I'm not usually an advocate of skipping classes, but when Jess told me that Lindsay Mac was finally coming back to Portland--and then seconds later broke the bad news that it was happening on a Wed night, at the same time as my marketing class--I only hesitated for about 0.2 nanoseconds. Luckily it's early in the term, and my professor has this extremely helpful habit of posting her lecture notes.
It was kind of a weird show, happening during happy hour, before the regular open mic. But a little Lindsay is so much better than no Lindsay at all. I made a little card using a project from my photoshop class last term, and had it sent over to Copy Pilot to be printed. When I rushed into pick it up, I found one of my old Finkos coworkers with my print in hand. My card was spur of the moment and of course I couldn't help making a few requests. I rode my Cross Check faster than I have in a long time over to 9th and Alberta. I needn't have worried. When I walked in, the music side was still closed for sound check and the bar was practically empty.
Two women I suspected to be a couple had walked in just before me. I heard them get kicked out of the entertainment side of the bar so I stopped to dig out my card before going in. The guy doing sound check was just inside, but he didn't immediately notice me so I peeked around the corner to see Lindsay sitting at the bar working on the set list. I went over to greet her and she totally remembered me. Sort of. "Hey! It's Jess, right?"
Believe it or not, that made me happier than if she'd remembered my name. It's a common problem that when Jess is out and about without me, a lot of people don't always recognize her until she identifies herself as 'Kronda's girlfriend.' So I was thrilled to have things reversed (so to speak) for once and couldn't wait to text Jess about it.
Lindsay invited me to claim seats so I took a table close to the stage. While I was deciding, Mona, the percussionist for the band, started pressuring her to finish up the set list. Perfect. "Um, read my card, it might help," I said. She picked up and scanned the list. After that retreated to bar to scrounge for food.
I had felt, more than heard the couple who preceded me, have an unpleasant interaction with the bar tender, so I wasn't at all surprised when she turned out to be the rudest person ever. It wasn't just the condescending way she said, "bowl size" while rollling her eyes when I asked about the soup sizes, or the snotty tone she used when she informed me that, "you have to buy a drink if you want the happy hour price," Everything about her just shouted, I hate you and I have so many other things I could be doing right now. It was all I could not to ask if she gets any tips. She certainly didn't get one from me.
After I ordered, I went and made friends with the couple, who turned out to be Sally and Melinda. We started a little support group for victims of rude servers and made small talk while we waited.
In due time, Jess arrived with Lisa and Sally, who was very concerned about getting good seats, noticed they were letting folks in on the other side. So much for Rude Woman's assurances that she would announce when the doors opened. Sally and I scooted over to the line. I got in first, and saved a couple of extra seats for them.
T also showed up just then, so our gang was complete. Jess and LIsa both suffered through ordering food and then had to interact with her again to tell her we were switching sides. Thankfully that was the last unpleasantness of the evening. I saw Lindsay standing near the door and took Jess over to say hi. We officially met the band, Mona and Jason (also co-producer on Lindsay's latest CD), both doing double duty or more in the instruments department. Mona was, how shall I put it--really smokin' hot. She plays Cajón drum (otherwise known as a box), which just enhanced the effect. It was probably good that we were Lisa's ride, so we could make sure she got home to Spike OK. For that matter, it was probably good I had skipped class so I could make sure Jess got home to me OK...
Mona was fascinated by the fact that Portland holds some kind of record for number of strip clubs per capita, which was a running joke throughout the show. Afterwards I told her that coincidentally, we had just opened a strip club in our living room, but sadly, could not get her to come home with us.
Since time was tight, they played one long set and many songs from my request list made it in. Our seats were perfect and even the inevitable tall guy in front of us had immediately assured me that he would shift however he needed so that we could see. The sound was amazing and hearing Lindsay with a full (non-cello) band was extraordinary. The house (which was packed within minutes of opening) was completely mesmerized. Lindsay was charming, funny, and told just the right amount of stories while
torturing tuning her cello in ways that were never meant to happen. About halfway through the show, she proclaimed that she feels like she belongs in Portland. I don't think our attempts to convince her to move here are having much effect (she's from Boston), but hopefully she'll visit often.