Sunday Jazz

I almost didn’t walk over to the Sands tonight for jazz.
Great band too. The Ron Star Quintet.
Yet I did!

If He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named were there then he could perhaps believe I was stalking him. I don’t want that. I still care for him of course.

I do want to listen to music though.
If only there were more hours in the day. Between writing stream of consciousness crap, attempting to play the piano, checking my fading tan and meds, working on the last portions of Tinfoil Hat Client’s site, grieving, isolating and hanging on the cross there’s not a minute left for serious stalking.

The Sands is not that far, maybe two miles max.
Just that in heels, even small-summer-sandal-short ones it can be trying and the threat of blisters looms large. There’s a reason for the risk though:
Heels make your ass look just a bit higher and of course if you have good legs (my only attractive physical feature) then wearing flats is just plain stupid. I’m feeling pretty horrible about myself lately and anything but attractive, so even the small fix of heeled sandals can make my step a bit lighter.
Oh yeah I also suffer from White Girl Syndrome. No junk in the trunk. No booty. Heels have gotta help.

The music was fabulous last night. The trumpet player was amazing as was the keyboardist. I’ll definitely make a point to see the Ron Star Quintet again.

Afterwards I went to Wingfield Park for an Artown piece by the Platt Brothers. The park is on the way home from the Sands.
Ummm I was not impressed with the show however and left before it was over. The park was full though. Lots of people with their lawn chairs, all ages, colors and economic strata represented. The sun was going down and the clouds were glorious in their shapes and rosy shades of color.

Lemme tell you about Steve or should I say Skeeve.

There’s this guy that I’d met before at one of the Sands Pool Parties, when I was there with TK (oh fuckit I can mention his name. This is my story after all).
Steve is a whack-job of extra-ordinary magnitude.
He hands TK and I his card and it says something along the lines of….. Author. Musician. Psychiatrist and World Traveler.
I shit you not. The guy is a walking ball of dull ego.
On that night he immediately starts to hit on me, while I’m sitting with TK. After we’d all chatted and listened to the band for a while he came to a startling conclusion.
TK was not gay. Duh. He quickly made his exit after that revelation.

So last night I arrive at the Sands, take off my iPod and throw it into my purse, grab something to drink and find a chair over to the side where I could just listen to the music.
After happily enjoying a great sax solo there appears directly in front of me… Steve.
“Where’s TK?” he says.
“I don’t know. He broke up with me.” I reply.
Now that was just fucking dumb on my part and you can see what’s coming right?
Memo to Self: Wear one of my old wedding rings the next time I go out anywhere.

So Steve sits down and starts in blah blah blah and I’m nodding and smiling the smile of a lobotomy patient and thinking the entire time ‘will you PLEASE just shut the fuck up and listen to the music.’
He didn’t though.

I got to hear ‘we have so much in common’ about 20 times, ‘are you hungry we can grab some dinner’ at least 5 times and ‘can I give you money for a drink’.
What the hell?!
Who does that? Can I give you money for a drink?
You freak of nature didn’t your parents teach you any manners?

What is wrong with me that I cannot simply say “you are an amazing example of an obtuse asshole. Now please go away.”
I never want to hurt anyone’s feelings and am a total chicken.

On the plus side I did get a ride to Wingfield Park with the idiot. We traded phone numbers when I left so he can ‘go over my resume’ and give me some tips, him not knowing I screen my calls.
I was happily at home alone before dark and made myself something to eat. Not before I threw away Skeeve’s phone number though.

How can a person go through life with the personality of a cement brick and absolutely no sense of humor, tact, rationale or sense of others? Add to this he’s not only mentally repugnant he is physically unattractive as well.
So I feel better about myself this morning. I can safely say… At least I’m not Steve.

He did bestow upon me food for a blog though.
Hey thanks Steve.

~Miss R

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