One of the things I had liked about the Gypsy was the way he embraced the mystic. He told me a lot about astrology. He and Ananda both told me my Saturn return was approaching... I am still not really sure what that meant.
He also said it was okay to carry a token to keep you grounded. "I carry a little blue rock in my pocket."
"Really? Let me see."
Indeed, a little blue rock.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shortly after our encounter at the birthday party, I started to feel comfortable to go to places where I might run into Spectacle again. I did not have any intention. I told myself I was attempting to act like an adult. But one night he approached me, "You wanna come back to my place and smoke some pot?"
"You don't smoke pot."
"I used to- I do sometimes. I have some," he offered. "Let's have a shot."
That shot was followed shortly by another one. "I'm not going to be able to drive, if I drink this much so quickly."
We compromised that we would continue drinking, and he would drive us back to his place in my car.
Back at his place again, the same thoughts ran through my head, What are you doing here? Are you fooling around with this guy again? Didn't you already figure out that he was wasting your time?
But I was there, and he was rolling a huge joint in a cigarette machine.
He had bought a car since we last hung out. He was making progress. It was sort of encouraging.
----------------------------
I never lingered in his place in the mornings. This morning I considered it. While I pondered, he was checking the clock.
"You have somewhere to go?"
"A dentist appointment..." he yawned. "Would you give me a ride? Then I could stay in bed another thirty minutes."
"I thought you have a car now?"
"It'll take as long to park as it will to bike there."
"Okay. I'll give you a ride."
He pulled me towards him and took full advantage of the extra time in bed.
As I dropped him off, I revealed it had not been on my way. His dentist was towards my apartment in the burbs, but not towards the clients I had scheduled for that afternoon. This did not seem to sit right with either of us, my going out of my way to do him a favor. We did not discuss it.
-----------------------------------------
That weekend we attended the same camping festival. I do not recall whether he even said hello. At some point, I spotted a girl with him and swore I heard, "She saw us." I thought it was the girl who had been flirting with him at the birthday party.
I told myself, Don't be paranoid. It's none of your business anyway. Stop being so egocentric!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was preparing to move to the city. Spectacle was playing drums for a band at the local coffee shop venue. I went... Many friends were there, including Mr. Mister and his girlfriend. I was only slightly self-conscious having them for an audience as I enticed Spectacle to have a beer with me at the after-party bar.
I was nosy enough to ask him if he had been involved with that girl. He said no. Somehow I did not trust him, but I told myself it did not matter. This was not a relationship. It wasn't even a friendship really.
He seemed reluctant but obliged. He was far less reluctant to follow me back to my apartment. Part of me wanted him to see it. "It's about to all disappear. This place isn't going to exist anymore. It's weird," I told him.
We sat on the carpet talking a long while, playing with my cat. Spectacle was surprisingly fascinated with her. I thought maybe we would have a completely platonic night, when he suddenly pounced on me... Why else would he think I asked him to come home with me...
As we curled up to sleep in my bed I caught him speaking with a sincerity and openness that I had never encountered with him before. "This is a nice bed. A nice apartment. Why would you give all this up?"
"I've been driving too much, in and out of the city. I lived here with my ex- It's just time for a change."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After that Spectacle stayed at a distance for a while. I joked with myself that he was avoiding the possibility that I would ask him for help moving boxes and furniture.
The entire move I had the Gypsy on my mind. During our mystical conversations I confided in him that I was playing with tarot cards, trying to learn to read them.
"Please don't ever include me... Most people don't realize it, but tarot cards cast spells," he warned me. "Once I let some random guy- who totally had no idea what he was doing- to try to read my cards. It fucked with me for years."
"What? That's terrible."
"Eh, it's okay now." He had this way of brushing everything off, this patience.
As time drifted, away from him, a dark curiosity came over me. I studied briefly online and books. Then I laid out a three card sequence; The Fool, The Wheel of Fortune, and Justice.
--------------------------------------------------------
In my new apartment, late one night, I suddenly could not resist the urge to call him. He answered, "Hey, how are you?"
"I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to call you... I just-"
"It's okay... We... broke up."
I was astounded, "Really?"
"Really."
He caught me up on some of the details.
"Do you still have the little blue rock in your pocket?"
"I do... and a couple days ago, I added a little pink rock too," he laughed, "It's funny to hear from you now."
"Well, I... I know you told me not to... but I sort of used tarot cards."
We were entertained with our rituals and our presumption of their effectiveness.
---------------------------------------------------
In the next couple weeks, we would visit one another's homes. We could go on a few dates. He would attend my gigs in the city. During our time apart, his father had been in the hospital. When he came home, we visited him.
He told us the story, "I was having chest pain for five days. I was chewing on baby aspirin. We talked about it, considered letting it happen..." He squeezed his wife's hand. "Then we decided we still wanted a little more time together and did something about it." He laughed, "They were pretty aggravated about all the aspirin at the hospital. Said if I kept that up, it might have killed me before my heart did."
...Despite our new found freedom, we did not rush into a physical relationship. I said I would probably need to wait a long while until I would be ready to have sex with him, maybe months... maybe a year.
"Or we could wait until we got married," suggested the man who had been engaged to almost every girlfriend he ever had but not married once.
"Or that," I agreed.
--------------------------------------------------------
He stayed with me the night before I left for FFest. I awoke next to him with two strange feelings. The first told me to have sex with him then and there or never. The second told me I would not be seeing him in September. I withheld the first feeling, ignoring it. I told him about the latter.
"You don't want to see me in September?"
"I just... don't think that it happens," I sighed. "Time is having its nonlinear way with me. I don't know what it means. I'm just telling you."
"Okay."
"Gypsy, can I take your rock with me while I'm at FFest?" I shyly requested.
"Which one?" he took them out of his pocket.
I paused, listening to hear my inner voice answer, trying to not rationalize either choice. "The blue one."
"Ahhhh..." He placed it in my hand.
"What?"
"Well, if you had asked for your rock, you'd want to be free to be on your own while you're away... You asked for my rock- So, you can keep me with you, and I can keep you with me."
I considered this a test I had passed. He helped me load my camping gear into my car, and we said goodbye.
--------------------------------------------------------------
At FFest I intended to keep my cell phone turned off. However, by the time I set up my tent- with help I had recruited from a still smitten Felix... who had also been the friend who volunteered to help me reassemble my furniture in my new apartment- I was turning it on again. A flood of messages; some from the Gypsy's number. Some from an unfamiliar number. Some in the first person, some addressed from his supposed ex-girlfriend... Calling me a whore, telling me that I wouldn't come between them, accusing me of fucking him.
My heart sunk the distance of the Empire State Building elevator shaft. I dragged myself back to Felix and asked him to sit with me. He watched me turn into a puddle of despair. I realized was taking advantage of his good nature. I should have put up the damn tent myself or asked someone from my own campsite. I told him I would be fine, thanked him, and left him.
Despite my choice of rock, which I kept with me the entire time, I was on my own for FFest. I tried to keep an open mind... an open heart... ready for whatever was coming.
Who showed up was Victor... But I already told that story. (http://echovictory.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-price-of-admission.html)
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When I returned from FFest, I rushed to find out what was going on. The Gypsy told me that his girlfriend still had a key to his apartment. She came in and stole his cell phone for several days. He insisted all the messages were from her, even the ones that sounded like they were from him... The ones that had crushed me the most. The ones that said, "She needs me. I made a mistake."
I did not know what to believe, only what I wanted to believe.
I insisted upon coming to his apartment... There we spent a very awkward and strange night, the three of us. Her continuously convincing me he was with her. Him trying to find ways to help her. Me in the middle, literally. I slept between them on the futon that was his bed. In the morning, she awoke to find his arm around me. She said nothing but ran out to her car for her pills.
"This is not good," he said. He put the pills aside and suggested we go out for breakfast.
The three of us walked up to my old neighborhood coffee shop. As she and I conversed, I realized that we had a lot in common, like we could be different versions of the same model. She wanted to be an artist. She had gone to school to study art... But she still was not confident that she knew her style. She expressed fear of absorbing too many influences that might affect it.
I talked to her about finding my voice, about learning to perform and embrace my authentic self. She seemed unconvinced. I realized that in her eyes, I had been born with self-confidence, that she considered the imaginary line I had crossed impenetrable.
...August 31st the Gypsy met me in the park, where we had often played guitars. I asked him to help me complete a Reiki School assignment- to write me a love letter. It did not have to be from a lover, just someone in my life. My girlfriend, Leigh wrote me the second one I was required to request.
