Saturday night. Nine o'clock. Pitch-black sky under cloud cover I snaked my way along the concrete ribbons heading home from downtown Louisville. I had just left Mrs. Potter's; a coffeeshop still open because a friend of mine, Rachel, had setup a night of music performances there. As the orange speedometer nears 75 I look around and realize something: no traffic. A Saturday night in Louisville with seventy-degree weather and no traffic whatsoever? What gave?
I stopped at one of my old haunts – the Heine Bros. coffeeshop at Gardiner Lane Plaza. With the exception of four whole people in the place it was dead as dead. I ordered a mocha and chat with the blond barista about why all was quiet on the Buechel front. We guessed about the game. It apparently became the kind of big deal that Derby was for locals meaning that everyone stayed home. Or at a friend's place.
I finally got back to the apartment on the other side of town around ten. I would find out that the UK Wildcats lost by one point. One. What a pisser for the fans. That silence that cloaked the city must have been a collective silent scream of disappointment. Oh well.
But let me take you to the beginning of this story...
The week sucked. Plain sucked. Not merely “things will hopefully get better but right now they suck” kind of suck but “all things in the world, at once, taking such a big crap that it clogged up the vortex of suck” kind of suck. I got upset while chatting about texting (and I shouldn't have). I got the lowest on the low end of raises at my job along with coming to the conclusion that I don't need to be there but there's no where else to go. My car had been having a “choking” effect that made it shutter at stops and while accelerating. I had to cut-off chatting with someone I like because I was becoming stressed-out and didn't want all the crap of the world that I was absorbing to spill into characters in a chatblock. I quickly found myself burnt. Overwrought. Tired. Done.
I put in to take a half-day that Friday because I wanted to let it all subside for a bit. By 1:30 I walked out the front lobby doors, got in my car, drove back to the apartment, and crashed on the futon for 90 minutes or so. Got up, made sure I had my orange wristband, grabbed my camera and Cage the Elephant CD, then got into the car and drove into the Highlands to ear-X-tacy to watch them perform.
Killed 30 minutes in the Heine Bros. next door. I walked in to the ear-X-tacy by 5:10 and it was beginning to pack. Most of the clientele seemed to be late-high school and twenty-somethings but there were those older than me in the crowd. I talked with a lanky, red-headed guy who sported a Canon 5D Mark II (MSRP: $2500 for the body alone). He was trying to get into the “taking pictures of rock stars” niche but was working at UPS currently. We talked shop a bit then the band took the stage.
I took about 50 shots. Afterward I waited in line for 30 minutes to meet the band. They autographed the inside of my CD liner and let me have a picture with them.
On my cellphone I called Ronald who was with one of the Meetup groups downtown doing the First Friday Trolley Hop. The group was at an art museum and I decided to meet them over at 21c. I drove to Slugger Field, parked there, and caught one of the wandering trolleys over to the combo art museum/hotel. Along the way I listened to two girls sitting adjacent from me talk about the different downtown stops, etc.
At 21c I met up with the group: Janice, Teresa, Tamara, Ronald, Peter, Teresa T, and a girl named Jennifer. I helped them “tour” the place and split time hanging out with the Teresas and Tamara. I hung out a little with Ronald and talked with Peter some. 21c is one of my favorite places in the city.
Some time later we go out to eat at the Mexican restaurant Los Aztecas. The rain began dropping in buckets outside right before we began leaving. Tamara and Teresa T made for a place called the Bodega while the rest of us paid our tabs and wondered how we were going to get through the rain. I used my jacket to cover over my camera and braved through while taking cover under awnings and building with high columns. We finally got on to a trolley and were about to head back to Slugger Field to go home when Ronald called Teresa T and we were let off the trolley around the Bodega. Incidentally the rain had stopped by then.
