Friday, March 7, 2014

Stranger than Fiction

I am a little tipsy as I write this. Got back from a nice dog walk with me Mum and the pups - looking at the moon, her dogs peeing on Lance Armstrong's front lawn...

It's Austin. South by South West has just invaded.

It's been PERHAPS the craziest roller coaster of a week I have ever had.  And that's saying something.

A week ago  I threw a party. Professionally.
An ART party.
All female artists - sorry to brag - but I'm pretty sure it was a "success". My directive from this company has been "make it fun - don't spend any money".
MY mission staement is to SELL ART and PAY ARTISTS. EVEN MUSICIANS. (shock and horror in Austin, TX - where musicians can be be bought for a hot supper)

Anyhoo - I'm running around at this event, putting out fires and shaking hands - thanking people right, left and center - when this tall, handsome fellow comes up to me and says, "Is your name Jennifer?"

I looked at him with the terror gripping my heart. I thought, "WHAT NOW!!!???"
 I also thought - "Really!??? This CUTE guy is going to tell me what's wrong or inform me that the police are at the door, the fire marshall is here or some such thing!?"

I looked up at him in his Dolce and Gabana glasses and said meekly.."Yes..?"

"Is this your thing?" he asked me directly.
 "Yes, " I sighed (as a confession), "this is my event. All of it. Guilty as charged.."

The tall, good looking man looked slightly sorry for me then, and by way of easing my pain said, "No! I think it's lovely! Cake, wine…what's not to like!?"
 I just looked up at him.
" I was just wondering…" he continued, "would it be ok if I fill in on the piano when your pianist takes her breaks?"

 You could have blown me over with a feather. But I changed gears quickly.
"Are you good?" I demanded.
"Yes." the man said without hesitation.
"HOW good?" I continued to demand looking into his pretty, brown eyes.
"Very good, very good. I have been paid to play in Cancun - at resorts. I do Pink Floyd, Billy Joel, the Beatles, classical - and transition seamlessly from one thing to another.."

I looked up at him skeptically. He looked like a tech- geek to me.
"Are you sure!?"
"Yes. yes." he assured me.
"Well, ok." I said (my brain was already half way to my next task of the evening - I was super under staffed and my Mom and sister were stranded across the street at the other gallery helping out ALL night!) …"But you better be GOOD!"

" I am. " he said, "Don't worry."
 Then he read my mind as I sent a worried glance towards the growing line for the bar. "Good party. A line for the bar is always a good sign!" ( he said this in the most encouraging way imaginable - I thought he might be making fun of me…but sensed ...not…?)

 Something in me stirred.
 The glasses, his voice (he sounded a little like Adam West from the original Bat Man series - EARLY childhood crush!), his tall frame, sweet brown eyes - and his BOYISH, HAPPY ENERGY!!!!

 I took my leave for the next event-related fire that had to be put out, but I could not shake the feeling of him.

 Across the street, my mother and sister were manning the other gallery like the pros that they are. The sitar player was amazing, there was still food left and a little beer (the wine had long since run out - that joint was jumpin' !) and the "Geishas" that I had signed up were getting ready to leave.

 I stayed for only minutes until I knew all was under control and made my way back to the bigger venue - the turn of the century theater turned into performance space and temporary art gallery/bar/sit- down Victorian, candlelit 5 course dinner in a secret, Masonic dining room.

I had tried to mention the super cute guy who mysteriously knew my name to my Mom and sister , but they were far too focused on telling me about their night of adventures to hear about a fleeting and 'unimportant' moment of fanciful adoration.

 Back at the theater, I started to hand out checks and cash to my performers and helpers. Things were still hopping, but the transition from party to DJ'd after party was underway.

 The tall man found me again.
 He put his hand on my waist and suggested that I should dance with him, "Have some fun.." he said.

 His hand felt like it was melting my skin right through my dress. I immediately wanted his hands (both of them) all over me. I looked at him and had at least 500 things race through my mind. All of them were good.

I wanted to dance with him.
I wanted to drink with him.
I wanted to kiss him and have his his hands ALL OVER me.
I wanted to know more about him.

But all I  knew at that very moment was that he seemed like a super sweet, happy guy - and he was TALL.

One of my artists, Isabelle, needed help getting her pastells down from a high spot on our "gallery" wall.

"Will you help Isabelle get her paintings down?" I asked him, trying to keep myself intact.

 "Yes. Yes I will. ", he assured me. "Right after I get another glass of wine. And you must dance with me!"

 I noddded 'yes' and disappeared into the green room, and then from the party before seeing him again.

 "He'll never find me", I lamented to my brother that morning at 2 am.
"He only knows my first name…."

"You liked him, hu..?"  Marcus said, sweetly.

"Well, I don't KNOW him, but…yea. Yea. I liked him. I really liked him. "  ( I couldn't stop FEELING his hand on my waist)

 "Awww, that's too bad. " Marcus said, sleepily.  "I got a good look at him. He seemed like a good guy. I got a good vibe. "

 I nodded and put my head on my little brother's shoulder. We've been there for one another through the thick and thin of love. The 2 muskateers.

"Well, maybe he'll find you, Jennifer. Maybe he'll find you."

TBC…….