I woke up late yesterday morning after a mostly sleepless night. What else was there to do except stop in a local bar for an early coffee drink? I wandered off to meet my friend Tony whom I knew would be behind the bar at Vesuvio at that fine hour. It proved to be a truly delightful morning full of witty conversation and other forms of verbal manure. He's only there on the morning shift Sundays, Mondays, and Tuesdays... so I cherish my precious time with his protective bartenderly ways when I can get them.
A few coffee drinks later, I was off to run a morning's and early afternoon's worth of errands. Hmmmmm... lunch. I did have the foresight to drop off my recently laundered dry cleaning, newly re-heeled shoes, and other sundries at my shoebox of a domicile before finding my darling friend Renee at the U.S. Restaurant for lunch. She always takes such good care of me.
I had agreed to tutor her daughter in whichever 8th grade-level topic she would need each week, and she had also procured a book on the subject matter covered in Catholic high school entrance exams. It's so odd sometimes how standardized tests of all grade levels tend to still be built in all the same way. At least the COOP seems to test whether a student can think rather than just memorize facts and algorithms.
As if I hadn't had enough coffee at lunch, I soon found myself sitting at the counter at MELT! sipping on yet another tasty, caffeinated beverage and brandishing my shiny, new tambourine. After the initial "Anyone know any Carpenters' songs?" teasing, the typical and quite local (if not at least newly so) collection of regulars calmed down around my weapon of mass percussion. Oh, wait, maybe that was a different time I was in MELT!. Maybe this time at MELT! was nothing for me but a long afternoon of disturbing phone calls mixed with an attempt to plan my birthday travel. Either way, the first story is better.
Regardless, I was soon off to buy a brand spanking new dress at Annabella's (if I spelled that correctly... "Annebella's" maybe?), sit in the park for a moment, and then head off to tutor the youth of America... well, okay, one youth of America. She is such an intelligent young lady, a quick learner, and joy to converse with. She is going to get a merit-based scholarship to Catholic high school. I can feel it.
Dinner. What was dinner? I believe I snacked at home before running off to Mr. 'Hopper's open mic at Ireland's 32 in the Inner Richmond. Sigh... what a beautiful night. I fear my friend Ruce may have blushed when I pecked him on the cheek, but that is hardly anything that should distress me. The music there is just as high strung as it is casual, and I am fast filling out my list of local musicians. Here is to an enduring tradition of music.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
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