hail fellows well met: Free Darko does reading in San Francisco; Fat decamps from couch to attend

I showed up a little early, because I am not actually late to everything all the time forever. The event: two men from FreeDarko in town to rap about their book, which, if you are reading this, I again implore you to buy. Moved through the door, had to stop instantly behind a stockstill trio of intensely charming dithering old ladies. Scored a bottle of Pabst & a shot of Powers that I most definitely did not need (then or ever) and moved to a stool by the wall to eyeball the little clots and clumps of strangers without talking to them, because I am shy.

I spared the world a live-tweeting, on account of I think fake interactions with absent friends are compelling and wonderful, but so is trying to experience things in solitude. I saw Shoals come in, recognizing him from one or another online photo, but didn't buttonhole him, thereby booting what is likely to be my life's only opportunity to generate an occasion about which I could truthfully say "I buttonholed Shoals". I am an idiot.

Anyways, the venue was chilly and a little noisy, and after a while a bouncer-dude was fiddling with the laptop behind the bar and the lights went all higgledy-piggledy. The lads (Eric Freeman & Shoals) chatted amiably, reasonably well facilitated by the editor dude whose name I didn't catch. They all sat, up on a sternum-high stage, proving by sitting during a performance once and for all that they are jazz men; rockers woulda stood! I taped it. Tape came out okay, I might do something with it (if the FD men don't mind).

I sat next to the nice old ladies. Occasionally one of them would ask me a question--later, she asked Shoals "DOES MY COUSIN J.A. ADANDE HAVE THIS BOOK YET?" It was awesome.

I cackled a few times. High points included a long-running but not convoluted sentence ending with (pause) "I'm done with this sentence" and "a lot of this is just me trying to figure out why I jump up and say 'oh shit' when I'm watching tv".

Eventually all things ended--as ever they must--and a lengthy interlude of HEAVY MILLING was entered into.

I lurked for a while, b/c somebody with a book to sign deserves their spot in line before somebody without (I had my book with me, but don't collect autographs¹).²

Eventually there was enough of a clearing that I wandered up & said howdy--Shoals said "I had a feeling that was you, b/c you rolled your eyes at something I said." As I mumbled something about having been working on the assumption that the stage lights would render me invisible, he pressed "Really? You're going to roll your eyes because I said Shaq was unique?"

Well, yeah.

I told that story to TWBGITW and she laughed hard and opined "You are not good at hiding your emotions."

I HAVE A WORLD-CLASS POKER FACE.

Having won that one, Shoals moved onto chat, I talked too much b/c I was drunk, and he beaked me mildly about a Large Project that I am doing in complete Slow Motion Mode. It is unsurprising that the two have Holding Court on lockdown; if they come to your town, show up.

Shoals laughed his ass off when I told him what I do for a living.³ Then it was time for them to engage in the ancient Japanese marital art of karaoke, time for me to get completely drenched on the ride home. While all this was going on: the 'Melo-less Nuggets slipped past the End-Stage Big Three Celtics;

Good show, FreeDarko. Thanks for coming out!

--Fat

¹I did have Billy Zoom give me an autograph after a show where he killed in 2002. Right after (ahem) I discovered X. ²Why did I bring the book, anyway? I don't know; I brought it b/c you bring your book to the event, right? So it...soaks up aetheric legitimacy? I don't fucking know.

³Confidential to my day job: suck it.

FreeDarko coming to our town to help us party down from the internet.