September 16, 2011:
Pretty girl at the show.
Charming, enthusiastic, in love with music, infatuated with our circle of musicians, exchanging shouted commentary with her girlfriend over who's cutest and who's playing well tonight. As she dances her sexy pony tail brushes my arm.
Brave. Talks to me. A couple of times, so that I eventually figure out that she, uh, wants to talk to me. Questions about the band, how the guys are doing, what the plans are.
Feels good. Somebody nice, somebody enthusiastic about the same things as me. Beautiful.
Asks if I'll be at a show next week she's interested in. Now that you mention it I wouldn't think of being anywhere else. Leaves with my friend, the guitar player.
That's fine. I like her. She's nice.