Under the moon I cried without tears, "I used to feel like I knew we had time together... now I can't tell if it already happened. If it's over."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September was a big month. I had a big gig coming up, and my bassist was out of town, on tour with another band. My mind wandered to Victor. I sent him a message asking him to fill-in.
Charlie came over and the three of us rehearsed for an hour... as I tried conform my strumming rhythm to Victor's bass playing, a strange magnetic attraction began to pull me towards him. It whispered the word, Stay.
When we had finished rehearsing, Victor and I began engrossed in conversation... and Charlie was be included, much to my chagrin. Leave, Charlie. I'm talking to Victor. But he would not budge until I said goodbye to Victor. I locked the door behind both of them.
What am I doing? I am on hiatus... no dating, no booze, no drugs, no meat... Sober, single September.
----------------------------------------------
At a Reiki practitioner function I met a woman who was reading tarot cards. I asked her, "How can I stay on my path? I keep taking detours! I just want to progress forward. I get distracted. I have so many interests. I don't know how to prioritize them, what to focus on."
She initially took three cards, "This one is everything you want, your garden. It is in your future." The second card, "What do you see int his card?"
There was a haggard homeless-looking woman helping a helpless-looking man, bandaged around the head, with one leg in a cast, his arms leaning on crutches. "Uh... I'm not exactly sure." That's me, taking care of some stupid man who can't help himself, anchoring me.
"That is your detour. That is what you're trying to avoid."
"Ah. How do I do that?"
The third card, the ace of wands, "You've got this. You are on the right path already."
"Huh? How?"
When she could not find a way to convince me, she flipped a forth card; a valiant knight on a white horse, sword drawn high into the air, "You're going to get to your garden by cutting out the bullshit. Change is coming. Just start cutting things out... If they are things you don't know you need yet, don't worry, they come back," she answered.
I pleaded with her for one more card... The ten of pentacles. "Well that doesn't make any sense," she sighed.
"What does it mean?"
"It's supposed to mean you already have everything you need."
Then it all clicked in my head, "No, that's perfect. That's what I've been hearing, somewhere, somehow- I got it. Thank you."
...There was a large bowl of donated and abandoned rocks by the door. I paused, cupping the little blue rock in my hand. I was not ready.
I biked around south Philly. I stopped at several hair salons to try to cut my hair, but no one had time for a new client that day... What to cut...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This particular gig was a big deal... It was the one my family was finally attending. My brother and his partner were coming from Washinton D.C. with college friends. Even more important, it would be the first time my dad would see me perform... My dad- who sits at home watching public access television music shows from Nashville and Bronson via satellite. Finally he would see me perform with my band!
I was running around on bike, trying to juggle responsibilities of making the gig run smoothly, have dinner with my family, put on a nice dress, makeup... and I was fairly stressed out, wishing I had not sworn away alcohol for the month.
We were the third of three bands... by the middle of the second band's set, I began to worry whether Victor was going to arrive in time for our set. I wandered out into the crowd to greet my guests... Then I saw my family's table, "Where's Dad?"
My brother grimaced, "He didn't feel well after dinner. He stayed at the hotel."
I held back the tears as I ran backstage to squelch the impending anxiety attack. As I entered the hallway from the front, the back door opened, Victor entered, "Hi. You're here."
"Of course," he smiled.
Okay, Universe. I hear you. I do. For now, just help me pull it together long enough to get through this set. Please.
----------------------------------------------------
After the performance, I mingled with crowd. I felt empty. Victor was packed up with his bass strapped to his back... But he was lingering. He isn't going to say anything, if you don't. "Victor, you wanna go hang out?"
"Sure. Where you wanna go?"
"Well, I'm not drinking or smoking... It makes me quite boring. We could go to my place."
We stayed up until nearly four in the morning, just talking, on my living room floor. The magnets were still there. I tried to ignore them. He was so talented and knowledgeable... Mustn't ruin this opportunity by getting involved with him. There is so much to learn from him, and we know too many of the same people to get messy.
----------------------------------------------------
I decided to spend my last weekend of September in NYC with friends. It would be good to leave Philadelphia. I attended a Reiki conference. Then I met Ann and her husband, slept over on their floor. The next morning, I had a missed text from Victor, asking me to a band BBQ. I was glad the decision had been made for me.
The remainder of the weekend I spent with my old college chum, Dina. She lived in my old neighborhood in Queens. "Let's go for a walk and stop by the Hindu temple. It's some sort of holiday, and they give away free food!"
"Free Indian food? Yes, please!" I agreed.
What I knew about Hindu gods and goddesses was largely limited to a week of high school history class, but recently I had watched a Bollywood movie that introduced me to Genesh- The god of destruction. If you prayed to him, he would destroy something in your life to create an opportunity for something new. So, when the woman watching our shoes at the door of the temple explained the celebration was in his honor, I simply said, "That's crazy!"
"No!" She snapped back, offended, "It is NOT crazy!"
I smiled at her, "No, no. I didn't mean it in a bad way... I mean, that's perfect! Like I'm supposed to be here right now!"
I went in and talked to the gold jewel-encrusted Genesh, put money in his offering box, "Okay, Genesh. I'm ready. Do what you gotta do."
-----------------------------------------------------
When I returned to Philadelphia, I received a Reiki session from one of my teachers. She asked me what was on my mind.
"Well, I have been doing a fast this past month... for September. Now that it's October, I don't know where to start. I haven't been drinking, smoking, dating, eating meat..."
"You've been depriving yourself... Why?"
"Because I wanted to be able to hear my intuition."
She paused, closing her eyes, as though she was consulting her inner voice, "You need to listen to your heart. Be nice to yourself. What is it that you really want?"
I felt tears already forming, "I want... I have always wanted... a partner. Someone who understands me the way I understand him. Loves me the way I love him."
...During the session I entered a deep meditative state. I saw myself with the Gypsy. A voice explained to me that I could be with him- Then I saw his girlfriend there, on my other side. This was the way to be with him, with her, with them. Then my mind wandered away from worrying about the Gypsy anymore... After the session, I dropped the little blue rock into the pile by the door.
When I checked my phone, I had four missed calls, two waiting text messages. One was asking me to be a featured act at an open mic that night. I excitedly texted my band members, "I know it's last minute, but if you can make it- It'll be a good time and free drink." Included in this list, although he was not a regular band member, was Victor.
He was the only one who showed up.
.....After not drinking for a month, it did not take me much to get tipsy. He drove me home afterwards. He played my guitar and I improvised vocals in my living room. Sparks. Fireworks. We went for a long walk. For a moment, as we paused in my neighborhood park, I thought he was about to kiss me... But he got carried away discussing politics and the approaching election. The moment passed. As he said goodbye, when it was nearly dawn, I felt the magnets... and this time I could see he felt them as well.
Monday, August 19, 2013
Chapter 11: Gypsy
The Gypsy walked into a Pub open mic while I was performing. He was with two other musicians I knew. Our eyes met. Whenever I would steal a glance at him, he was intently watching me.
I was finally feeling free, finally feeling confident. After my set, I sat down at the bar to order another drink and waited for him to approach me. I knew he would.
"Hey, you're really good." His smile wide. His thick dark hair bouncing as he nodded his head.
I smiled back, "Thank you. I appreciate it." I turned my attention to Jube, "Can I have another green tea, Jubie?"
"No, like you're really good. Those are your songs?"
He wasn't pushy, just persistently complimentary. We made chitchat about my music. I got tipsy and told him about the open mic I was hosting. He wanted me to write it down. I took out my pen and began drawing it in large decorative letters across his forearm. I began to get very invested in the design. "I'm going to take a picture of this, okay?"
"You're going to use it to advertise online, huh?"
"Of course!" I smiled.
By the time he left, I was left wondering why he hadn't at least asked for my phone number. I did say something about whether we would meet again... "If you want to reach me, you will ask one of these guys," he answered with some skepticism, pointing at the two musicians with whom he had entered.
Mr. Mister was the host there that night. We didn't say anything to one another. By then, his girlfriend had sent me a message informing me that I was not supposed to be talking to him if I wasn't talking to her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Soon there after, after never knowing we lived in the same town for three years, I ran into him at the open mic. A little miffed with how he had left things, I tried to ignore him. He approached me at the bar and offered to buy me a beer. I declined.
"I like you, Echo."
"I like you too, Gypsy." We both smiled, hiding our teeth.
A moment later he came back to tell me he had to leave suddenly. Again, he left, a mystery.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bethie was in town. Her baby nephew was just born... Somehow I was invited to the baby shower. "Are they registered somewhere? What do they need?"
