Well, THAT was amusing.
Jul. 11th, 2008 12:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysobelleSo I met ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snugglyevil at Fado this evening to hear what this Mr. Franks could do. I was rather looking forward to an evening out, and he'd certainly been charming enough when he'd invited me along. I arrived a bit late, though not as late as I think we thought I would be, to find snugglyevil already ensconced at a little table in the bar. The man himself was flitting about in the manner of a laid-back Brit butterfly, slapping the mens' shoulders and charming the women. Me, I was full of ideas for my novel, and bless snugglyevil, she kindly listened to me unspool, but all the while, I was looking at the demographic of the bar, and beginning to get a clearer picture of what was going on.
Directly behindsnugglyevil, two very curvy young ladies in perfect makeup settled themselves behind a table, directly across from the microphone, perched expectantly, cameras at the ready. To the north of us, right up against the rail of the little stage, a mixed party claimed a table-- the very closest chair occupied by a young women of aftermarket parts, shown off-- she made continuously sure-- to perfect advantage. Behind me, up against the drink rail, a trio of summer-frocked, well-tanned young ladies, thoroughly lubricated and ready to sing along. With anything. And so on.
I just had to laugh. It wasn't an audience, it was a harem.
The dinner was enjoyable, except that everything that could go wrong with the food did. No bacon on the bacon burger, something swimming in my soda, and the replacement soda quite thoroughly dead. And oh, the noise. Jesus Christ-- I'm right here. Honest. You can turn it down, and I'll still be able to pick up every chord on the inside of my skull. They'll still be able to hear it five stories up in the garage. Honest. And still,snugglyevil and I managed to have some deliciously snarky conversation. How could we not? Especially when I turned my head to find Ms. Aftermarket's ass directly in my face as she leaned over to talk to someone behind me. Woman. Seriously. No one needs to see that. Put it away.
Somewhere around 10.30, I decided that less is, indeed, more, and assnugglyevil rose to leave, I did, too. Our Billy was finishing up a break between sets, so I touched him on the arm to say goodbye. Had there been more time, I would have told him I enjoyed his set, though I'd encourage him to do more of his own work and fewer covers. I would also have said I'd thoroughly expected some Tom Waits given the timbre of his voice, and of all the songs he could have done, "Jersey Girl" was the most delightful. But alas, there was no time. He took my hand and leaned over to kiss me-- missing, and rather scraping my face with his rough unshavenness. I think I'd turned my head, expecting a more European buss on the cheek. Hm. But I took his hand in return and warned him not to lose his new ring. "We'll always have the ring," he cried, and I agreed-- just like Paris! He said he'd stop by the store to visit, and since I warned him I'm not often there, he said he'd leave a note. And out we went into the warm evening, snugglyevil and I, laughing, shaking our heads, and making small children cry.
Oh, yes, yes-- I do so need to get out more.
snugglyevil at Fado this evening to hear what this Mr. Franks could do. I was rather looking forward to an evening out, and he'd certainly been charming enough when he'd invited me along. I arrived a bit late, though not as late as I think we thought I would be, to find snugglyevil already ensconced at a little table in the bar. The man himself was flitting about in the manner of a laid-back Brit butterfly, slapping the mens' shoulders and charming the women. Me, I was full of ideas for my novel, and bless snugglyevil, she kindly listened to me unspool, but all the while, I was looking at the demographic of the bar, and beginning to get a clearer picture of what was going on. Directly behind
snugglyevil, two very curvy young ladies in perfect makeup settled themselves behind a table, directly across from the microphone, perched expectantly, cameras at the ready. To the north of us, right up against the rail of the little stage, a mixed party claimed a table-- the very closest chair occupied by a young women of aftermarket parts, shown off-- she made continuously sure-- to perfect advantage. Behind me, up against the drink rail, a trio of summer-frocked, well-tanned young ladies, thoroughly lubricated and ready to sing along. With anything. And so on.I just had to laugh. It wasn't an audience, it was a harem.
The dinner was enjoyable, except that everything that could go wrong with the food did. No bacon on the bacon burger, something swimming in my soda, and the replacement soda quite thoroughly dead. And oh, the noise. Jesus Christ-- I'm right here. Honest. You can turn it down, and I'll still be able to pick up every chord on the inside of my skull. They'll still be able to hear it five stories up in the garage. Honest. And still,
snugglyevil and I managed to have some deliciously snarky conversation. How could we not? Especially when I turned my head to find Ms. Aftermarket's ass directly in my face as she leaned over to talk to someone behind me. Woman. Seriously. No one needs to see that. Put it away.Somewhere around 10.30, I decided that less is, indeed, more, and as
snugglyevil rose to leave, I did, too. Our Billy was finishing up a break between sets, so I touched him on the arm to say goodbye. Had there been more time, I would have told him I enjoyed his set, though I'd encourage him to do more of his own work and fewer covers. I would also have said I'd thoroughly expected some Tom Waits given the timbre of his voice, and of all the songs he could have done, "Jersey Girl" was the most delightful. But alas, there was no time. He took my hand and leaned over to kiss me-- missing, and rather scraping my face with his rough unshavenness. I think I'd turned my head, expecting a more European buss on the cheek. Hm. But I took his hand in return and warned him not to lose his new ring. "We'll always have the ring," he cried, and I agreed-- just like Paris! He said he'd stop by the store to visit, and since I warned him I'm not often there, he said he'd leave a note. And out we went into the warm evening, snugglyevil and I, laughing, shaking our heads, and making small children cry.Oh, yes, yes-- I do so need to get out more.
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Date: 2008-07-11 11:47 am (UTC)He paid "Plastic" no real mind though she was close to just going topless to show her ....eerrr... obvious intentions.
Curvy girls....got no greeting from him and played quiet geek fans
Aberzombie/Old Navy Girls... loud and flirtatious and he played them...they bought CDS at the break...they went off to a quiet corner with 2 guys later
I took him as matter of fact and generally sincere. If he catches up with you at the store and asks you to dinner...... GO. I was disappointed he did nothing but requests the first set. Would have liked to hear his stuff as what I heard on MySpace was pretty decent. You and I do not compete for men...I dont think he is expecting you to. Seems friendly.
Oh yeah
My ass is DRAGGING.