Big Red, Lost Charts and a Man Kiss

People never fail to surprise me.

A brief summary of recent gigs: (all events are true, however bizarre)

A friend commented repeatedly how "surreal" the scene is. This "great" music (his words) being treated as "musical wallpaper." He kept repeating this like he was shocked. Hey, they are here to dine and drink. I dunno. I'm kinda used to it. He is also the first man to kiss me on the cheek.

One woman requested that we play "something more lively." Can't say I blame her, but we're two geetarists- what can we do? Rock out the house? Suddenly a full band appears, sound system in place (set at a correct volume) and it's Party Central? People lack understanding, that's all. Besides, that's not what the owner wants.

Last week, this mature red-headed woman requested Fly Me to the Moon and then Girl From Ipanema. I could tell that this woman was well into her drinkies and so I told her and her companion, "We don't know that last one, but we play The Girl With Emphysema."

Well..said mature redhead returned last night and was really, really into her wine (or whatever) and say kept talking about a piano player. Did we have one? Which one of us is the piano player?

Lady, there ain't no piano player here!

Quote of the night from Big Red, a name given to her by the bartenders, "I'm going to leave my glass here. Make sure no one puts anything in it.......like acid."

On the opening tune, I lost my place in the chart. That's embarrassing. Great way to get the duet started on solid ground. In my defense, I was sight-reading, but still...dude. I made sure that never happened again the whole night.

Big Red made a memorable quote to a bartender: "I like you, but trouble is...my daughter does too."

I told Big Bill the Wrestler to audition for Survivor. And I am really serious about that. He could kick total ass.

To be discreet, I will only quote an enthusiastic man: "I'm sorry, man. I know I've been talking too much. I'm just crazy." Can't fault the guy there.

Last week, my guitarist compadre was really into talking about his deficiencies and frustrations with music. My advice? "You should really worry more about a good moisturizer for your face and one for the hands."

I was told later that one of the young patrons wanted to be part of "a sandwich between" the evening's musicians. Yowsa. Is my face red?

P.S. Last time I saw Big Red, she had returned from whatever table in the back and looked around for her wine, which the house had cleared away. She stood at the bar, trying to look as sober as possible, getting ready to order another drink. She was beyond another drink.

And well into the Twilight Zone.