"Honestly? Probably cash... They're just moving out on their own," Bethie answered.
"Easier than going shopping. Cool. I'll see you there."
I bought melons, berries, and grapes; cut and stirred them into a fruit salad. This was not my first visit to their parents' house, but this was the first time I was there when Mr. Mister was. I accepted a beer and sat in the living room, chatting with Bethie and her best friend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I had started taking Reiki classes over 9 months prior, Mr. Mister had been the first person that I practiced on. He was laying on the floor, making faces at me and moving... Not like in class, where we would lay very still for one another with our eyes shut. I was nervous. I thought I must not be doing it right and quit.
Then within a month I grew more confident. One night I went down to the open mic and saw Mr. Mister sitting with his baby brother, looking very serious. I said hello to both of them took a seat on the other end of the bar. By the end of the evening, Mr. Mister asked if he could come over. I said yes.
When we got to my place, we sat on the couch and watched TV. I felt weird, like I did not want to say the wrong thing.
"So, I'm going to be an uncle again," he said.
I looked at him, "Oh... Billy and Milly."
"Yeah."
"Well, they have been together for years. They were going to eventually..."
"Yeah."
Somehow I asked him if I could give him Reiki again. He agreed and laid down. This time he did not try to distract me. He did move sometimes, but I kept going, from head to toes. He was sleeping before I reached his feet. Rather than wake him up, I brought him a blanket. I went to bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I'd like to try Reiki some time, if you have time," Bethie said. "I have heard good things."
"Yeah, gladly. It did wonders for me," I smiled.
Milly brought the baby around. We took turns holding him. As he laid in my arms, I felt the palm of my hand against his tiny back heat up. Not like body heat, like Reiki heat. For a moment I worried I should pass him on to the next person, like I might be doing something wrong. But I calmed myself down. Even if something was happening, it could not be something bad. I was not intending to give him anything, and if he wanted something from me, he was welcome to it.
Later Bethie and I played with her 12 year old niece. At one point, Mr. Mister's dad brought out a banjo and played. After a while, all the party attendees under forty wandered outside to smoke. I stayed on the couch, content. One of the gals I recognized from their FFolk campsite came in to grab another beer, "Hey, you should come outside where there are people your age," she said.
"Nah. I'm good here. I'm leaving in a few minutes anyway," I answered, looking at my phone. I pulled the trigger. I sent a text to one of the musicians who had been with the Gypsy, asking for his number. When I got an answer, I said my goodbyes and went home.
----------------------------------------
The Gypsy did not have a car. He walked the mile from his house to mine with his Martin guitar in his hand, puffing unfiltered Camel cigarettes every step of the way. He preferred we play in my backyard, where he could continue to smoke as we played.
It turned out, to my chagrin that the Gypsy seemed to be the one man visiting me genuinely only interested in me for my music. The reason he had been so elusive was because he had a girlfriend. Fine, whatever. He was still fun to play music with... He was able to show me how to place my fingers easily. He played many different lead styles than Charlie had ever displayed, despite my requests. But the Gypsy had no desire to perform on stage.
"I like recording," his smile revealed sharp, tobacco-stained teeth.
Recording. Charlie had told people that he was going to have me record an EP by Christmas. I was starting to feel managed somehow... the Gypsy would confirm for me that Charlie was trying to play the part- to become my producer, manager. It irritated me. I was writing the songs. I was doing the promoting. I was booking the gigs. He was showing up, coming to rehearsals once in a while... Why would he consider himself my manager? I could not even get him to alter the country-theme he was putting on all my music.
As the Gypsy and I spent more time together, I became more resentful of Charlie's presence in my life- beyond our musical collaborations. Now that Mr. Mister had moved on, I had no interest in hanging out beyond rehearsals and writing sessions. It was difficult to tell Charlie without hurting his feelings.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The spring I broke up with Rolex, my best friend in New York, Ann got engaged. I asked Mr. Mister to be my wedding date. He very quickly said yes but failed to follow through. When the wedding came, I realized he was not going to go with me. Rather than becoming angry, I accepted Charlie's offer to come with me. He explained how we could work on music during the drive. I was glad to not be driving alone, in case I drank too much at the reception.
When we arrived the other bride's maids looked at him and me. Then within earshot they began their interrogation, "Is he your boyfriend?"
"No, he's my guitarist."
"But he likes you right?" One retorted.
"Of course he likes you," confirmed another.
I wanted to tell them they were extremely rude. Then I remembered I was in New York.
The one good thing that came out of it was that I was able to perform a song at a the reception, with Charlie accompanying me on guitar.
--------------------------------------------------
A year later, Charlie asked me randomly, "What are you doing June 9th?"
Thinking that he perhaps was booking us a gig, I answered, "No plans yet."
"Great, then you can be my wedding date."
Fuck. "Wedding?"
"Remember my good friend who passed away when I was younger... Well, his little sister is getting married, and... there will be an open bar."
Wow, no way out. "Oh, cool."
I tried to tell myself, Be nice. You will have a nice meal, some drinks, meet nice people. Just enjoy it and stop making it a big deal. Hell, maybe you should stop judging Charlie and give him the opportunity to prove you wrong.
When the day came, I put on makeup, a nice dress, and heels. He picked me up, took me thirty minutes away to the other cute little town where the reception was being held- We did not have to attend the actual ceremony.
Outside the hall door, we met the bridal party, smoking cigarettes. Charlie bummed one from his brother. Charlie never had his own cigarettes.
For a moment I found myself alone with his brother and soon to be sister-in-law, "So, at our wedding next month you'll get to sit on stage with the bridal party."
What? "Cool," I tried to smile. Do they think I'm going to be Charlie's wedding date to their wedding too? Does Charlie think so?
Inside, we ate appetizers until the dining area was opened. Charlie got himself a drink while I was in the restroom but not one for me. I hesitated. I didn't bring any cash. Did I need tip money? Better to just ask Charlie to be a gentleman.
"Hey Charlie, would you mind getting me a drink?"
"You want me to get you a drink?"
"Yes, please."
He complied.
While I waited his brother approached me again, "Is he getting you a drink?"
"Yeah... I asked him."
"He doesn't always think of these things."
"Yeah. It's okay. I'm used to being training wheels." I'm going to need a double.
The food was tasty. The people were nice... But as the dancing was only just getting started, Charlie began to cut into me. He was telling me, "You need to face reality. He used you," and other such useless sentiments.
I tried to tell him to stop, but it was too late. The tears were flowing, and I was running out the door.
----------------------------------------------------------------
During my hundred days, O'Malley and I crossed paths a few times at the Pub open mic. Then we ran into each other at a coffee shop open mic. He recognized me and asked me to accompany him on a Mr. Mister tune. I did. After talking a bit, we realized we had met more than a year ago at a show his band had played with Mr Mister's.
The coffee shop was having a songwriting contest. O'Malley suggested we should collaborate. I was willing. We were having a good conversation, but I had to run to a venue in Manayunk to buy a loop pedal from a friend. I invited him along to keep me company, "I'll buy you a beer."
He accepted, and we continued chatting about songwriting methodology. He told me about his experiences working in theater and now working as a theater teacher. I disclosed to him that my songwriting topic had largely been limited to Mr. Mister at this point. I felt more comfortable being open, so he would have some context for the lyrics I might potentially write with him... or help me learn how to escape this box.
In Manayunk, I unexpectedly saw Mr. Mister. He saw me buy a beer for O'Malley, and I couldn't help but wonder what he thought about my buying a drink for an engaged man.
My collaboration with O'Malley never blossomed. He became very busy with wedding planning, and it became too difficult to coordinate schedules.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was pacing the streets, scrolling through my cell phone book in search of a friend to come pick me up. There was no one. Nick recommended a round about trip on the trolley, into the city, back out to the burbs by train, but I didn't have any cash on me. It never occurred to me to need it that night.
I was crying loudly when I suddenly ran into O'Malley and his fiance. "Fuck! Are you fucking kidding me?" Shit! You said that out loud. Idiot! You're a crazy person, and everyone sees it!
"Hey. How are you? You okay?" He asked.
"Yeah, no... fine. I'm sorry. I'll see you later." I walked back towards the hall. When I ran into Charlie outside, I told him to take me home.
He complied but continued to say hurtful things to me during the trip.