The Bodega was a Spanish-themed eatery that seemed to cater towards the sandwich and smoothie lot with beer and alcohol served as well. As soon as I walked in through the front entrance two guys were playing music center stage; one had an electric guitar and the other played drums. Tamara and Teresa T were already there drinking and swaying to the music. I went to the bar and ordered a BBC “seasonal” which I later deemed “tasted like crap.” I remember watching the rest of them gathered at the opposite end of the table talking, Teresa swaying to the music, the beer tasting like shit, and I was five planets away. As soon as I finished it off I went back for an iced tea (with mango) and became more sociable. I guess I was tired.
We walked back to Slugger Field and bid farewell for the night. The next day I was set for the photo scavenger hunt...
Which had its moments. By 1:30pm I left my apartment, drove downtown, rounded 4th Street Live to find their free parking, and made it to the Food Court by 2. By then four people had showed. I went over to the CVS pharmacy and bought a bottle water and Snickers bar. By the time I got back the population 'sploded and Michele, the organizer, was going through the rules and divvying up who the teams were. I was paired with Shane and Jennifer (who was at the previous night's Trolley Hop) and we were given the sheet. While out taking pictures with my camera Michele asked me if the card in my camera would fit her laptop. That'd be a negatory. So, we had to opt to use Jennifer's camera.
What happened next was 90 minutes of going around trying to find what we could and coming up short. Some things we tried didn't work. Some things we could've done but didn't realize. Some things we ran out of time on. The last half-hour was spent circling back to 4th Street Live to get to the TGI Friday's and doing whatever we could along the way. Closing out on the meeting time of 4:30 we realized that we were going to be short of what we needed and each person displayed their disappointments differently.
4:30pm. The last group made it there on-the-dot. The restaurant setup our tables and I sat across Jennifer and Teresa, with Shane on my left and a new guy, James, on my right. I ordered the new Picatta (sp?) Chicken while waiting for the results. My group came in last. It's how it goes.
It soon became 7 and some of us wanted to continue hanging out while most of the others left. I suggested Mrs. Potters because my friend Rachel would be playing (as adverted by her FB status). A new couple to the group agreed to come along so it was I, Teresa, Joe T, and the new couple that made it over there. Teresa gave me a ride over after I picked up my camera from my car. The group icked a table in the back of the restaurant.
I ran into Rachel outside who asked me to take pictures of her performing. Sure thing. When Rachel took the stage I grabbed my camera and went to the front alternating between two chairs (one withint a foot of the amp) taking pictures of her. Right after she finished I went back to the table and the group, collectively, decided it was time to go. They thanked me for inviting them, citing that she was “really good” (with one guy thinking I was going to take them to a poetry slam), and we all dispersed separately. Of note the girl (part of the couple) thanked me and said that it was truly nice and that it “meant something” on top of her enjoying the first 30 of the show. That's cool.
Hitched a ride back to 4th SL with Teresa again. We rounded the blocks to get close to the parking garage. “I'm gonna let you off here and you're gonna have to hoof it. Follow the legs.” She pointed toward the four blond chicks in mini-skirts and high-heels pounding their way to the entrance to the place. I laughed, thanked her, then went to the parking garage. Got into my car and drove home.
Sunday. Got up not-as-early and my uncle followed me over to GoodYear Tire Center to have my car looked at. We dropped it off and then went in search for breakfast. Or lunch. His stomach was changing like McDonald's at 10:30; your bacon, egg, and cheese artery-clogger will now be a Big Mac Heart Attack. We opted instead for Bob Evans where I found out that he had never tried a crepe. There's a first time for everything... Went home, zoned out to jazz on WFPK, got back up, then went to a place called Joe's “Older Than Dirt” Bar. From the outside it looks like a shack with rocking chairs; inside, it's a MASSIVE bar. Tried their Philly cheese steak sandwich (good different) then went back home. I would have to get up early the next morning, be at work for an additional 90 minutes, miss cardio/strength training, and get my car.
Which is what happened. $310 dollars later.
Closing it off here. Tired. Need a shower. Burned 400+ calories at the fitness place. Ate at Fazoli's (going downhill for a bit...) Got some coffee. I think I've earned tonight's sleep.
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