My roommate, colleague, and friend Pablo turned 40 yesterday. The man, the myth, the legend has reached middle age in what he would like to call grace and charm. To celebrate another year of him getting closer to being eligible to order from the honored guests section of the Denny's menu a bunch of us headed down to The Triple Door. Omar Torrez was in concert and we watched the man play the guitar brilliantly. It was a great show and all in attendance seemed to enjoy it.
In what now can be described only as stupidity I decided to work for Pablo today so he could sleep in with his lady fair. He's getting up there in years so he needs the rest. I got no sleep last night. None. Zilch. Nada. I stayed late after the show as my roommate and his lovely gal got an autograph from Omar and ate some free cake.
Even though I had to get up at the butt crack of dawn I was happy to stick around. I had the most interesting conversation with a girl who was in attendance. The discussion ran the gamut from New York strip clubs, European travel, Buddhist philosophy, politics in Tibet, and scantily clad women preforming the Nutcracker. After said conversation I pondered how in that brief time we talked about such random, but fascinating topics. I've come to the conclusion that my mind is full of odd material that's normally unsuited for polite discourse. I probably frightened the poor thing.
Yes she was hot.
"My most salient impression? That having a flat is important but I am finding home is in Seattle, in Venice, in Cholula Mexico, and in Moscow. It is where my heart is and I seem to have a promiscuous one!" - Omar Torrez