I'm done. Something has to change. This man is my band mate. That's all... I'm not sure if I even want that anymore. Froyo once told me that Charlie had claimed that he and I cuddled. Not true. Once I did tell him- when we were very drunk and high and I was depressed over Mr. Mister, "Okay, Charlie, if we are fifty, and neither of us are married, let's do it." I'm so sorry I ever let him hear such words fall from my mouth. I have an awful sense of humor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One day the Gypsy invited me to visit his dad, who also played guitar. He and the Gypsy's stepmother were wonderful people. They had intriguing life-stories that involved many career changes. They had been good friends for over twenty-five years before they decided, in their golden years, they would prefer to live as man and wife.
I adored watching them interact; the way they checked in with one another, the way his dad would periodically leave the Gypsy and I alone, saying, "I'm going to sit with my lady for a bit. Continue. I'll join you again later."
The Gypsy and I were getting closer. We were beginning to open up about our personal lives. He was beginning to reveal that everything was not well at home, with his girlfriend. He entrusted me with deeply personal secrets, justifying her undesirable behavior towards him. He said he wanted her to be better, but after six years, he still couldn't figure out what to do.
I tried to keep my advice to myself... I tried for many nights, as he would visit late and play guitars with me after she was sleeping.
Then one night I felt particularly vexed by Spectacle, I came home and asked the Gypsy to come over and ease my mind with music. He tried to remind me I needn't let this guy get under my skin so easily. But suddenly I found myself digging into the Gypsy's quandary. "You can't help her. You're enabling her. If you want to be with her, you need to let her go get better and come back to you."
"It isn't that simple."
Then something strange occurred to me. I think I need you right now. Then you can let her go. I heard a voice inside of me, urging me to kiss him.
We were disagreeing. Then a dirty trick fell out of my mouth, "If you're happy with her, what are you doing here with me in the middle of the night?"
He paused. He thought a few minutes, bobbing his head. "You're right. I like you. I have to go home."
He left. We did not speak or call or text. In another month, I moved to the city.
I was finally feeling free, finally feeling confident. After my set, I sat down at the bar to order another drink and waited for him to approach me. I knew he would.
"Hey, you're really good." His smile wide. His thick dark hair bouncing as he nodded his head.
I smiled back, "Thank you. I appreciate it." I turned my attention to Jube, "Can I have another green tea, Jubie?"
"No, like you're really good. Those are your songs?"
He wasn't pushy, just persistently complimentary. We made chitchat about my music. I got tipsy and told him about the open mic I was hosting. He wanted me to write it down. I took out my pen and began drawing it in large decorative letters across his forearm. I began to get very invested in the design. "I'm going to take a picture of this, okay?"
"You're going to use it to advertise online, huh?"
"Of course!" I smiled.
By the time he left, I was left wondering why he hadn't at least asked for my phone number. I did say something about whether we would meet again... "If you want to reach me, you will ask one of these guys," he answered with some skepticism, pointing at the two musicians with whom he had entered.
Mr. Mister was the host there that night. We didn't say anything to one another. By then, his girlfriend had sent me a message informing me that I was not supposed to be talking to him if I wasn't talking to her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Soon there after, after never knowing we lived in the same town for three years, I ran into him at the open mic. A little miffed with how he had left things, I tried to ignore him. He approached me at the bar and offered to buy me a beer. I declined.
"I like you, Echo."
"I like you too, Gypsy." We both smiled, hiding our teeth.
A moment later he came back to tell me he had to leave suddenly. Again, he left, a mystery.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bethie was in town. Her baby nephew was just born... Somehow I was invited to the baby shower. "Are they registered somewhere? What do they need?"
"Honestly? Probably cash... They're just moving out on their own," Bethie answered.
"Easier than going shopping. Cool. I'll see you there."
I bought melons, berries, and grapes; cut and stirred them into a fruit salad. This was not my first visit to their parents' house, but this was the first time I was there when Mr. Mister was. I accepted a beer and sat in the living room, chatting with Bethie and her best friend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I had started taking Reiki classes over 9 months prior, Mr. Mister had been the first person that I practiced on. He was laying on the floor, making faces at me and moving... Not like in class, where we would lay very still for one another with our eyes shut. I was nervous. I thought I must not be doing it right and quit.
Then within a month I grew more confident. One night I went down to the open mic and saw Mr. Mister sitting with his baby brother, looking very serious. I said hello to both of them took a seat on the other end of the bar. By the end of the evening, Mr. Mister asked if he could come over. I said yes.
When we got to my place, we sat on the couch and watched TV. I felt weird, like I did not want to say the wrong thing.
"So, I'm going to be an uncle again," he said.
I looked at him, "Oh... Billy and Milly."
"Yeah."
"Well, they have been together for years. They were going to eventually..."
"Yeah."
Somehow I asked him if I could give him Reiki again. He agreed and laid down. This time he did not try to distract me. He did move sometimes, but I kept going, from head to toes. He was sleeping before I reached his feet. Rather than wake him up, I brought him a blanket. I went to bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I'd like to try Reiki some time, if you have time," Bethie said. "I have heard good things."
"Yeah, gladly. It did wonders for me," I smiled.
Milly brought the baby around. We took turns holding him. As he laid in my arms, I felt the palm of my hand against his tiny back heat up. Not like body heat, like Reiki heat. For a moment I worried I should pass him on to the next person, like I might be doing something wrong. But I calmed myself down. Even if something was happening, it could not be something bad. I was not intending to give him anything, and if he wanted something from me, he was welcome to it.
Later Bethie and I played with her 12 year old niece. At one point, Mr. Mister's dad brought out a banjo and played. After a while, all the party attendees under forty wandered outside to smoke. I stayed on the couch, content. One of the gals I recognized from their FFolk campsite came in to grab another beer, "Hey, you should come outside where there are people your age," she said.
"Nah. I'm good here. I'm leaving in a few minutes anyway," I answered, looking at my phone. I pulled the trigger. I sent a text to one of the musicians who had been with the Gypsy, asking for his number. When I got an answer, I said my goodbyes and went home.
----------------------------------------
The Gypsy did not have a car. He walked the mile from his house to mine with his Martin guitar in his hand, puffing unfiltered Camel cigarettes every step of the way. He preferred we play in my backyard, where he could continue to smoke as we played.
It turned out, to my chagrin that the Gypsy seemed to be the one man visiting me genuinely only interested in me for my music. The reason he had been so elusive was because he had a girlfriend. Fine, whatever. He was still fun to play music with... He was able to show me how to place my fingers easily. He played many different lead styles than Charlie had ever displayed, despite my requests. But the Gypsy had no desire to perform on stage.
"I like recording," his smile revealed sharp, tobacco-stained teeth.
Recording. Charlie had told people that he was going to have me record an EP by Christmas. I was starting to feel managed somehow... the Gypsy would confirm for me that Charlie was trying to play the part- to become my producer, manager. It irritated me. I was writing the songs. I was doing the promoting. I was booking the gigs. He was showing up, coming to rehearsals once in a while... Why would he consider himself my manager? I could not even get him to alter the country-theme he was putting on all my music.
As the Gypsy and I spent more time together, I became more resentful of Charlie's presence in my life- beyond our musical collaborations. Now that Mr. Mister had moved on, I had no interest in hanging out beyond rehearsals and writing sessions. It was difficult to tell Charlie without hurting his feelings.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The spring I broke up with Rolex, my best friend in New York, Ann got engaged. I asked Mr. Mister to be my wedding date. He very quickly said yes but failed to follow through. When the wedding came, I realized he was not going to go with me. Rather than becoming angry, I accepted Charlie's offer to come with me. He explained how we could work on music during the drive. I was glad to not be driving alone, in case I drank too much at the reception.
When we arrived the other bride's maids looked at him and me. Then within earshot they began their interrogation, "Is he your boyfriend?"
"No, he's my guitarist."
"But he likes you right?" One retorted.
"Of course he likes you," confirmed another.
I wanted to tell them they were extremely rude. Then I remembered I was in New York.
The one good thing that came out of it was that I was able to perform a song at a the reception, with Charlie accompanying me on guitar.
--------------------------------------------------
A year later, Charlie asked me randomly, "What are you doing June 9th?"
Thinking that he perhaps was booking us a gig, I answered, "No plans yet."
"Great, then you can be my wedding date."
Fuck. "Wedding?"
"Remember my good friend who passed away when I was younger... Well, his little sister is getting married, and... there will be an open bar."
Wow, no way out. "Oh, cool."
I tried to tell myself, Be nice. You will have a nice meal, some drinks, meet nice people. Just enjoy it and stop making it a big deal. Hell, maybe you should stop judging Charlie and give him the opportunity to prove you wrong.
