Show number 1, Seattle, WA:

The Comet Tavern is a bar’s bar. It’s where bars would go to drink for cheap. The ceiling is covered with wadded dollars, and the bathroom ceiling with wadded TP. So don’t look up—the Comet deflects all help from the heavens.

A woman dressed like a girl said, “I’m a lildrunk. So WHUT?!” Two bums came up close to me and one said to the other, “Sheblushin.” And then the other said, “She is…NaaAuW!” And then the soundguy pointed out the second bum and said “That’s the owner.”

Okay, so here’s what pretend-happened: Just before the set, I went out the front door and got my wings from Stephanie’s car. A hush fell as I sauntered in the front door, across the bar, and onto the stage. The stage light turned on. I kicked a loop, and then, in an unexpected move, picked up my acoustic and perched with it in the middle of the room, on the partition between the lower bar and the upper stage. I began to sing my newest tragic song with gutwrenching earnestness, as the loop blipped along hypnotically behind me. My music and my presence intoxicated the sober and transported the drunk. I levitated a little above the partition, and began to slowly revolve, all the while singing higher and higher. I spun faster and faster, and heated hotter and hotter, until I exploded into a shower of sparks which rained into everyone’s beers. They drank the magic potion, and were revived from complacency, and they remembered how to feel.

So, that’s what pretend-happened. What actually happened was, the baseball game was on, and I guess it was pretty great. Nobody could take their eyes off it, but a couple people nicely tried. Meanwhile, much was made of a sluggish black puppy. Many people reconnected with friends, and workshopped their life philosophies. Loudly. And I stayed in my stage corner, and didn’t make too much trouble. My set was middlin,’ not cataclysmic, not meteoric. My foot got stepped on, and the door guy tried to stop me from re-entering ‘cause I didn’t have a stamp. I said, “Go ahead and give me one, to prove I was here.” But he couldn’t find it.

Links:
Grey AnneSpace

Related posts:

1. Grey Anne: A Tea and a Burger Bender (Bend, OR) Day 4—Bend
2. Grey Anne: Saturday Marketing (Eugene, OR) Day 4 part
3. Grey Anne: Eleanor Must Be My Go-To Fake Name (Oakland, CA) Day 5
4. New Penny Jam! Grey Anne Plays Amongst Mannequins at Portland Store Fixtures Over the c
5. Grey Anne: Winding Down in SF (San Francisco, CA) Day 7—SF

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.