Driving in my small black import (from Yugoslavia or somewhere), I am drunk and out of control. I have my new best friend whom I greatly admire in the passenger seat. My new best friend is male and a writer and also a computer geek. I warn him I am out of control, I really need you to take the wheel I shout over and over as he ignores me. We careen over a hilltop and crash into a large tree. The car is totaled.
Later I see him in front of his computer. Will you still be my friend I ask.
He says his back is sore and that he doesn't think he is interested in being my friend, now that all of this has happened.
Ok, so I was feeling a little guilty. Two days ago, we packed a little overnight bag. Well, maybe it was a big one. Sheets, pillows, three changes of underwear, medications, shampoo, bathing suits, two bottles of wine, one liter of vodka. You know, the basics for an overnight. We went to Richmond (an hour away)to see Big Head Todd and the Monsters.
They were playing on Thursday night in a botanical garden. Beautiful.
Yes, I missed work on Thursday, technically speaking. I was there for three hours. I put a note on the door. It read, "Got a date with BHT and the Monsters (but I wrote it all out)Be back Friday at 1:00" and then we hit the road.
I made it back to the shop by 2:00 the next day, but I forgot my keys and decided to call it a day and go on home.
We stayed at our friend's house just outside an idyllic crack neighborhood. She told us to bring swim suits in case we wanted to jump in the pool. This thought made me happy. It was lovely, even if it was inflatable.
A few more drinks, a quick sandwich and into the garden to groove.
Three nights prior to this show, BHT and the M's played to thousands of people at Red Rocks arena. I am sure there were barricades and cops and the security thing that we always see at the large stadiums.
Thursday night, no barriers on a grassy hillside in a bucolic garden. A little stream flowing into a pond surrounded by exotic lilies, grasses and trees. A stage set up under a tent, in front of a stone pavilion. Beautiful sunset, hot summer night less than 500 people.
Only Tate and me dance, he starts to get nervous. Too many eyes watching us and not our favorite band (we have many favorites). I don't care, we dance some more. I kick off my favorite black sandals and careen out of control again. This band and many others have this effect on me. I step across a tiny stone path and dance onto the stage. Todd is so smooth, he smiles at me a most genuine dance smile. I get to dance for nearly the entire song, then one of the stage crew directs me off by coming into view and pointing. I obliged.
I looked around at the crowd on the grassy hillside, everyone was dancing now. We broke the ice.
Last summer this band played in a local arena, the stage is 7 feet high. Tate lifted me up and put me on stage to dance with Big Head Todd. Within a minute or so, a stage hand came out from the back to beat me over the head with a club, so I thought. I jumped off the stage like a punk crowd surfer and luckily Tate caught me before I ended up face down in the concrete. He really must love me.
The band plays an amazing show, they showcase some of their new stuff and play the classic favs. They sign autographs and meet the fans at a little tent after the show. I bought a mauve-red wife beater tee with their logo. Todd signed my shirt while I wore it. I told him how much we love their music and that I was the crazy person who got thrown off the stage last year in Charlottesville.
He said he admires my balls. How about that.
After the show, completely delirious and hungry. We go to a local pub which serves great booze and ok food.
I search the floorboard of the truck for my sandals, to no avail. I seem to have lost my favorite black sandals somewhere in the garden.
That my friends is a black form of transportation(my shoes)telling me that I am a bit out of control and they are not going to be my friend anymore, after the way I endangered them and everything.
I'm going to miss my sandals.
Bitter- sweet -surrender
FYI: This might just be the very worst tongue in cheek dream interpretation ever, but it was fun for me.
Big Head Todd and. . .