Always go out on a high

Well, we might just put that weekend behind us eh?

After a hectic Saturday alternately devising plans to encourage former flatmate to evacuate the premises with a minimum of damage and theft of property, I didn't particularly feel like going out. I rang the bedding girl to ensure that we were still up for things, but she was serving a customer or something. I was told she would call back, but I didn't know if she had my number.

I gave it some time and called back, but the shop was closed I guess.

So flatmate arrives home, and after loading numerous boxes into the back of her boyfriends Subaru, putting a dent in the plaster in our stairway, and somehow dismantling the clothesline, I feel even less like going anywhere.

I was glad that I did however, so I walked into the city and after chowing at a Chinese restaurant, I didn't get there til 11.

I was a little afraid to go in because I could hear music playing, but everyone was sitting down to watch like a concert.

I took a program and went outside, there was a girl with long brown hair sitting on the kerb writing in a notebook. She looked up at me with big brown eyes, and I asked her

"Is it safe to go in?"

She looked a little puzzled and replied.

"Yes, you just walk in and pay on the left, there is a girl that will take your money."

"Oh, okay, I was just a bit worried that the stage would be right there, and everyone would see me and I would be interrupting."

"Oh. So you're not an exhibitionist."

She was cute.

"Well,... I wouldn't say that,... It's just that I haven't been here before and I don't want to start throwing my weight around... Alright well thanks."

And I went inside.

Cat Empire weren't playing, but some other jazz ensemble. It was a great little club. The sort of smoky dimly lit place that would be great to see John Lee-Hooker or BB King or any of those. But not smoky.

I cast my eyes around and tried to decipher some familiar faces amongst the packed room. Nothing.

So I went up and sat at the bar and had a couple of drinks. And the brown-haired brown-eyed girl walked by and smiled and put her hand on my back.

And I smiled at her, but somewhat nervously. I still couldn't see the girl from the store.

What do I do now?

After some of the people left during the interval, I had a look around and it was quite obvious that she wasn't there.

I sat back down. A hand was on my leg just above my knee.

"So it wasn't that scarey then?"

"No, it was fine. This is a great little spot you have here."

The brown-eyed girl was apparently the manager of the place. She served behind the bar, but also seemed to know the musicians also, and clapped loudly between songs.

She went off to pick up glasses and busy herself with other duties that you would pertain as a manageress of a nightclub.

This was an unexpected turn, and I was really tired, and somewhat drunk, and just couldn't be bothered trying to compute things. So I fell off my stool and made for the exit. I waved bye and walked home.

Yeah, I know.

In bed by 1.30.

I'll definitely go back there though, it was pretty cool.

No blogging this week, out of town.

On a brighter note, Meatbeaters will be playing in Melbourne in November.