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four minutes 19 seconds of my weekend
Nov. 17th, 2003 11:24 amYesterday afternoon, I went to go see Orange Hat play in the parking lot in front of Circle Sky Records. I had been working on my car and didn't have time to change before I left, so I was disheveled and liberally smeared with black oil.
I stood in the back with Michael and Sheila and their boys. Halfway through their set, Christo stopped his in-between song banter and instructed everyone to clap because "Barry White" had arrived.
He motioned to a skinny blond white guy standing about 15 feet away.
The look on my face must have been priceless. Michael said, "What is it?"
I explained that I dated a skinny blond white guy actually named Barry White in high school - we went to the prom together. I wondered if it was the same guy, I mean how many could there be?
While the band hammered out "Octopus Sauce" I tried to examine the guy as closely as possible without being obvious. I considered the possibilities of this being the same person and felt a little strange. I have never stumbled across a former lover before. I am loathe to admit the chances of it are incredibly low. Getting men to have sex with me in my youth was like trying to find a Key lime tree in Iceland.
To be honest Barry and I never had sex in the official sense of the word, but we sinned it up pretty well by most churchy standards.
I was reveling in the experience, since it was so new for me. Finally the suspense was more than I could bear and I walked over and asked if his name was really "Barry White."
He smiled and said no, that was a joke the band likes to make. His name was Barry Wright. I explained politely why I had asked and said I was sorry for bothering him, shook his hand and slid my sunglasses back down onto my face.
While I walked back to my original spot, the song had come to an end. There was a smattering of applause and in the second of silence after it died out he actually yelled out across the parking lot with a quirky adolescent quaver in his voice - "Wait!... I'm single!"
Michael was smirking.
"THAT was a beautiful moment."
I stood in the back with Michael and Sheila and their boys. Halfway through their set, Christo stopped his in-between song banter and instructed everyone to clap because "Barry White" had arrived.
He motioned to a skinny blond white guy standing about 15 feet away.
The look on my face must have been priceless. Michael said, "What is it?"
I explained that I dated a skinny blond white guy actually named Barry White in high school - we went to the prom together. I wondered if it was the same guy, I mean how many could there be?
While the band hammered out "Octopus Sauce" I tried to examine the guy as closely as possible without being obvious. I considered the possibilities of this being the same person and felt a little strange. I have never stumbled across a former lover before. I am loathe to admit the chances of it are incredibly low. Getting men to have sex with me in my youth was like trying to find a Key lime tree in Iceland.
To be honest Barry and I never had sex in the official sense of the word, but we sinned it up pretty well by most churchy standards.
I was reveling in the experience, since it was so new for me. Finally the suspense was more than I could bear and I walked over and asked if his name was really "Barry White."
He smiled and said no, that was a joke the band likes to make. His name was Barry Wright. I explained politely why I had asked and said I was sorry for bothering him, shook his hand and slid my sunglasses back down onto my face.
While I walked back to my original spot, the song had come to an end. There was a smattering of applause and in the second of silence after it died out he actually yelled out across the parking lot with a quirky adolescent quaver in his voice - "Wait!... I'm single!"
Michael was smirking.
"THAT was a beautiful moment."
