musician

It was a surprise birthday party to which i had gotten a text message invite from an old hookup who probably preferred that I didn't attend, but did want me to forward the message to all the rugby people who had made friends with her (the birthday girl, not the hookup) when she was running circles over the competition instead of getting high all the time. Regardless, I arrived anyway, with none of my brethren to accompany me, meandering awkwardly through this menagerie of unfamiliar faces. To be fair, the party was hosted at a local brewery who had some excellent local beers on tap. I still frequent the place during tours, everyone go to the Atlanta Brewing Company Fridays at 6 and enjoy the tasting.

But I digress.

Many beers, slices of pizza, and a local band's set into the evening, and I was ready to start gaining the acquaintance of these strangers. It wasn't long until I came across one woman standing with a male friend in the brewing area smoking a cigarette. She wore a tight, blue work shirt that may have said "carl" on a name patch for a mechanics shop, several piercings in her face, and a tattoo of a piano keyboard that stretched around her wrist until the keys neared her inner arm and broke off and tumbled up towards her elbow. Her curly, dark hair was a superfluous footnote of attraction on an already inspiring individual, and I was drunk enough to make a first move.

I approached empty minded but somehow asked casually, "Excuse me, are you a musician?"

"What, you couldn't tell from the fucking tattoo?"

"No, I was just overwhelmed by the total presence of rock aura emanating from your pores."

I looked confidently into her eyes as she stood bewildered, not sure how to take what I'd just thrown at her, but clearly interested at prodding further at my conversational quirks. I forget what immediately followed, but conversation ensued with her and her friend until someone mentioned french campaign. Of course I had to interrupt...

"Or as we learned from Christopher Walken in Wayne's World 2, all champagne is from France. Anything else is simply sparkling white wine."

To this she lost control, and cracking up claimed that she was the biggest Wayne's World nerd of all, and admitted to owning the board game (which may actually be a drinking game, I'm unsure).

I moved on and a friend arrived, someone who'd never met the birthday girl ironically, but still it was good to see someone familiar. After more drinks and drunken conversation, the band played another set (one member of which turned out to be the musician's little brother).

I see her again in the crowd, approach, and gesture a greeting towards her, which she returns in kind. This somehow erupts into a pantomime exchange of intense rock stage poses, the antithesis of which includes a raised arm of triumph post air-strumming and hand bang above a wide rock-stance, rotating before others who may view such immense posture. After laughing profoundly she yells in my ear "you have to play, what instrument?" i told her that I sang, but am learning guitar.

The party continued as usual, there was further conversation and we exchanged numbers, and things seemed to be going amazingly well. Her male friend was eager to put on a show to raise money for alternative energy sources and was interested in getting some contacts in the science world (I go to Georgia Tech) for the proceeds. They definitely were not together.

A long game of phone tag proceeds between voicemail and texts until finally we speak again on the phone. I mentioned "more is in the inbox than the outbox... to make a metaphor to an office job that is life" (now that i have an office job, it seems more and more relevant) and we have a great conversation and mention coming parties to eachother.

Still, despite the "maybe" plans and commitments, I never saw her again. I learned later that the girl was bisexual and had a girlfriend at the time i met her, which could explain a lot. Despite it all, she took my heart that day. It's too bad we couldn't explore that relationship further, even just as friends.