because you only have one life to live

Ok. I haven't written in awhile. I know. It has been a looooooong weekend. We will start with the story of the guy at the bar-pre Harvey Danger concert at Bell House. I had just taken the subway from Church Ave and St. Paul. In my particular car there was a guy with one of those Dewalt boomboxes and he was playing Michael Jackson. I almost didn't get off at my stop because I didn't want to miss out on Don't Stop Till You Get Enough. I danced around the back of that car with a group of rather intimidating looking Thugs, a couple of under five year olds, and a very old asian woman. It was fantastic.

And then I walked. I had a general sense of where I might be going. And eventually I found The Bell House. Although this part of Brooklyn was decidedly more industrial than where I had been rehearsing at John and Gabriella's, I felt much more at ease. It was like being in parts of GJ. John and Gabriella's house is in a very distinct neighborhood. After the first day of rehearsals, I walked out of their apartment at around eleven pm to be greeted by a yound man with a bottle of bourbon in his hand.....

he was very specific in his solicitations. And he kept calling me Mary. Although I was pretty sure he had a gun, I was very annoyed with being called Mary and corrected him about five times before turning around with the words "Dude, I have a BOY friend". I left the apartment building with the echoes of "How about a MAN friend baby-girl?". Ugh.

So let's go back to Saturday after my subway dance party. I got to The Bell House super early and thought I would find a little bar to do some work on the old computer before the show. I found one. Worked a bit. And then went outside for my one cigarette of the day...

A man came out and asked for a light. I let him use my lighter (a little blue number lisa made me before I moved to Seattle which I am surprised still works after all this time). We talked about the weather. Seattle. New York. Rain. His work on the gang unit for NYPD. I went into my having come here for the show with Poliglot and how different this part of Brooklyn was from where I had been rehearsing.

"Where have you been rehearsing?" He asked.

I thought for a moment. "Church Ave and St. Paul."

He blinked at me. "A lot of shootings down there. I know that place well. I wouldn't be caught dead in that area without a gun."

I blinked at him. "ok. I felt like I should have had my knife or something."

"oh honey", he said, "don't bring a knife to a gun fight."

Noted. Good advice.

And then he launched right into it. "I buried my nephew yesterday. He was like my fucking son. I buried my son yesterday". More later. I am getting kicked out of Time Cafe. Which apparently closes NOW.