zero 7 concert tonight. really missed sia, who's not on this tour.
went to amber to people watch and think about the story. met a dave, charles, seth, john--a line of guys who just kept taking the spot next to me, trying some angle with me. i was polite but kind of irritated because they would assume i was "bored" and could use some "company," and i would tell them that this is my regular neighborhood spot and i'm actually working right now, thinking out a story. it was kind of irritating, but it's what happens when you think better in crowded places and you're in a bar (i wish they had late night cafes open around here, but most late-night food places are all bars). some guy came up just to cuss me out, mumbling how much he didn't want me. i kept asking him to repeat what he said and he would say "nevermind," but just get angrier at me, an angry little asian robot.
end of the night, the bartender who had periodically come by to chat and comment that i'm very popular, asked for my phone number, and i wouldn't give it to him. so he told the little angry asian robot that i needed a walk home. i wrote "muthafucker" on a piece of paper and gave it to him as my phone number. the guy was wearing a wedding band. i told him i don't mess around with married guys, yet he says he wears it because he gets more tips even though he's not really married.
actually, in la, the bartenders DON'T wear their wedding bands to get better tips.
lies. all around. men lying to get my attention. and all i'm looking for is some truth. a home. someone whose arms i can fall asleep in. or at the very least, tonight, a good story to write about.
i think it's because i wore red today. that was the issue. and it was like a break in the dam that wouldn't stop flowing. i'd been avoiding wearing red in seattle, joking to myself that the men of seattle can't handle me wearing red. but i wanted the red today to aid my creativity.
and so that was the course for the night--men, women--as soon as i got rid of one, another one would sidle up. even when i was talking to the bartender, telling him i only have room for 1 in my entourage, and unless he can fit into snake eyes' outfit and be willing to die for me, i'm closed--these guys were filing by and touching my back, one by one.
more of your fans, the bartender said.
flattering, okay. but not the way i want it to be. i'm ready for next level shit. not idiots spitting game, acting like i'm a creature from some other place.
tonight felt like one of those throwaway nights. mildly irritating. i think i would have felt better about it and more celebratory if i knew what i'm going to write about.
