversation announced that she was getting married within the month. And yet, soon after, let me know in no uncertain terms that I would be welcome going home with her. She was nice and attractive despite being 37 years old. (I actually thought I was older than her at first) And this is the part I don't get: as nice as she was, she was still willing to have a tumble behind her boyfriends back. I couldn't even think of cheating on Brandy no matter how beautiful or intellectual someone is. If I did, I wouldn't have married her. All I could think during her flirtations was, "poor guy". If she's already thinking of cheating after a 30 minute conversation and a few stupid bar video games she shouldn't even consider marrying someone. Needless to say, I left before she got the wrong impression. It's too bad. She was a cool person to talk to. A good mix from the usual Brattleboro suspects.
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