Last night, I had both a wonderful time and one of the worst nights in recent memory. I went to see Ben Adkins, who was really, really good live. He has an excellent voice, and he played all the songs I considered favorites. Plus, he is super nice in person! If you ever get a chance to catch him or One Second Hero live, be sure and do so.
I should have known, however, that something disastrous would happen last night. I had been too excited and happy about finally getting to go to a show for nothing to go wrong.
About 3/4 of the way through the show (I was sitting at a table in the very front of the cafe), the girl I was sitting with got up to go to the bathroom. When she did, one of the waiters grabbed the chair she had been sitting in. When the girl came back, she had no chair at all. Finally, I noticed that the waiter had vacated the chair, and I jumped up quickly to retrieve it. Big mistake. Somehow, the tablecloth caught on my clothes or my shoe or both, and the whole thing swept off the table, along with my camera, my keys and an empty beer bottle. Thankfully, the bottle didn’t break, nor did my camera, and there wasn’t anything messy on the table to clean up. However, it made a horrendous crash, much to the amusement of everyone. I could have died. I could have literally crawled under the table and died.
The next step of disaster occured after my husband arrived. I was quite glad to see him, to have someone to comfort me as I writhed in humiliation. We stuck around the cafe for a bit after the show, talking to the nice girl who had been sharing my table. She was going to head to a local bar afterwards, and I decided that I wanted to go as well. We dropped off my husbands car at a nearby place that we considered safe, and headed to the bar. We had one beer there, chatted with the girl, and decided to head home. Now, I was considerably tipsy at this point, but I wasn’t drunk. However, I had consumed a few different types of beer that evening, because the cafe had offered a huge selection and I always want to try new beer given the opportunity. We got back to where my husband left the car, and he decided that he wanted to drive my truck and he would let me drive his car. I hopped in the car and started to put the key in the ignition, when someone came running across the road, yelling that his car was on fire and he needed water. He was calling 911, and I ran to the building where we were parked to try to get some water. I got back outside, and gave the water to the young man. The fire trucks arrived, the (small) fire was put out, and all was ok. That is, until I turned to get into the car. My husband, when I left to go get the water, had opened the car door, locked it, and closed it again, not realizing that I did not have the keys with me. We do not have an extra set. At this point, I was full of adrenaline from having ran frantically to get this guy some water, still recovering from my humiliation at the cafe, and now, seriously pissed because we were going to have to call a locksmith in the middle of the night. We called said locksmith, and proceeded to wait until he arrived. In the meantime, I continued to yell at my husband for locking the damned car, and he proceed to yell back. Well, not actually yelling, but we were pretty damned emphatic. We finally stopped fighting, or I stopped bitching, rather, and we settled down to wait. As the adrenaline ebbed, I began to get nauseous. REALLY nauseous. So of course, to top off the evening, I got violently sick. I don’t know if it was the mixture of the beer or a combination of the rest of the evening, but I was sicker than I remember being in a long time.
So that was my lovely evening, boys and girls. I am seriously thinking about never showing my face in public again.
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