Feeling better today. After my teeth-grinding wait for her to finish the term I called Tango Girl to schedule a date, per our earlier conversations, and left a voicemail. That was 48 hours ago. So I am pretty much writing this one off and moving on. She was pretty honest with me about being too busy to date. I can make up my mind later about whether that is really too busy or if it's a euphemism for "not interested", but the result is the same.

So there I was, stag on a Saturday night. Again. Fortunately, Kleveland was playing at Devil's Point. They opened for Hell's Belle's in June and blew me away, so I made it a point to know when they were coming back to town. That was a pretty good show. After awhile I even got up and danced a little and smiled a good, honest, happy smile for a few minutes.

Then things got really interesting. I let two girls share my table, and we got to talking. Then a guy invited them to his place for an afters party as an entirely not-subtle way of hitting on ( or preying on, depending on your pov) the drunk one. So the sober one and I agreed that I would come along to help her chaperone the drunk one, and I ended up sort of crashing a mellow little house party.

I'm . . . older. At least, my age is how I explain the tremendous disparity between what I consider normal behavior and what I see. But I am still left kind of spinning when I see a guy do something so completely beyond the pale trying to hook up with a girl and IT WORKS. I mean, don't girls slap a guy for *anything* any more? So, drunk girl got some action and her friend and I chaperoned enough to ensure that she was consenting and happy, and not simply passed out and unresisting.

So all in all I call Saturday night a success. From the ashes of blown-off-edness, I grew the roses of a Kleveland show, a great conversation on the history of Punk with a New Zealander at the afters party, and making out with drunk girl's japanese girlfriend.