mrpinstripesuit

Spectacular. That, I believe, would be the defining term for my trip down to the bay.
That and wet, definitely wet.
So wet and spectacular. That about sums it all up.

I left Reno right on schedule at 8 am and made remarkable time, arriving at Berkeley around noon. I stopped at the marina there to get in a bit of flying, which actually worked out quite well as one of the people who was interested in my extra tickets called me just as I was packing up, from a short ways up the road. I dropped them off at his apartment just as the rain began. It did not cease until I hit some snow while returning over Donner Pass, but that is getting way to far ahead of myself. Is it not?

My first stop in the city was to hit a few of my favorite shops and look for a new coat. After some debate I ended back at my stand by and purchased a gorgeous new rain coat. Textured gabardine wool, black, in a full belted military style, a mid weight coat that should be more than adequate in any situation when fully secured, infinitely better than its predecessor. I also decided on a pair of bright blue gab trousers and what many people would consider a hideously colored rust orange shirt, french cuffed. The shirt actually looks splendid with the suit I had chosen for the evening, dark blue with salmon pink and, ta-dah, rust pin stripes. They also had a pair of cuff links which matched the suit and shirt perfectly.
With my goals attained, I jumped into Amoeba to grab some stuff from the list Patric had given me. That accomplished, I returned to my car and journeyed towards my hotel.
At 3:30pm, after checking in and a short walk, I procured a sandwich for myself and went back to the hotel in order to relax for a short time before preparing myself for the festivities soon to commence. As I had surmised, my new shirt was a perfect match for my suit, much better than the lavender shirt I had originally planned upon. Looking like a million dollars and feeling more than twice that amount, I had a salad at Original Joe's before progressing to the line outside of the venue in order to stand in the rain for an hour whilst awaiting my opportunity to enter. My new coat withstood the situation with great admirality and were it not for the moisture in the air and the occasional large drop splashing into my face from my shoulder, or impacting against the brim of my hat, I would have never known of the precipitation.

Brandie was having difficulties getting to the city all day and I ended u p leaving her ticket at the will call booth so that I might retire from the rain and warm my soul(not that it needed it, due to my new coat) with a spot of whiskey. a very cute young cocktail waitress was quite taken with my attire and every time she passed by made a point to inquire not only if I needed a drink, but specifically if I needed another Bushmill's (not a drop of Jameson's in the entire locale). And she was not the only one to compliment me on my dress. I was feeling quite exceptional when the lights darkened for the first band.
Sadly I was a bit disappointed with Blonde Redhead's performance. Nothing major was wrong, I was just not as impressed as I had led myself to believe I would be.

I finally met up with Brandie at the front of the stage in between the two band's sets. As I had suspected, this was to be a friendly night only, with not continuance of the previous meeting's goings on. As I had prepared myself for this situation I had no problem enjoying the entirety of Interpol's performance. In fact, not having any pressure upon myself made it even easier to do so.

The show was absolutely phenomenal and made even better by our location right in front of Daniel, the lead guitarist. He is a musician of my temperament, obviously dedicated, as shown by his level of artistry, and of the perfect attitude, as evidenced through the engaging smile which adorned his visage and the manner with which he moved. He was a stark comparison to Carlos, the female fans' obvious favorite. Carlos, at least to me, comes off as an aloof, pretentious prick, but I could be wrong. A possibility which I take only lightly as before the show, while walking from my dinner to the front of the Warfield, I stumbled (in the "occasioned upon" meaning, not the "crashed into one) through a quite heated argument between him and a young lady, who assumed and later had confirmed as his girlfriend. She was obviously inebriated, and the argument, at least that which I observed as I quickly walked past, centered around her instability and how it was upsetting the rest of the band. Now, I may not be the most perceptive of people, but it seemed to me that his main concern was not her behavior, but how it reflected upon him. Like I said, pretentious prick.

The show was over all too quickly and Brandie and I proceeded to find some sustenance, mainly her as I was not too hungry. We were dubbed the "swanky couple" as we entered the dinner, which made me walk a bit taller for a few moments, peacock that I can be. The conversation while we ate further cemented my opinion that this was a friendly meeting only, mainly due to the fact that the more we talked the more I realized that I wasn't too interested in her as anything other than that.

Refreshed with our light meal, we progressed to the after party club, where the decision to get some food was vindicated by the absence of a wait to enter the premises. After walking around with Brandie in her search for Carlos and the pure adolescence I felt about the groupie mentality she was exuding, I made my way to the bar. A fine decision in many ways, not the least of was that I ended up standing next to Daniel while awaiting our turn at service. My original opinion of him was enforced by the sincere, yet slightly uncomfortable way in which he handled people approaching him(myself included). Once again throwing himself in a very favourable, in my opinion, comparison with Carlos, who was busy posing for photos and making a big production out of his popularity. I offered to purchase his drink for him after thanking him for the performance earlier, but he quietly declined as he ordered his double Jameson's, further rasing my opinion of him, and disappeared into the crowd.
I made a small attempt to relocate Brandie, but after a few moments decided to just enjoy myself and hit the dance floor, where much enjoyment was had. As per my norm, I danced on my own for the vast majority of the night and while some company would have been nice, I was not at all concerned about it. I think I danced for a very brief period with someone from Suicide Girls, but I have no idea who she was(possibly Voltaire, but I am not certain for a variety of reasons).
At 2:30, soaked completely through my heavy wool suit I departed the club and walked Brandie to her car. She insisted upon giving me a lift for the two block to my hotel. Where I showered before watching a span of PBS until my eyes began to drift shut.

This morning I arose, showered again, and left San Francisco in the insistent rain. The entire drive home went exceptionally quick, especially when one considered the amount of precipitation I drove through. Luckily the rain stayed liquid until the last short bit of the journey and even then the roads stayed safe.

Now, I am about to get ready and head out for a while to study and listen to a friend perform at the nearby brewery. With any luck a spritely young lady might join me, but she mentioned in an e-mail while I was gone that she is feeling a bit under the weather, so I am not expecting to see her.