When the day came, I put on makeup, a nice dress, and heels. He picked me up, took me thirty minutes away to the other cute little town where the reception was being held- We did not have to attend the actual ceremony.
Outside the hall door, we met the bridal party, smoking cigarettes. Charlie bummed one from his brother. Charlie never had his own cigarettes.
For a moment I found myself alone with his brother and soon to be sister-in-law, "So, at our wedding next month you'll get to sit on stage with the bridal party."
What? "Cool," I tried to smile. Do they think I'm going to be Charlie's wedding date to their wedding too? Does Charlie think so?
Inside, we ate appetizers until the dining area was opened. Charlie got himself a drink while I was in the restroom but not one for me. I hesitated. I didn't bring any cash. Did I need tip money? Better to just ask Charlie to be a gentleman.
"Hey Charlie, would you mind getting me a drink?"
"You want me to get you a drink?"
"Yes, please."
He complied.
While I waited his brother approached me again, "Is he getting you a drink?"
"Yeah... I asked him."
"He doesn't always think of these things."
"Yeah. It's okay. I'm used to being training wheels." I'm going to need a double.
The food was tasty. The people were nice... But as the dancing was only just getting started, Charlie began to cut into me. He was telling me, "You need to face reality. He used you," and other such useless sentiments.
I tried to tell him to stop, but it was too late. The tears were flowing, and I was running out the door.
----------------------------------------------------------------
During my hundred days, O'Malley and I crossed paths a few times at the Pub open mic. Then we ran into each other at a coffee shop open mic. He recognized me and asked me to accompany him on a Mr. Mister tune. I did. After talking a bit, we realized we had met more than a year ago at a show his band had played with Mr Mister's.
The coffee shop was having a songwriting contest. O'Malley suggested we should collaborate. I was willing. We were having a good conversation, but I had to run to a venue in Manayunk to buy a loop pedal from a friend. I invited him along to keep me company, "I'll buy you a beer."
He accepted, and we continued chatting about songwriting methodology. He told me about his experiences working in theater and now working as a theater teacher. I disclosed to him that my songwriting topic had largely been limited to Mr. Mister at this point. I felt more comfortable being open, so he would have some context for the lyrics I might potentially write with him... or help me learn how to escape this box.
In Manayunk, I unexpectedly saw Mr. Mister. He saw me buy a beer for O'Malley, and I couldn't help but wonder what he thought about my buying a drink for an engaged man.
My collaboration with O'Malley never blossomed. He became very busy with wedding planning, and it became too difficult to coordinate schedules.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was pacing the streets, scrolling through my cell phone book in search of a friend to come pick me up. There was no one. Nick recommended a round about trip on the trolley, into the city, back out to the burbs by train, but I didn't have any cash on me. It never occurred to me to need it that night.
I was crying loudly when I suddenly ran into O'Malley and his fiance. "Fuck! Are you fucking kidding me?" Shit! You said that out loud. Idiot! You're a crazy person, and everyone sees it!
"Hey. How are you? You okay?" He asked.
"Yeah, no... fine. I'm sorry. I'll see you later." I walked back towards the hall. When I ran into Charlie outside, I told him to take me home.
He complied but continued to say hurtful things to me during the trip.
I'm done. Something has to change. This man is my band mate. That's all... I'm not sure if I even want that anymore. Froyo once told me that Charlie had claimed that he and I cuddled. Not true. Once I did tell him- when we were very drunk and high and I was depressed over Mr. Mister, "Okay, Charlie, if we are fifty, and neither of us are married, let's do it." I'm so sorry I ever let him hear such words fall from my mouth. I have an awful sense of humor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One day the Gypsy invited me to visit his dad, who also played guitar. He and the Gypsy's stepmother were wonderful people. They had intriguing life-stories that involved many career changes. They had been good friends for over twenty-five years before they decided, in their golden years, they would prefer to live as man and wife.
I adored watching them interact; the way they checked in with one another, the way his dad would periodically leave the Gypsy and I alone, saying, "I'm going to sit with my lady for a bit. Continue. I'll join you again later."
The Gypsy and I were getting closer. We were beginning to open up about our personal lives. He was beginning to reveal that everything was not well at home, with his girlfriend. He entrusted me with deeply personal secrets, justifying her undesirable behavior towards him. He said he wanted her to be better, but after six years, he still couldn't figure out what to do.
I tried to keep my advice to myself... I tried for many nights, as he would visit late and play guitars with me after she was sleeping.
Then one night I felt particularly vexed by Spectacle, I came home and asked the Gypsy to come over and ease my mind with music. He tried to remind me I needn't let this guy get under my skin so easily. But suddenly I found myself digging into the Gypsy's quandary. "You can't help her. You're enabling her. If you want to be with her, you need to let her go get better and come back to you."
"It isn't that simple."
Then something strange occurred to me. I think I need you right now. Then you can let her go. I heard a voice inside of me, urging me to kiss him.
We were disagreeing. Then a dirty trick fell out of my mouth, "If you're happy with her, what are you doing here with me in the middle of the night?"
He paused. He thought a few minutes, bobbing his head. "You're right. I like you. I have to go home."
He left. We did not speak or call or text. In another month, I moved to the city.
The Last Song
The Last Song
(Intro)
(Chorus)
You. It’s all about you.
Until there’s someone new- It’s all about you.
(Verse A-1)
This is a song that you’ve heard
before
You will again, many times, I’m
sure
‘Cause these are the thoughts that
make people write
We’ve different stories but the
same old plight
Sooner or later, we’ve all been
there
Trying to show someone how much we
care
(Verse B-1)
But the end’s- not always what we
hope
And at times- we don’t know how to
cope
(Pre-Chorus)
This is how we start over, over
again, and over again
This is I become just your friend,
but until then
This is how we start over, over
again, and over again
This is I become just your friend,
but until then
(Chorus)
It’s all about you. It’s all about you.
Until there’s someone new- It’s all about you.
(Verse A-2)
Never-ever be afraid- to erase
It’s why we use a pencil, just in
case
There aren’t any words that haven’t
been said
There aren’t any letters that
haven’t been read
Still- at times like this- wish I
could disappear
Fall over the rainbow and into the
mirror
‘cause what’s done now, we can
never undo
There are dreams forgotten that we
can’t review
(Verse B-2)
But there are dreams- that might
come true
And many more- that we’ll never
pursue
(Pre-Chorus)
This is how we start over, over
again, and over again
This is I become just your friend,
but until then
This is how we start over, over
again, and over again
This is I become just your friend,
but until then
(Chorus)
It’s all about you. It’s all about you.
Until there’s someone new- It’s all about you.
(Bridge)
‘Cause this life is short… and my dreams, they do distort-
my memories, about you and me
And this life is longer than it seems, when I’m still
holdin’ on to my dreams
(Ending)
Life is harder than it seems, when I’m holdin’ on to dreams
And I just don’t know how to move on with someone new~
The Untitled One
The Untitled One
I’m a beacon, across the waters –waiting to be seen
I’m a light, down the road -waiting to turn green
I’m a tree, in the spring –waiting to see the fall
I’m a woman, without a man
–waiting to give him her all
But I’m not waitin’ in any lines
What’ll happen next, I can’t divine
And I don’t need no one to notice me
This is my anthem, not my plea
I don’t need no one, no nothing
Nobody but me
I’ll be your wish upon a star, lighting your way from afar
And I’ll shine, all through the night, even when you are not
in sight
(Guitar solo)
I’m a beacon, across the waters –waiting to be seen
I’m a light, down the road -waiting to turn green
I’m a tree, in the spring –waiting to see the fall
I’m a woman, without a man –waiting to give him her all
AWOL
A merry-go-round of relationships, crushes, broken hearts... How to escape the vicious cycle!
AWOL
(Verse 1)
Well,
she didn’t see him coming, up the lane and down the road
Well, she didn’t see him coming,
she was lost and on her own
Then he
was there beside her, when she was all alone
(Chorus)
Little
did he know, he needed her so
He
needed her so-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh….
(Verse 2)
Well,
she didn’t see him running, down the road and up the lane
Well,
she didn’t see him running. He wandered
off somewhere again
And
when he came back to find her, she’d gone and caught a train
(Chorus)
Little
did he know, he needed her so
He
needed her so-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh….
(Verse 3)
Well,
he didn’t see her coming, up the lane and down the road
Well,
he didn’t see her coming, he was lost and on his own
Then
she was there beside him, when he was all alone
Chapter 10: Touching & Talking
My decision to not have anymore boyfriends was one that surprised me. It arose from a conversation with a man I was dating, Ben. Benny owned a bar... and he was an alcoholic. He seduced me with twenty-six days of sobriety. My standards were low, as I was still recovering from a year long infatuation with Mr. Mister.
