Sometimes my life is completely bewildering. Like a badly written novel it’s impossible to guess the motivations of the characters, and there’s no resolution or denouement.
On Saturday night I was the soundman and roadie for an Oasis tribute. After the show when I was carrying gear back to the van a young woman beckoned me over. In this situation people normally tell me how excellent the show was, how terrible the show was, how sexy the drummer is (and does he have a girlfriend), or ask when the band are playing next. In this case she pressed a screwed up receipt into my hand and disappeared.
When I unfolded it the receipt had a phone number scrawled on it in (I think) eyebrow pencil. The singer asked if she was good looking (she was), the bass player assumed that the number was for me and asked if she was holding a white stick (she wasn’t). I thought that the number was probably intended for one of the band, but it wasn’t clear which.
As we finished loading the van we spotted the woman outside the pub waiting for a taxi. I asked her if she was OK (she was a bit cold) and if the phone number was for me. She made a noncommittal grunt and walked back to one of the male smokers and started holding his hand. Shortly afterwards they got in a cab together looking for all the world like husband and wife.
Richard "homewrecker" B
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