I went out with my friend Binkles tonight. It was weird being out with his friends. I didn't really think he had that many. I know, that's a terrible thing to say, but it's true. I mean, he's 29 and lives with his parents for god's sake! So here's the lowdown on the table:
To my right, a tall (5'8" or so) girl who had all the right equipment, but apparently didn't read the owners' manual. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of chestnut brown that appeared to be natural and, unfortunately, completely lacking in style. What should have been rich, glimmering waves was instead a limp, over-conditioned and under-styled shoulder length head covering. She seemed to have a fairly pretty face, but it was hiding behind a cheap pair of over-sized plastic-framed glasses that screamed "I'm missing bingo for this, so make it good." Her attire consisted of a frumpy cardigan in a regrettable shade of light blue, baggy stone-washed jeans and a pair of fairly stylish black strappy sandals with (Oh the humanity!) white gym socks.
Across the table was the most depressed girl I've ever seen. Not that "Oh, poor me, I'm so sad" surface depression that the goth kids seem to have perfected, but an actual depression. It both fascinated and concerned me; and then it concerned me that I was fascinated. Other than her depression, there were only three things that stood out about her. One; there was something wrong with her forehead. It protruded a bit, but only on one side; like maybe she'd been dropped on her head when she was a baby. Two; she had a really tiny waist for the size of her ass. I'd be willing to bet her waist was under 25", but her ass was easily double that. A bit of a shocker when she stood up, almost cartoonish in size. And three; she is desperately in love with they guy sitting next to her and he (of course) has no clue she exists. Probably explains her depression.
So who was sitting next to her? A tall, lanky, funny guy who seemed to enjoy telling anecdotes that kept most of the table giggling, even though it was fairly obvious that his goal was really to entertain the chunky-but-pretty blond next to him. She, unfortunately for the tall skinny guy, was wearing a wedding ring. Although I did not get the impression she was actually married. For one thing, it was just a plain band, not an engagement set. Not that that's completely unheard of, but she didn't really seem like the type to swim that completely against the stream. But the kicker was that she didn't correct the person who said "your boyfriend..." She seemed personable enough, with her major dettractant being a laugh that brought to mind not the traditional hyenas but instead a flock of agitated emus. The truly bizarre thing though was that the girl next to her had the exact same laugh. Which was actually rather fortunate for her as it is the only thing that distinguishes her from any other guitarist girlfriend.
Which brings us to the guitarists. First of all, they were the most talented "come see my friends play" players that I've ever been talked into seeing. And they appeared to have stepped straight out of the early 90's. One looked like Matt Dillion in Singles, complete with frizzy hair and the vacuous, dorky laugh. The other seemed to be cultivating a Jesus of Suburbia sort of look that was helped along by long, wavy, golden brown locks, a goatee just long enough to be "rock and roll" instead of "trendy", and a rosary. Yup, a rosary. I haven't seen anyone who wasn't also wearing a habit wear a rosary in public since Madona hit the scene. When I saw a glass of water come his way from the waitress' tray I thought perhaps he was thinking of skimping on his bar tab. Predictably, his jeans were more holes than coverings, some from wear but others obviously contrived. It wouldn't have surprised me in the least to find out he'd shown up in a Camero SS with T-tops, graduation tassel bouncing joyously under the rear view mirror.
And I haven't even started with the rest of the bar patrons...
