magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Shannon's been in town for a couple of days, and now that it's the weekend and I'm not working, we had been planning on hanging out. 'A bunch of people are meeting at this gallery in Williamsburg, the RKL Gallery for an opening. Around 6 o'clock. I can give you the directions.'

'I've actually been there before,' I told her.

Chris came over, and we headed out there, but after getting off the L my sense of direction (and the location of the gallery) got all jumbled up and we walked un circles until I was able to get ahold of Shannon on her phone which doesn't work all that well in New York. 'I don't have a very good mental map of Williamsburg in my head,' I told Chris. It seemed as if he was pissed off about the whole situation, although maybe he was pissed off about something else, or maybe I was reading him entirely wrong. I actually kind of enjoyed the walk.

There were a bunch of RISD kids at the opening, beyond the ones that I was specifically expecting to see. Some of the art was nice, but it's always a little hit or miss with group shows. Especially at a gallery this small, but even at the Whitney Biennial, which is supposed to be the best of contemporary American art, there were only a half dozen pieces I liked.

Afterward we headed over to Pete's Candy Store for drinks. They've got a free barbecue on Saturday and Sunday nights during the summer, but no one seemed to know if the veggie burgers were vegan. I doubted it, and the other six people I was with, while all vegetarian, didn't care.

Similarly, I was kind of into the music, but Chris left to meet up with Becky, and Erika's high school friend Christian and his girlfriend Leila (who was much to cute for my own good) left, and no one else seemed to care.

Instead we walked a million blocks in the rain (to the subway, and after one stop on the subway back out in the rain) to get to a party that was actually closer to the bar that we were at than it was to the subway stop. On top of which I didn't really know anyone at this party, and was not drunk enough to just flow with it, and was soaking wet, and was still a little upset about leaving the bar to begin with.

I left early. And walked another million blocks back to the subway (it would have been about the same distance to walk home, if I had known the streets in Greenpoint). On the subway platform a guy who was about as wet as I was approached me. 'I saw your t-shirt, and I had to say hi,' he said. I was wearing my Sugar Plant shirt. 'I put out their first two records. And I definitely don't see many of those shirts around anymore.'

'I've had it about ten years,' I told him. 'I saw them at the Loud Music Festival in Northampton.'

'I was there. It was their second US show or something.'

'I just sort of fell in love with them. I bought the t-shirt and their first album, and a 7". At one point I played the 7" at 33 instead of 45, and slowed down it sounded exactly like Codeine, who were one of my favourite bands at the time.'

'Theirs too.'

My train arrived and cut the conversation short, he was headed in the opposite direction. Also, between the rain and the couple of drinks that I did have, I wasn't on top of it enough to remember the name of his label, Pop Narcotic, which did come to me after I sat down on the train. Which would make him Bill Peregoy, and he put out a bunch of great music in the early 90s.