Palmdale
10.22.5
During a whirlwind bar-hopping session with a friend from out-of-town tonight:
The night thus far had left me feeling as if I were sharing a bag of chips with too many people. Toni was in town for one night only, and had called everyone she knew to have them come drink with her. This left her attention pulled in several directions at once. I was able to get a taste of her, but when all was said and done, I was left hungry.
In any case, we were playing pool with one of her old friends: The ex-guitarist of a modern day '80s hair band. The last time I had seen him was on stage months ago, the night Toni left for Houston. I remembered him specifically for the way he had practically humped his guitar while making eye contact with two middle aged woman who were grinding against each other.
I wrote something he said to me on a cocktail napkin tonight. I wanted to remember it, not because I thought it necessarily important or interesting, but because it stemmed from such a seemingly random and out of context train of thought. We were waiting for Toni to take her shot, when suddenly he leaned over to me and said,
The misguided specifics of the statement threw me off. Why expound upon the location of the last game, but not the timeframe? I didn't know when he had last been in Palmdale, or what the significance of his visit was. All I knew was that, whenever it may have been...he had found himself playing pool.
There was a short pause, during which I now realize I was supposed to inquire about his trip to Palmdale. When it became obvious that I was not going to do this, he finally added, "Which was a month ago."
Maybe I'm just not good at small talk.
