Gone With the Gin: a Tale Involving Alcohol and the Blues

Gate, latch on to the riff I'm going to put down.

Journey back with us to those Golden Days of Yesteryear, or at least this Wednesday, and dig my previously mentioned sitchee-ation concerning Ashley and my attempts to ask her out for coffee. Gate, you'll no doubt recall my efforts were on the Night Train to the Big Adios. Nowheresville, man. So Wednesday I once again see Ashley descending the stairs to the restaurant and we exchange greetings and once again I mull over another blown opportunity. Ah, but then she ascends the stairs to post a new menu in the bulletin board outside. This time I was not going to let the chance slip by ... otherwise I might just as well dig out my horn and play I Can't Get Started ... so as she was returning from the great outdoors I said stepped up and asked her out to coffee. Her reply was an instant "Yes!" (Like the Smiths song "Ask me I won't say no ...") We now have to co-ordinate schedules ... and Gate, you'll be the first with all the low down, Walter Winchell style.

I was surprised Gate to find that Farenheit 9/11 is playing at the downtown cinema up the street from where I work. I didn't expect it to be shown around here and I'm glad it's here. I think I'll go see it either Monday or Tuesday (or Wednesday ... then I could eat at Michael's again). When I left work this afternoon, there was already aline forming to see it.

So Gate, let's migrate up the calendar to more recent events, such as my pre-birthday party last night downstairs at Michael's. I thought it might be nice to get together and have a cocktail, celebrate Canada Day and my birthday later this weekend. The idea met with acclamation from all concerned. Even my boss wanted to come, which surprised me at the time. So towards the end of the work day it was becoming apparent that I was like a fifth wheel, especially as I kept glancing at my watch every twenty seconds. At fifteen minutes to closing Dan said "Paul, you're not here. Go downstairs and get started on the party." Which of course I did.

I oredered a paisley martini and was digging thereof when Sam arrived and showed me his latest photograph project, which was rather cool. By the time the gang upstairs arrived down below I was two-thirds into my paisley martini. The boss arrived just a few minutes later and insisted she buy me another drink. Kat then presented me with a birthday card Sa had made featuring a wonderful caricature of yours truly and featuring a couple of in-jokes which made the entire card wonderful and touching. At this point we began to get a bit raucous ... or raucousness was in the offing, I'm sure which ... and we adjourned to the larger dining room for a bigger table and a bit of privacy.

There we met up with Rene, one of the chefs, who was sitting with one of his guitars. I've seen Rene and his guitars often but I've never heard him play ... and in these sitchee-ations you don't know whether the cat's got the chops or not. Oh, did I mention that the second drink had arrived? It did. So Rene joined us and the boss coaxed him into playing. And the cat has chops. Serious chops. I was highly, highly impressed and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. Rene's a master at the slide guitar and I was immediately put in mind of Robert Johnson. A bit later Josh, another chef, joined us and it turned out he's a percussionist. He was keeping time on the table, but he was great, too. By this time, Gate, I was beginning to feel no pain and the boss's husband suggested I eat something and Angie was starting to fill up my water glass ... so I ate and drank water between martinis. And then the boss insisted I have another paisley martini and I was beginning to feel a bit like Jack London in John Barleycorn. Rene kept playing the blues and we discovered a mutual affinity for Robert Johnson and Django Reinhardt and the conversation was generally good. Did I mention that the food was excellent? Between the food and the water I managed to absorb, or dilute, the alcohol so that when the party broke up at nine-thirty I was sufficiently able to drive home ... and it's a forty minute drive, Gate.

So all in all, it's been a good week, a good party and tomorrow is the last Saturday shift I have to work and I'm looking forward to that.