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Who put the man under ice on Christmas Day?
I found a small underprivileged school in St. Thomas and gave a free lesson on basic music theory and a brief classical piano concert the day before I was supposed to come home. I extended my trip an extra few hours to take in a section of Puerto Rico I'd never been to before and came back to New Orleans feeling like I'd been away a month rather than an extended long weekend.
One of the first things I did when I got back was visit Laura at the gas station. The place was dead so I stayed in the convenience store part and talked to her.
"Peter agreed to drop off Facebook altogether," was the first thing Laura said to me. "He explained that these three women had such low self-esteem he felt obligated to say things to bring them up, he wasn't really flirting or trying to start something."
"Ah-huh," I said. I was beginning to feel like this was my main response to all my friends.
I had bought a pre-made ham sandwich from the gas stations' cooler and I was eating it while Laura talked. I was eating it really slowly so I looked like a patron instead of just a loiterer.
"He said he liked helping them so much maybe he'd go back to school for counseling."
"Hhm," I said.
"Don't you think that's great?"
"Argh," I said. "I never comment on anyone's career plans. If you think that's great than I think that's great."
"Well I think that's great," Laura said.
"Then I do too," I said.
"So everything is hunky-dory, and his friends are going to play Bob Marley and Travis Tritt tunes at our wedding, and his mom said she would lend me her dress if I wanted, although I don't know if I do. So I think everything is great and life is just grand."
"Okay," I said.
"I decided we're going to have fried chicken wings for the wedding. We can make them ourselves to save money."
Oh God help us.
Adrianna: Regarding the Mystery Man
I supposed it was only a matter of time before I found myself on the sidewalk outside of Bee's House of Blues. I had known approximately where it was. I guess my subconscious was wondering the streets, guiding my feet until I was staring at the poster of mystery man and his band. It was a black and white publicity shot. He was wearing a fedora, a long trench coat, dark glasses, and looked strait out of a Mickey Spillane novel. I reached out and touched the poster. The concerts were every Monday and Thursday. Shows started at 9:15 PM.
I could dress up and go. Look like a Mickey Spillane moll myself. I walked away thinking about it. The poster said the name of the band but not his name, so I still didn't know. Would it be so bad to show up? My chest pressed in on itself, the familiar sensation like an elephant was sitting on my heart, the one I always got when I was conflicted. I wanted to know this guy but I didn't want to step out on a limb even to go see him play when I hadn't been specifically invited. I said that I wasn't looking right now. That was true, wasn't it?
I walked around mulling it over. Why don't the right decisions just pop out at me? I decided going home and eating coffee ice cream might help.
It didn't. The next night I decided eating more coffee ice cream might make the choice a little clearer. Over 1,000 calories later I was still conflicted.
Early the next evening Laura and Peter hosted a game night at their apartment. Shayla and Jennifer came. It was the first time I had seen Jennifer in a while. She beat everyone at Yatzee, Trivial Pursuit, and draw-and-act your charades proving again that she's sharper than the rest of us. Jennifer regaled us of stories of her life up North with the trials and tribulations of catty colleagues, snow storms, and back-stabbing producers. Then she had us laughing until I had tears rolling down my face.
I had to admit it was good to have her back with the gang.
Angela and Burt were all over each other during the whole night, kissing at every right answer (theirs and everyone else's).