.
-as of [8 DECEMBER 2023]-
.
@ vox pop cafe
(brooklyn)
*december 2009*
john ames –> bass
adam rifaat –> drums
(realized i had been driving with a long-expired driver’s license during this period)
(this spells bigtime liability for we drug-fueled drivers)
needless to say, as long as i was behind a wheel, i was a perpetual nervous wreck)
ames recommended the venue so i contacted them in november for a show
parking was a bit of a bitch. i debuted the newly designed PRS and brought along a marshall valvestate (i’d bought @ guitar center springfield for around $250 as it had been used) so that i wouldn’t have to lug around a VOX AC30. unfortunately, the amp sustained some damage when a cymbal stand tore through the wire, irevocably bending the circuits. since my signal would go in and out at random, i was forced to sing a few verses with mere bass + drums backing. actually added some unintentional dynamics once the guitar line started working again.
this was our first show after a winter hiatus. i’d been playing solo shows up to that point, as in a midnight slot on the first hour of halloween @ bar east in the upper east side (october 2009). there was a single rehearsal @ looming studios the week before just so we remembered all the songs. we ended up building a completely new setlist.
younger brother champ headed out to the show late. just as we launched into ‘more beer please’ (as part of the larger ‘little league’ suite). and the bartender, true to his form, gave me a beer. which i drank as fast as i possibly could before resuming my fretboard duties.
then i drove the lot of them in manhattan so that riff and ames could catch trains to their apartments in long island city and upper west side
(for they all had work the next morning)
then mike and i found a parking space near his west village apartment and decided to eat @ bubbi’s. it was then i realized that i’d left my flip video camera @ the venue. the bartender thankfully spotted it and tucked it away so that i could pick it up the next morning (which would be a bitch to drive).
i was more interested in trying to get laid that night. never had much luck with female audience members. no matter how great you may think you performed, you’re still a struggling artist, and that in and of itself is a turn-off.
(you’d be better off adhering to the aerosmith mantra: ‘fake it til you make it’)
so i struck up a friendly flirtation with our raven-haired bespectacled waitress. seemed to be around my age, an interestingly constructed face (must be her jewish / guatamalan hybrid genes) and an agreeable personality.
my brother tried to spur me to force a conversation as we left, but the timing was never quite there (although it always is if you can think on your feet).
so i returned to the bar area later that night by myself. creepy eh? i strike up a conversation with the equally cute bartender until some of her male goons come in and hog the conversation from there on out. as she was leaving, i asked her for her phone #. and she diligently went back to the office space and wrote me her # in impeccable handwriting. things were looking good.
(i spent the remainder of the evening getting hammered @ the cafe orlen)
a couple days later, i texted her for a monday evening date. she flaked on me that night because her rehearsals were allegedly running overboard. later in the week, we finally fixated on a sushi date in my old east village neighborhood. as usual, i prefaced the date with drinks @ cafe orlen. it was really a lovely dinner and we seemed to be hitting things off bigtime. i made my first mistake when i attempted to put my arm around her as i walked her back to her subway station. much like barnet, she wasn’t a fan of this at all
(‘i don’t even knowwww you’) so needless i neither gave nor received any goodnight kiss that night (which is the best gauge in extraploating the future of the relationship)
then she came to the jogabot post-christmas show @ public assembly. she was working @ bubbi’s late so that she only caught the tail-end of the performance (by that time, riff was so incapacitated that we had resorted to stale beatles covers like ‘get back’ and ‘come together’). but roshina seemed reasonably impressed. her own musical tastes, of course, lent themselves towards all the usual suspects for her age/class demographic: animal collective, cat power, m ward.
so we started drinking at the public assembly bar.
(“luke in tow”)
(with no dough).
(seems i’d be paying double that night)
.
.
*👨🔬🕵️♀️🙇♀️*SKETCHES*🙇♂️👩🔬🕵️♂️*
.
.
.
.
💕💝💖💓🖤💙🖤💙🖤💙🖤❤️💚💛🧡❣️💞💔💘❣️🧡💛💚❤️🖤💜🖤💙🖤💙🖤💗💖💝💘
.
.
*🌈✨ *TABLE OF CONTENTS* ✨🌷*
.
.
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥*we won the war* 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