Tuesday night Sue and I bombed up to Provincetown to see the Gold Dust Orphans at the Crown and Anchor. Always interesting to go to Provincetown at the height of the summer season. I could feel the stares, and for one night it's kind of funny. Not sure if I'd want to put up with it every day.
God, I would feel so cheap.
Usually Sue's the one who attracts attention...she's so pretty and her hair's so wild and her smile so infectious that people can't help but be attracted to her. Saturday night, though, during intermission at the Shawn Colvin/John Hiatt concert, I went to the toilets. Actually, I didn't even go; I walked over to the men's room, saw the line, and said, forget it. I was gone maybe a minute. In that time, Sue told me she heard some guy say, hey angel. She didn't look around, but then the voice said, nice hair. She assumed he was talking to her since, well, her hair is wild and red and curly. She said she never made eye contact with him, just this disembodied voice haunting her.
She told me this when we got back to our seats. Not sure why she waited until then. Not sure what I would have done either, but I'm not one to back down in a situation like that. Maybe she was avoiding trouble. Maybe she was just thrown by the whole thing. But when it comes to Sue and me, it always will come out. One of our greatest strengths is that we can talk.
Cause there's something about what happens when we talk
Something about what happens when we talk
Conversation with you was like a drug
It wasn't your face so much as it was your words
Cause there's something about what happens when we talk
Something about what happens when we talk
And together we're a force to be reckoned with. I thought for a second; I could see she was worried. After all, her life has been threatened more than once because of her job. So I told her if it happens again, I'll hold the son-of-a-bitch and she can kick the shit out him. She does kick box, after all. Finally she could put all that working out to good use.
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