amorpheus

I would like to say that the previous entry had a happy ending. In fact, I would like to say it had an ending. I guess it had a happy middle.

I wandered back to the cafe on Friday night. Again, I had a song on my lips - Sondheim again, naturally - this time "The Worst Pies in London." A little note about my small, girlish voice - it seems worth it that every telephone solicitor calls me "Miss Bernstein" when I play Mrs. Lovett to the audience of whoever's on the sidewalk. I had to stop when I entered the cafe, though, because a band was setting up. Honestly, what can I say about a band that plays twelve-bar blues with a generic throatful singer? They were good. They knew all three chords and even played them in the right order.

I became suddenly nervous when I sat down and Mary Marvel walked over to my table. I remember the ensuing conversation exactly:

I ate in silence, and when I was done, I asked her if she wanted to go out some time. (I learned from experience that you have to say "go out" and probably should use the word "date" in your proposal, so that the other person is aware of your intentions. Otherwise, there's bound to be an ugly scene when you do get together.) I don't often ask people out, because their response is usually, "Fuck off, creep," or if they're feeling particularly charitable, they'll omit "creep." I certainly wasn't prepared for Mary Marvel's response of "Yeah" followed by writing a phone number on a sticky note and giving it to me. I floated back to my apartment, where I fretted about what we could do together.

The next day, I remembered that They Might Be Giants were having a free concert at the South Street Seaport, and after that, there was an SGNY event, either one of which would be a great place to take someone. I immediately called her up and got an answering machine. So I waited an hour and called again, only to get the same answering machine. I tried again a couple of hours after that. She didn't return any of my calls (and still hasn't). I was about to let that ruin my day completely, but then I remembered that I had places to be.

First, there was the concert. They Might Be Giants always put on great shows. I'm at the stage where I recognize people from They Might Be Giants shows, and I want to say hello, but I don't really know their names, just their faces and what t-shirts they wear to concerts. I have names for them, though - like Totally Awesome Old Guy, Girl from the Velvet Teen Concert, Girl Who I Don't Think Owns Any T-Shirts of Her Own - She Just Steals Steffan's Shirts While He Isn't Looking, and Really Hot Girl Who Is Way Too Excited By "Dr. Worm." The show was fantastic, as always, and it put me in a nice enough frame of mind that I could go to the SGNY event and not be a TOTAL drag.

I was the first person there, but Barbarella soon followed. It was a great night. I met new people and I met old people. I danced briefly and enjoyed the spectacle of "The Warriors" as a silent movie. I ended up leaving at around 1:30 because I was getting too tired, which totally sucks. Back in New Jersey, there was a time when I was working nine to five and I was out every Friday until six. Now, months later, I've fallen out of that rhythm and my body is used to being asleep by eleven. I suppose I'll just have to keep pushing the limits of my endurance, but until then, I won't be able to stay to the end of any event without having a nap in the middle. Is having a nap in the middle of a party permissable, by the way, or is that the sort of thing that will get you kicked out of polite society? Also, is it okay to grab another one of the partygoers to act as a teddy bear, or is that too much to hope for?