"What do you mean 'no more boyfriends'... You mean you're just going to get married?" he attempted to clarify.
I did the math, "I guess so." There did not seem to be another way around it. "I have had boyfriends. I treated them like husbands, like I was giving my entire life to them... and they did not reciprocate. After a few years, I realized they never would, and I left."
I caught the perplexed look on his face and waited, giving him a chance to speak.
"What does reciprocate mean?"
Ben was not the brightest boy, but I told myself to remain open minded.
The first time we met was at the Lickety Split open mic, several months before he would pursue me romantically. I was talking to a friend of his who played the keys. This friend seemed to think he would do Ben a favor by introducing us.
At that moment, I was still trying to find my confidence. As he made conversation, I reminded myself, "Just be yourself. Don't think. Don't edit." I can not recall all of the content, but I know I was charming. I know my heritage came up, and as usual I was told I was pretty- Something I truly did not believe yet.
"I grew up looking at Korean women, thinking that's what I should look like; skinny, petite, tan. But instead I got these big boobs and childbearing hips!"
Ben was pretty chubby during that first meeting. He reminded me of Jackie Gleason. I told him so- He did not take it as a compliment.
After I played, and he complimented me, his friends bought a round of shots. As we raised our glasses he said, "Goodbye."
"Goodbye? Are you leaving?" I asked.
He grinned, "No, I'm not going anywhere yet... But I won't be here anymore." Then he downed his shot.
We chatted a little more over the remainder of the night. When it was last call, I began to gather my belongings.
"What are you doing now?" He inquired.
"I'll probably go home and play some more music."
"Wanna have another drink?"
"It's two, all the bars are closing."
"We can go to my bar, drink more. You can play there."
For a split second I considered how fun it would be to have a bar to myself... But with this drunk stranger, who no doubt would say he was platonic but likely end up trying to touch me.
"Rain-check," I smiled, said goodnight and drove home.
Upon entering my apartment, I caught a glimpse of myself in the three mirrors I had hung, staggered across the wall. "Oh no," I heard myself say, "What did you do? Look at you! You are pretty, and you said all sorts of alluring things to that man!"
Months later this sentiment turned into a song:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She Ain't Me
She likes to ride in fast cars and hang out late in bars
She drinks a lot of beer and never sheds a tear
She wears a fancy dress and never makes a mess
But she doesn't fight fair- so buyer beware
No, she ain't me- This here girl you see
No matter what you do, she can't be with you
She looks like me. She's my evil twin.
Knows all my secrets, shares in every sin
If you don't believe me wait around and see
She's my very best friend and my worst enemy
She likes to entertain, and she may seem vain
She'd like to be a star but can't play a guitar
and though we look the same, and we share a name
I'm nothing like her- who you'd prefer
No, she ain't me- This here girl you see
No matter what you do, she can't be with you
No I'm a different girl from the one you see
I ain't her, and she ain't me
If you find a way to get her into your bed
You'll wind up waking next to me instead
So don't waste your time, buying her whiskey or wine
You'll ask for her number, but she'll give you mine
No, she ain't me- This here girl you see
No matter what you do, do, do... she can't be with you!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Months later Ben lured me to his bar, then back to his apartment to smoke weed and watch cartoons. He was a good listener. I made it clear that I was on a dating hiatus, that my heart was broken, that I was not interested. Nevertheless, I had already begun to make promises to myself... About trying to do things differently this time. I would consider everyone around me a potential mate- until someone claimed me, really committed his life to me as I would mine to him. I would not be superficial. I would not be judgmental or pretentious. I would put aside my presumptions about what I thought I wanted and just spend time with people.
I found myself being reluctantly courted by Ben. He would draw pictures of me as I played guitar. He would feed me delicious local cuisine from his south Philly neighborhood, get me drunk, smoke a joint with me, then pet me while I sedately watched cartoons. He called this prelude to dating, "touching and talking".
Little did I know he was eagerly counting down the hours until my 100 day man-fast would end.
This was when I wrote my first joke:
So, it's hard being a female at an open mic. I'm always outnumbered 10 to 1 by the boys. We hang out at these bars, drink and play... and by the end of the night, we're feeling good- A guy will ask me to go back to his place to "jam". No funny business, just chill and play some tunes, he says. So... we go back to his place, he offers me a beer. Sure, I'll have one more beer tonight. He turns on the TV- Oh, yeah, I like this show too. Cool. After an episode, I think it's getting late- I should start heading home. He says, no stay a little while longer. Let's smoke a joint... Alright, I'll smoke a little... The couch starts to get really comfortable... If the guy is smart, he has some snacks to share... This is alright ...Then the next thing I know, he's trying to shove his tongue down my throat, and I'm like- Whoa! Wait, wait, wait! What the hell? You mean I can't follow you home, sit on your coach, watch your TV, drink you beer, smoke your weed, and eat your food- without you trying to put the moves on me?! ...Then he tells me I talk too much.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ben and I had a few nice dates. One time we took his nephew to the movies. I watched Ben pretend we were a family. He seemed happy... But after a few weeks, he started drinking again, and I watched him fall apart. I listened to him belittle and berate himself. I saw him cry on several occasions. Until eventually he ended our courtship. I felt like when he looked at me now he saw a reflection of everything he disliked about himself...
"We have to stop this..." He said, "I can't break up with you- because I'm not with you, but we can't see each other anymore."
"Okay... You don't wanna just hang out?"
"Nope. Can't."
"Okay."
...The next few times I talked to him, he would drone on about his old crush- How he was still obsessed with her. He would project that I must be equally obsessed with Mr. Mister. Rather than becoming jealous, he became friends with Mr. Mister. It was a strange dynamic.
By then I had become good friends with his roommate, Ashley. So we still ran into one another... But I told him, "If you already know the answer, I won't argue."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later into the future I would recount this story to the Gypsy.
"So you just walked away?"
"Yeah. That's what he wanted. Why would I argue?"
"Don't you think he wanted you to? ...if you really cared?"
I thought about it, still do from time to time, and I always come to the same conclusion, "I guess I didn't, or I would have."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At least once Ben confused me by asking me to hang out again. One time in particular he was very wasted and tossed a book at me... Some self-help dating book. He said this was how he seduced me. He said he wanted to know if he could get a girl like me... It never occurred to me that I was any sort of prize to be won, but once he got me, he was finished with me- and just as well. His kiss gave me no sparks either.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was surprised to receive an invitation to Mr. Mister's birthday party at Ben's bar. I decided to go- to show no ill will towards either of them... That was where Spectacle found me again. "Hey, where did you go?"
"Oh, hi. Me? I'm around."
"I haven't seen you... You disappeared."
I did not want to explain to him that after several weeks of fooling around, he had made me feel like a fool in public. He could not communicate with me well enough to say whether he wanted to spend time with me or not. We did not get to know one another, could not read each other... Neither of us made contact between the times we bumped into one another, despite having each other's contact info. So, I stopped being around him.
I did not explain it to him. Instead I watched another woman flirting with him, while he seemed to be flirting with me... Then I went home alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Occasionally I would catch up with Ben. He would ramble on about the same self-deprecating woes that he had many years before I ever met him. "Ben, you're a good guy. You have lots of friends who care about you. Why do you do this to yourself? Are you a masochist?"
"What's a masochist?"
"What do you mean 'no more boyfriends'... You mean you're just going to get married?" he attempted to clarify.
I did the math, "I guess so." There did not seem to be another way around it. "I have had boyfriends. I treated them like husbands, like I was giving my entire life to them... and they did not reciprocate. After a few years, I realized they never would, and I left."
I caught the perplexed look on his face and waited, giving him a chance to speak.
"What does reciprocate mean?"
Ben was not the brightest boy, but I told myself to remain open minded.
The first time we met was at the Lickety Split open mic, several months before he would pursue me romantically. I was talking to a friend of his who played the keys. This friend seemed to think he would do Ben a favor by introducing us.
At that moment, I was still trying to find my confidence. As he made conversation, I reminded myself, "Just be yourself. Don't think. Don't edit." I can not recall all of the content, but I know I was charming. I know my heritage came up, and as usual I was told I was pretty- Something I truly did not believe yet.
"I grew up looking at Korean women, thinking that's what I should look like; skinny, petite, tan. But instead I got these big boobs and childbearing hips!"
Ben was pretty chubby during that first meeting. He reminded me of Jackie Gleason. I told him so- He did not take it as a compliment.
