Thursday, November 13, 2008

An Odd Encounter in Concrete and Heels

So the other night we were at a swanky coffee and wine bar where they were playing some live music. After having a glass or two of house Merlot, I excused myself to go to the ladies. To get there I had to wander through a cold concrete maze, following vague signs and arrows, similar to what you would see in a parking garage, usually in a scary movie. What made it bearable was that I passed several colorful people in glam gold spandex and platform shoes. Once I finally found my destination, I walked in to find that there was one other person in the restroom and she was at the mirror applying make-up.

Earlier in the evening I had noticed her. She seemed to know a lot of people in the crowded coffee house, and was constantly getting up and sitting down and hugging people, then kissing them - all European-like. I have to admit that I was a little annoyed since the room was so crowded that there was only an inch and a half space between us, and I was looking at the back of her head. I was sitting on a plush red church pew which was hard to scoot around on, and each time she got up and sat down, I had to scoot around to see the bands. She was very pretty, at least, and I envied her gorgeous, thick hair. Plus she was very at home in her skin. There's something really nice about that.

Anyway, I walked in and she was at the mirror, applying make-up and singing. I tried not to smile, as I found it amusing that she was singing to herself and I caught her. But then I remembered what I was there to do, and now it was quiet in that cold, concrete, now silent bathroom. I was acutely aware of the sound my sassy stilettos made as I walked into a stall - click clack clack clack - and closed the door, the sound echoing back and forth off of the walls. I unbuttoned, sat down and then waited.

Awkward silence.

For far too long.

Years maybe.

No noise, whatsoever.

And then she started singing again. And that's all it took. I took care of business and shyly came out of the stall to wash my hands. I was all prepared to wet my hands, grab a towel, and jet without looking up, because seriously, how embarrassing! Then she spoke to me.

"What color should I go with?"

"Huh?" I said.

"I'm really tired. What color of eyeshadow would help me look less tired: green, copper, or sparkly?"

"I'd go copper with what you're wearing," I said realizing that I- the least girliest girl in the world when it comes to wearing make up - was dishing out advice like Elizabeth Arden.

"Thanks" she said.

"Are you playing next?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm just trying to look presentable which is really hard right now since I am so tired."

"What time are you going on?"

"Nine-thirty."

"I wish I could hear you play, but we only have the babysitter until 10, and we live a ways away from here." In my brain, as I said this sentence, I couldn't believe I was still talking. Maybe I should tell her that my baby is five months old and that it's my husband's birthday, and that I had a c-section, and my favorite month is October. Lamely I asked, "Do you have a Myspace or anything so that we can catch you at another event?" What? Shut up! I swear I'm not hitting on you, I thought, and I am also not a computer geek...no wait...

"Yeah, she said. Grab a sticker with our web information. Our band is called Inner Frequency."

"OK. Thanks."

And I left- click clack clack clack- feeling a little bit strange and a little bit cool, too.

5 comments:

tara said...

Any woman who devotes an entire blog on Myspace to how excited she is about opening for Eddie Money is tops in my book.

This was a good story, and one I can relate to, as I myself am very pee proud too.

Christine said...

This post from the girl who said a mere five hours ago, "I have nothing to say..." You're such a kick-ass writer! (And a liar, apparently, but I mean that in the best way possible.)

tara said...

ooh! I have been granted the power to give you a blog award. Stop by my blog and pick it up!

Amy said...

Your story had me laughing. Go and read my blog when you get a chance. I did something kind of like you in a way. What a funny day I am having.

maria said...

Ah, yes, bladder modesty. I am the same way. And it is sooo embarrassing!!

Thursday, November 13, 2008

An Odd Encounter in Concrete and Heels

So the other night we were at a swanky coffee and wine bar where they were playing some live music. After having a glass or two of house Merlot, I excused myself to go to the ladies. To get there I had to wander through a cold concrete maze, following vague signs and arrows, similar to what you would see in a parking garage, usually in a scary movie. What made it bearable was that I passed several colorful people in glam gold spandex and platform shoes. Once I finally found my destination, I walked in to find that there was one other person in the restroom and she was at the mirror applying make-up.

Earlier in the evening I had noticed her. She seemed to know a lot of people in the crowded coffee house, and was constantly getting up and sitting down and hugging people, then kissing them - all European-like. I have to admit that I was a little annoyed since the room was so crowded that there was only an inch and a half space between us, and I was looking at the back of her head. I was sitting on a plush red church pew which was hard to scoot around on, and each time she got up and sat down, I had to scoot around to see the bands. She was very pretty, at least, and I envied her gorgeous, thick hair. Plus she was very at home in her skin. There's something really nice about that.

Anyway, I walked in and she was at the mirror, applying make-up and singing. I tried not to smile, as I found it amusing that she was singing to herself and I caught her. But then I remembered what I was there to do, and now it was quiet in that cold, concrete, now silent bathroom. I was acutely aware of the sound my sassy stilettos made as I walked into a stall - click clack clack clack - and closed the door, the sound echoing back and forth off of the walls. I unbuttoned, sat down and then waited.

Awkward silence.

For far too long.

Years maybe.

No noise, whatsoever.

And then she started singing again. And that's all it took. I took care of business and shyly came out of the stall to wash my hands. I was all prepared to wet my hands, grab a towel, and jet without looking up, because seriously, how embarrassing! Then she spoke to me.

"What color should I go with?"

"Huh?" I said.

"I'm really tired. What color of eyeshadow would help me look less tired: green, copper, or sparkly?"

"I'd go copper with what you're wearing," I said realizing that I- the least girliest girl in the world when it comes to wearing make up - was dishing out advice like Elizabeth Arden.

"Thanks" she said.

"Are you playing next?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm just trying to look presentable which is really hard right now since I am so tired."

"What time are you going on?"

"Nine-thirty."

"I wish I could hear you play, but we only have the babysitter until 10, and we live a ways away from here." In my brain, as I said this sentence, I couldn't believe I was still talking. Maybe I should tell her that my baby is five months old and that it's my husband's birthday, and that I had a c-section, and my favorite month is October. Lamely I asked, "Do you have a Myspace or anything so that we can catch you at another event?" What? Shut up! I swear I'm not hitting on you, I thought, and I am also not a computer geek...no wait...

"Yeah, she said. Grab a sticker with our web information. Our band is called Inner Frequency."

"OK. Thanks."

And I left- click clack clack clack- feeling a little bit strange and a little bit cool, too.

5 comments:

tara said...

Any woman who devotes an entire blog on Myspace to how excited she is about opening for Eddie Money is tops in my book.

This was a good story, and one I can relate to, as I myself am very pee proud too.

Christine said...

This post from the girl who said a mere five hours ago, "I have nothing to say..." You're such a kick-ass writer! (And a liar, apparently, but I mean that in the best way possible.)

tara said...

ooh! I have been granted the power to give you a blog award. Stop by my blog and pick it up!

Amy said...

Your story had me laughing. Go and read my blog when you get a chance. I did something kind of like you in a way. What a funny day I am having.

maria said...

Ah, yes, bladder modesty. I am the same way. And it is sooo embarrassing!!