Mr. Wrong

Mr. Wrong looked wrong to me from the beginning. My sister was scoping out the guys from the band to see if any of them were cute. This is in Austin - a year and change ago. South by South West..we were throwing a little 3 day party with bands and beer to open her new coffee shop. I had booked a couple of bands from LA...and we were scoping out the cool band that was about to be signed by Universal/Motown from up in her second story area - felt like the crows nest of a ship. We had a good view of all of them as they bustled around unloading their equipment.

"The died blonde guy is cute.." my sister said, "and the guy with the short black hair. He's really cute. You know me. I like clean cut looking guys. Do they have girlfriends?"

"ummm.." i replied.."the one with the short dark hair I think does. Back in LA. But I'm not sure, they may be broken up. The died blonde is free and clear."

"Hmmmm..." my cute little sister replied..."VERRY interesting..."

A short time later I had the opportunity to let blondie (Mr. Wrong) know with probably (knowing me) a not too subtle hint that my little sister might be interested in him.

Mr. Wrong proceeded to waste no time at ALL in trying to woo my baby sister by following her around like a homeless puppy, asking her if she needed any help, helping her with anything she needed. My brilliant sister put him right to work, of course. Lifting things, carrying things, putting away stuff that had to go on high shelves (he was and is tall)...it was pretty funny to watch.

But as I watched him help her out with such ....what IS the word? almost desperation, really....I started to think he was kind of cute. Despite the horrible fried blonde hair.