Time Travel (Again)

Ho-hum. Saturday night and all’s well. Just got back from Buckingham’s band’s show, which I almost missed due to an ID which, admittedly, has been expired for five years. Still, this place was like Fort Knox: would have felt worse except for the outraged guy shouting, “I’m 35 years old! I have gray hair!”

Maeve texted me, “Hold on. I has a plan.”

Sure enough, the manager appeared and escorted me in. (I’d been standing around ignominiously in the cold for about twenty minutes, so it really wasn’t that impressive.) Seems he knows Maeve and Charlie from their neighborhood watering hole, so I’ll certainly stop mocking them for spending every night there playing quarters.

After work, my old roommate Mirah and I had pizza and Valpolicello at the spot a block away from the shop. (Maeve couldn’t come because she’s on the Karl Lagerfeld diet and had to have three hard-boiled eggs instead.) Mirah has been very busy avoiding John, the landlady’s son, who is notoriously creepy and ubiquitous besides. Back when I lived with her he was forever dropping by and being insinuating and, on one memorable occasion, suggested we might like to watch scrambled porn together. I seem to run into him whenever I go anywhere, and the worst part is that he always kind of snubs me and says something like, “well, I’m here with some people, so I should really get back to them.”

Also discussed: intimate love. We got coffee and a petit four at the bakery next door. The waitress said my outfit was “really smart-looking” but I think she was in high school. (I was wearing: black boots, black turtleneck, high-waisted tweed skirt, turtle pendant.)

Once at the show a very sinister guy with an Amish beard was staring at us, so both Maeve and I were glad when their roommate Warren showed up from his nearby AA meeting. (He is burly.)


I texted Mirah from the venue, “Maeve got me in. But John is here.”

And, yes, he snubbed me.