After I played, and he complimented me, his friends bought a round of shots. As we raised our glasses he said, "Goodbye."
"Goodbye? Are you leaving?" I asked.
He grinned, "No, I'm not going anywhere yet... But I won't be here anymore." Then he downed his shot.
We chatted a little more over the remainder of the night. When it was last call, I began to gather my belongings.
"What are you doing now?" He inquired.
"I'll probably go home and play some more music."
"Wanna have another drink?"
"It's two, all the bars are closing."
"We can go to my bar, drink more. You can play there."
For a split second I considered how fun it would be to have a bar to myself... But with this drunk stranger, who no doubt would say he was platonic but likely end up trying to touch me.
"Rain-check," I smiled, said goodnight and drove home.
Upon entering my apartment, I caught a glimpse of myself in the three mirrors I had hung, staggered across the wall. "Oh no," I heard myself say, "What did you do? Look at you! You are pretty, and you said all sorts of alluring things to that man!"
Months later this sentiment turned into a song:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She Ain't Me
She likes to ride in fast cars and hang out late in bars
She drinks a lot of beer and never sheds a tear
She wears a fancy dress and never makes a mess
But she doesn't fight fair- so buyer beware
No, she ain't me- This here girl you see
No matter what you do, she can't be with you
She looks like me. She's my evil twin.
Knows all my secrets, shares in every sin
If you don't believe me wait around and see
She's my very best friend and my worst enemy
She likes to entertain, and she may seem vain
She'd like to be a star but can't play a guitar
and though we look the same, and we share a name
I'm nothing like her- who you'd prefer
No, she ain't me- This here girl you see
No matter what you do, she can't be with you
No I'm a different girl from the one you see
I ain't her, and she ain't me
If you find a way to get her into your bed
You'll wind up waking next to me instead
So don't waste your time, buying her whiskey or wine
You'll ask for her number, but she'll give you mine
No, she ain't me- This here girl you see
No matter what you do, do, do... she can't be with you!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Months later Ben lured me to his bar, then back to his apartment to smoke weed and watch cartoons. He was a good listener. I made it clear that I was on a dating hiatus, that my heart was broken, that I was not interested. Nevertheless, I had already begun to make promises to myself... About trying to do things differently this time. I would consider everyone around me a potential mate- until someone claimed me, really committed his life to me as I would mine to him. I would not be superficial. I would not be judgmental or pretentious. I would put aside my presumptions about what I thought I wanted and just spend time with people.
I found myself being reluctantly courted by Ben. He would draw pictures of me as I played guitar. He would feed me delicious local cuisine from his south Philly neighborhood, get me drunk, smoke a joint with me, then pet me while I sedately watched cartoons. He called this prelude to dating, "touching and talking".
Little did I know he was eagerly counting down the hours until my 100 day man-fast would end.
This was when I wrote my first joke:
So, it's hard being a female at an open mic. I'm always outnumbered 10 to 1 by the boys. We hang out at these bars, drink and play... and by the end of the night, we're feeling good- A guy will ask me to go back to his place to "jam". No funny business, just chill and play some tunes, he says. So... we go back to his place, he offers me a beer. Sure, I'll have one more beer tonight. He turns on the TV- Oh, yeah, I like this show too. Cool. After an episode, I think it's getting late- I should start heading home. He says, no stay a little while longer. Let's smoke a joint... Alright, I'll smoke a little... The couch starts to get really comfortable... If the guy is smart, he has some snacks to share... This is alright ...Then the next thing I know, he's trying to shove his tongue down my throat, and I'm like- Whoa! Wait, wait, wait! What the hell? You mean I can't follow you home, sit on your coach, watch your TV, drink you beer, smoke your weed, and eat your food- without you trying to put the moves on me?! ...Then he tells me I talk too much.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ben and I had a few nice dates. One time we took his nephew to the movies. I watched Ben pretend we were a family. He seemed happy... But after a few weeks, he started drinking again, and I watched him fall apart. I listened to him belittle and berate himself. I saw him cry on several occasions. Until eventually he ended our courtship. I felt like when he looked at me now he saw a reflection of everything he disliked about himself...
"We have to stop this..." He said, "I can't break up with you- because I'm not with you, but we can't see each other anymore."
"Okay... You don't wanna just hang out?"
"Nope. Can't."
"Okay."
...The next few times I talked to him, he would drone on about his old crush- How he was still obsessed with her. He would project that I must be equally obsessed with Mr. Mister. Rather than becoming jealous, he became friends with Mr. Mister. It was a strange dynamic.
By then I had become good friends with his roommate, Ashley. So we still ran into one another... But I told him, "If you already know the answer, I won't argue."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later into the future I would recount this story to the Gypsy.
"So you just walked away?"
"Yeah. That's what he wanted. Why would I argue?"
"Don't you think he wanted you to? ...if you really cared?"
I thought about it, still do from time to time, and I always come to the same conclusion, "I guess I didn't, or I would have."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At least once Ben confused me by asking me to hang out again. One time in particular he was very wasted and tossed a book at me... Some self-help dating book. He said this was how he seduced me. He said he wanted to know if he could get a girl like me... It never occurred to me that I was any sort of prize to be won, but once he got me, he was finished with me- and just as well. His kiss gave me no sparks either.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was surprised to receive an invitation to Mr. Mister's birthday party at Ben's bar. I decided to go- to show no ill will towards either of them... That was where Spectacle found me again. "Hey, where did you go?"
"Oh, hi. Me? I'm around."
"I haven't seen you... You disappeared."
I did not want to explain to him that after several weeks of fooling around, he had made me feel like a fool in public. He could not communicate with me well enough to say whether he wanted to spend time with me or not. We did not get to know one another, could not read each other... Neither of us made contact between the times we bumped into one another, despite having each other's contact info. So, I stopped being around him.
I did not explain it to him. Instead I watched another woman flirting with him, while he seemed to be flirting with me... Then I went home alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Occasionally I would catch up with Ben. He would ramble on about the same self-deprecating woes that he had many years before I ever met him. "Ben, you're a good guy. You have lots of friends who care about you. Why do you do this to yourself? Are you a masochist?"
"What's a masochist?"
Marathon
Marathon
(Verse 1)
Oh, the sun and the moon, they
never leave
Although at times our eyes, they do
deceive
No, they are always there, even if
we can’t see where
We simply move around at different
pace
(Verse 2)
Oh, the
sun shines and brings her bright warm glow
And the
moon, he tells the tides when to come and go
They know what they have to do
-They know what we all wish we knew
There’s nobody takin’ either one’s
place
(Chorus)
But
there’s a path we’d like to find, if we could get out of our minds
We would
see which way we’d like to go
And
there are places we wanna roam, but we can always come on home
To the
selves we have always known
We have
to look if we’re gonna find- and learn to trust and be kind
So that
when we’re found, we’ll know just what to do
(Verse 3)
Oh,
there are things that everybody needs
And
most of us have a chance here to succeed
If we
could only see it clear, we all have nothing here to fear
There’s
no one winnin’ this life-long race
(Guitar solo)
(Chorus)
We wait
for someone else to see, the better selves we hope to be
And
dream that we may see our hopes come true
We have
to look if we’re gonna find- and learn to trust and be kind
So that
when we’re found, we’ll know just what to do
(Verse 4)
Oh, the
sun and the moon never change
Although
their places in the sky do rearrange
If we
could only see it clear, we all have nothing here to fear
We
simply move around at a different pace
Chapter 9: Maybe Baby
Amazing things began to happen... Mr. Mister was recording his album, preparing a CD release party. Meanwhile I was booked for my first real gig. I was coordinating band rehearsals and beginning to promote. Up until that point I was hesitant to even call myself a "musician". I felt inadequate... But I knew if I was doing this, I was going to do it right. I took a hard gulp and created a Facebook band page. I designed and printed flyers. I rode the open mic circuit hard.
By the time Christmas came around, I was in a strange place. My 29th birthday approaching. My heart up in the air... Suddenly Mr. Mister seemed to be around again- But not really... Because he was always working and recording. -And I could see her staking her claim. I could see events unfolding fast and knew I had nothing to do with what the outcome would be. I took my hands off the wheel and enjoyed the ride...
One popular Center City open mic was having a special Christmas themed open mic... Every musician had to play at least one Holiday song. I was still miserable to learning covers. I tried to sit down and learn one, but within a few hours, I had written a fun little tune of my own... Derived from the chord progressions of "All of me" and "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out", I put together a song that spoke all about how badly I missed Mr. Mister... About how every time I walked the route from the open mic to my apartment, I half expected him to drive up and tell me to get in...
