Listening to: Open The Door To Your Heart by Darrell Banks

get it here: http://www.melingo.com/thesoulnet/banks.htm

So...I slept today. I deserved it. i feel like this passt week has been very busy and I capped it with a very rewarding night. Yesterday morning i recorded that voiceover and then had a 4 o'clock meeting about LA. It was more of the same."You'll be working your ass off, blah blah, blah." I fly out on the 22nd. Don't worry true believers, the computer will come with me. After the meeting I went to this place called the Bourgeois Pig on 7th Street between 1st and A. Very small very intimate.



Also, their bottles of wine are half price at happy hour. Which means you can get very drunk for very cheap. Always a big plus with me. Why was I there, you ask? I had a date. How did it go, you ask? Well....
No -that's my answer. Well.
I would consider anything that wasn't completely a bomb as something that went well. It was nice, we had a nice chat, talked about many comon interests. We left and said "we should do do this again sometime." I don't know. If somebody ocupies that middle ground between spectacular and comple wreck on a date do you pursue it? I'll have to think about it more.
After that I had managed to wrangle my friend Sarah into going to the Hem concert at the Allen Room with me. Holy Shit! The Allen room is one of the most beautiful places in NYC. The backdrop of the stage is this two-story high all window arrangment that looks over Columbus circle and Central Park from six-stories up. You could see all the way down 59th street.



Hem was excellent. I still have a major crush on the lead singer. And the xylophonist. Like - the crush on the lead singer is more like sexy lady crush while the crush on the xylophonist is more like mousy librarian quiet girl crush. However, were the two to appoach me in a group setting, I don't thing I would decline the invitation.

After the show Sarah and I went to Planet Thai and may or may not have had too much Hibachi, Sushi, Miso Soup, Calamari, and Steamed Mussels. We finish, start walking home to burn off that FULL FULL FULL feeling and I get a message that Drew and Nick are at Spike Hill. We stop in, I have a bourbon and RX chit-chat, head home, try to IM my friend, get no response, and pass out around 1 am. I am still tired. But more rested than before.

Now, why do I relate this string of seemingly inconsequential occurrences? Because it was a nice fucking day. Nothing went wrong, nothing was spectacular. It was just a pleasant way to end a week of otherwise severe busyness.
Actually, I stopped into some ubiquitous no-name bar on Avenue A for a quick pint of Guiness on my way up to Lincoln Center and I saw this relatively harmless 40-something year old guy chatting with some relatively harmless 20-something year old bartender and all I could think was 'rookie.' They were talking about cats. How they're "perfect city pets." I feel like all people want to talk about these days are cats. I downed my Guiness, barreled out the door and realized that I was the "mysterious one drink guy."
Now, the one-drink-guy (or gal - no gender biases here thankyouverymuch) is that romantic, enigmatic, figure that many of us run into at bars on a weekly basis. We might not see them, and the reason for their one drink may be of little import. But there's always a quality of mystery about them. It operates for one major reason - who stops into a bar for one drink by themselves? Honestly? Who does it? Think about it. Drunks stay. People meeting friends with other plans who stop in for one drink always seem lame or whipped. But the one drink folks? Always strange and anomalous. I had an older black guy stop into a bar I was working on the lower east side one night. He comes in. The bar's empty. I say the usual "HowyadoinwhatcanIgetforyou?" He says "Not well. Double Jack neat." I pour his drink, take the payment, turn around with his change. Front door closes, empty shot glass on the bar. Now my Guiness wasn't that dramatic,. but what was up with that guy? Some fucked up shit I tell you. Anyway - just something you should know. Maybe I will begin another blog caled "overheard at the bar." Heh. That'd be funny. One of my favorite quotes from the SoSo House? Mid-thirty husband hunting woman at the bar "Yeah - he seems great. But how big is his boat?" Cue long shallow laughter. Sigh.