Blogging in E minor
Usually just a bunch of silly crap.

How I Met My Muse, Part II: Awkward at Best

Link to previous installment 

Fast forward to 1987 . . . . Note: Extensive time travel involved in the next chapters. Pay careful attention!

Burstweazel's studio as it appeared during the late 80's

My band, Burstweazel, was throwing a bash at our studio to celebrate the end of a long and frustrating search for a vocalist. We wanted to see how our man, Paul, would work before a crowd, so we had invited friends over for an open Saturday night rehearsal. More than anything, we were just itching to play before an audience.

            By sheer coincidence, Rugburn, the band with whom we shared facilities, was throwing a party of their own the same night. As a result, the place was packed with people and both bands got to perform before an expanded audience.

            The studio, which once served as the broadcasting base for The Lester Family Sings, was rockin.’ Revelry abounded as people were dancing, partying, downing beer bongs and drunkenly hanging all over each other. Guests roamed from room-to-room to listen to both bands play as well as to behold the ceiling-to-floor carpeting patchwork that adorned the expansive, cavernous space.

            For many, this was the first time they had gotten a look at this new band I had been bragging about during the preceding months, and they were quite impressed. It was a good time.

Photo from the night of the party

            At one point during the evening, I was in front of a mic introducing a song, when somebody shouted: “I know you! We went to Homecoming together freshman year in high school!”

            Of course, this could only be one person.

           Maria was virtually unrecognizable, and I surely wouldn’t have picked her out of the crowd had she not said anything. Gone were the braces and platinum blonde hair. Instead, her locks were reddish-brown and hung in her face. Like most of the Rugburn crowd, she wore baggy, vintage clothing. Eight years had since passed since I had seen her last, and she was grown.

            This was awkward at best and I quickly realized that the situation had the potential to get really ugly. I dramatically played my surprise to the crowd and popped my forehead against the mic, creating a loud THUMP. This got a laugh and created some comic relief.

            “Maria, how are you?” I asked. We exchanged pleasantries briefly before the band preceded with the next song.

            During a break, I sought her out and found her in the room outside of Rugburn’s studio that served as a kitchen. We spoke briefly before being interupted by a goofball who pretended to interview us as if he were Oprah reuniting long-lost lovers. He asked questions about how old we were when we met and where this all took place. “And what happened after the dance?” he floated out there, hoping to expose a juicy tidbit.

            “Well, my mother picked me up and his father picked him up, and that’s about it,” she replied into his pretend microphone.

            This was accurate. Certainly not the whole story, but accurate. I was grateful that at no time did she reveal – during the set or afterwards – any of the sorted details that could have proven quite embarrassing to me – made me look like a total prick, to be quite frank. I did not however, come out and actually say this.

            “It was good to see you again, Maria,” I said instead. She rejoined the Rugburn crowd and I went to play another set. This would be the last time I would see her for more than 20 years.

to be continued


One Response to “How I Met My Muse, Part II: Awkward at Best”

  1. OMG I just saw this! You are too funny! Can’t wait to read the rest of it.

    Poodle skirt? Cocker spaniel hair? “Wunderkind”? All I can say is you weren’t far off the mark, hehe.

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