So, it was a really, really long night. And there were some pretty painful moments. People, I mean – in case we need this reinforced out there… are really not at their finest when they’re drunk, and by the end of the night, just about everyone at this place was pretty smashed. It just wasn’t pretty – the first time I’ve been in such a stereotypical bar situation in a long time.
But there were shining moments. A couple of people came forward and were really, really helpful, full of information and advice – we ended up asking from the stage for a place to stay for the night, and though we got lots of offers, there was only one we felt comfortable following up on.
The host for the night, Chelsea, and her partner, Beau. They were beautiful. Beau looks like the kind of guy who was going to have a rough as razors, beaten, blown voice. But he opened his mouth and butterflies came out. Sweet and lilting, he has an incredible range, and I think both Heather and I fell for him immediately.
Chelsea is the younger of the two, nineteen and hauntingly beautiful in an art-school kind of way. She’s a nymph, or something, with a contagious smile and energetic voice. We go home with them, spend the night on their couches, learn new bathroom rules (can’t flush the toilet more than once every ten minutes), and get licked by their dog.
Heather’s gotten more dog-Love in the past 48 hours than she’s ever received in her Life.
Mariposa is playful, Loving, and Lovely. We sleep with all of our parts carefully tucked under blankets. Any exposed flesh is set upon and explored thoroughly, and we spend the night talking and swapping thoughts and thinkings and “tips for the road” – though… what wisdom we REALLY have to pass along, sometimes I wonder (especially after the nights where we sell NOTHING!!! sigh.)
But last night was really one of the nights where I was reminded what I really Love about what we’re doing. Beau and Chelsea were beautiful, and young, and kind, and happy. And they had a happy dog.
This morning was slow and sleepy and sunny, and everyone’s happy…
Happy until Mari got up and got into the trash.
The housemate, Nat (yes – Nat n Beau), gets up. Our only exposure to him the previous night was a couple of screams from the neighbouring bedroom – the death of his character in Zelda, apparently.
He’s checking for hints on the internet to beat whatever digital nemesis he’s facing (“SHIT! I’m going to have to roll the cup across the gap!!”), and wrestles with the dog, throwing her around, grabbing the tale, and mercilessly causing joy in her Life. Finally she steps away for a breather, only to find the rug she’s standing on being dragged back by her opponent, and she’s wrapped in his embrace again.
Kisses ensue… and then came the moment of horror:
“What you been eatin? What you been eatin?!? Spaghetti?!? Chicken parmesan?!? YEAH!! Gimme some of that!!” – Nat has detected the chicken parmesan on Mari’s tongues… and goes after it. s h u d d e r.
Anywho, we’re home now, and I’m feeling powerful. The cold is mostly done with me, and we played everything crazy fast last night, and we sort of jammed this morning before we left. I got clumsy because I was showing off, but I Love playing fast… yum. I think we’re going to sit back and shoot the shit with Justin, watch movies, and wait for the snow.