"Maybe Baby"
Last year, I met a man in red
He had a long beard and a fancy sled
He pulled up, next to me, and flashed a grin,
winked an eye and welcomed me in
He said, "Baby, come sit by my side,
and I'll take you for one hell of a ride!
We don't need no roads, where we're gonna go-
just look down at the rooftops aglow
We're gonna fly, on the wind- just like a kite
I'm gonna take you 'round the world tonight
'Cause, Baby- Maybe... Maybe, Baby,
You were made for me, for me, for me, for me
For me, for me, for me, for me."
All that night we rode 'round together,
staying warm through all sorts of weather
We fed the cookies to his funny reindeer,
while we shared a flask of holiday cheer
He told me, "Mrs. Claus, well, she's the real myth
I've searched the whole world for the one to be with
So, Baby- Maybe... Maybe, Baby,
You were made for me, for me, for me, for me
For me, for me, for me, for me."
Since that morning that he dropped me home
I knew better than to wait by the phone
I tried to roam and run with the boys,
but I had more fun just playin' with my toys
So, tell me Santa, where are you this year?
-and did you get the letters I sent you, dear?
Will you- meet me under the mistletoe?
I'll wrap myself up, complete with a bow
'Cause, Baby- Maybe... Maybe, Baby,
I was made for you, for you, for you, for you
For you, for you, for you...
After Christmas, we were at the open mic... Then at a friend's after party. I asked him to take me home... When he started to touch me this time, I did not stop him. We finally had sex again. He watched me in disbelief. Then, only moments afterwards, I felt a twinge come over me. My mind spoke because my heart hadn't the courage, "I think you have a girlfriend."
"Huh? Nah."
"Yeah... Pretty sure you do. You should find out- 'Cause I don't fuck guys with girlfriends."
That was the last time we were intimate. By New Years, he proved me right.
I started a count down of 100 days... No men.
Chapter 8: Sparks
Halloween was wonderful. Several nights of Mr. Mister… drunk crazy nights, but lovely nights. I was girl-scout again and again… in my knee-high Doc Martins, brown sweater tights, and authentic vintage girl-scout uniform a girlfriend had lent me. I felt wonderful, sexy. I made cookies and handed them out at bars. I didn’t worry about feeling out of place because I was playing a character the entire time…
The last dress up night, Mr. Mister offered to take me home. I remember him driving drunk, recklessly reversing back half of my street for a parking space, when I reminded him that he had to park on the right direction or get a ticket. The exaggerated movement of the car felt like we were a cartoon for a moment… and the moment continued as I jumped out of the car and skipped like a school girl, up the sidewalk and into my apartment building. I could hear him smirking and admiring the show I was putting on… It was not for him, but I was basking in the fact that he was entertained and attracted by the display of my true nature… the authentic self that I was usually too ashamed to let shine through.
In my apartment, I shuffled around in my kitchen, in search of a snack for Mr. Mister. He sat in my dining room, watching… Then the next thing I knew, he had grabbed me, spun me around, and pulled me into his lap, kissing me with such abandon that the chair tipped over and we tumbled onto the floor. Undeterred from our lustful groping, he tore my sweater tights. I don’t know how that evening did not end in intercourse. It was just innocent enough, just filthy enough to be perfect.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
…Many beautiful nights- of a youth that I had postponed knowing until he came into my life. As it happened, I took it for granted. I reminded myself, “This is it. This IS the relationship. It is what is happening now, and you’re missing it…”
Happily feeding him french toast at three o’clock in the morning, watching the stars in the sky disappear as birds serenaded in the sun, occasionally indulging in small inhales of his Marlboro Lights… All I could see was the other women he wanted to pursue, how I must have been lacking somehow… I began mourning for us long before it was over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I won’t say too much about her… Just that- I saw her chasing Mr. Mister, and I wondered if that was how I had seemed at some point. He did not see her coming. Men rarely do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Despite our fun, Mr. Mister still seemed to be pushing me to explore… and he was clearly doing some exploring of his own. So, one night, after a show, I asked my one superficial crush, Mr. Spectacle to go have a piece of pie with me- What else is there to ask a guy to do after midnight that doesn’t sound like an indecent proposition?
Initially he said yes… Then he said he was going to another bar to see another band. ”Rain-check,” I smiled, trying to not show my disappointment. However, a moment later I was tapping on his shoulder, politely asking if I could meet him there. He agreed.
I knew he was on a bike. So, I went to catch a bus across town. I had taken the train into the city and assumed there would be a bus back to the burbs late night.
On my way to the bus stop, mutual friends of Spectacle and I found me. A younger couple, silly and sweet; I tried not to seem anxious. The guy inquired quite unexpectedly, “So, are you and Spectacle going to make out tonight?”
“What? I don’t know. I don’t think so-” I blushed.
At the bar, Spectacle bought me a beer. We made small talk.
When 2 AM came and everyone began to wander home, I told him I was walking back to center city, where I was sure I could catch a bus. He was hesitant to leave me on my own and walked with me, pushing his bike. Perhaps it was obvious that I did not want the evening to be over, but I really didn’t have anything in mind beyond that walk. I would not have known what to imagine.
Spectacle began interrogating me for the dirt that I had been avoiding during small talk. What was going on with me? What kind of expectations did I have?
I told him I didn’t have any expectations. I was going through a confusing mess with loving someone who didn’t love me. In this case, my emotional detachment would be an asset. I knew Spectacle was trying to be a gentleman and not get involved with a woman with feelings.
We arrived at City Hall, covered with tents, Occupy Philadelphia protesters. I had seen it on television, but being there in person, seeing the shanty town for the first time with my own eyes, I was astounded.
The next part was a jumbled mess of words. His being skeptical I would find a bus home. My insistence that I could take care of myself and didn’t need him to worry about my transportation or my feelings… Then he was kissing me. Sparks. As we came apart, neither of us said anything for a moment, as if we were savoring the flavor still in our mouths.
He still had his hand around the small of my back, “Should I get a taxi?”
I heard the words, but I couldn’t process them quickly enough. What did that mean? ”Uh, uh-huh. Yeah.”
As he locked his bike up outside City Hall and waved a cab, my mind flooded with thoughts. I am going to his place for the night. Does that mean we’re going to have sex? Can’t we just sit and watch cartoons? Is it too late to change my mind? Do I want to change my mind?
At his place he gave me a tour. He gave me a t-shirt and boxers to wear. We brushed our teeth. We crawled into bed. It almost felt completely innocent… Until it wasn’t.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next time Mr. Mister asked me if I had made out with anyone new lately… We were sitting on my couch, watching cartoons. When I answered honestly and succinctly, he paused for a few minutes. Then he put down his half finished glass of iced tea, said goodnight, and walked out the door.
Gambling -with Chords
Gambling Capo
3
(Intro)
Em –Em7
–C -B7
Em -Em7
-Am -Em -B7 –Am –Em –B7
(Verse A-1)
Em Em7
Em Em7
Your coin is spent, wherever it
went
Am Em
Your di is cast, it’s in your past
B7 Am
Did you
miss a turn? Did you crash and burn?
Em B7
It’s
all just a lesson that you’ll never learn
(Verse A-2)
Em- Em Em7
So,
don’t waste your time, wantin’ what’s mine
Am Em
‘n
makin’ strategies- because you don’t know me
B7 Am Em B7
It’s a
shame, it’s a game- It’s a shame…
(Verse B-1)
Em Em7
It’s
over, when it’s over-
C Em
Sometimes
I win, sometimes you lose
Am Em B7
Whatever
happens, we rarely choose
(Verse B-2)
Em Em7
It’s
over, when it’s over-
C Em
Sometimes you lose, and
sometimes I win
Am Em
B7
Whatever happened, is what has
been
(Music Break) Em -Em7
-Am -Em -B7 –Am –Em –B7
(Verse A-3)
Em Em7
Did you
fall apart? -and go back to start?
Am
Em
And
would you rather cheat, than admit defeat?
B7 Am Em B7
It’s a
shame, it’s a game -it’s a shame.
(Ending)
Em
Em7
Over
and over again, you make the same foolish mistakes
Am Em
No
matter how much it is that you lose, you just keep on raisin’ the stakes
C
Gb B7
You wanna gamble with your life
once more- You wanna win back what you lost before
Em- Em7- Am
Oh-oh… Yeah… eah… Your coin is tossed!
Em B7 Am Em-B7
Em
-and you don’t know how much of yourself
it is- you’ve lost!
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