Another installment from the doorman's chair. I witnessed last Saturday night at Fly Bar The Perfect Storm of bad taste and ego run amok, coupled with wretchedly bad dental hygiene.
Minding my own business, dutifully checking IDs with a splendid poisonous sangria keeping me company (gotta love jobs where they let you drink, and even encourage it), and along comes Twinkletoes. His name has been changed to protect his equally stupid real name.
No front teeth, 40-ish, ostensibly from LA, breath that could trip a land mine, decked out head to toe in fire-truck-red Chicago Bulls regalia, lame hat, dripping with electroplated-gold crap ruining his posture, and now he just has to talk to me.
First words out of his mouth; "I'm a musician and an entertainer." Next unsolicited words; "Let me tell you something about what I've learned over the years...." I tuned out until he said, after 20 minutes babbling crap in my ear and blocking the door, "I'd like to go hear some live music. Blues, I think. Because, y'know, I'm a musician and an entertainer."
"Well," sayeth the helpful doorman, "there's the Boom Boom Room just a 20 minute walk down that way. There's a great band there tonight."
To my musician and artist friends, remember that a little humility in the face of our daunting task-master of a muse is a good thing, and an important thing. As the man said, "let the music do the talking." Now shut yer pie hole and play me a good song.
And don't forget to floss.
Posted by eric at June 22, 2005 09:25 PM