Stood Up

Well, that can happen to a guy when the girl asks him out, has the loge tickets to the concert, and then never again calls or connects.

Journey with Peter Frampton and John Waite: last night, gone.

So I head to a bar to do shots of forgetfullness and some girl next to me won't stop bragging to me about the kick-ass Aerosmith concert she went to and how she met the band in this bar the past weekend and...and...and....

I said shots of forgetfulness.  After listening to her, I'm drinking doubles.

And then my inner spirit-guide started melodiously screaming at me: *Save yourself--no one else will.*

I think it enjoyed hearing itself in the drunk and empty echo chamber I had become.  Comfortably numb.

Lucky for me, I think my inner spirit-guide is suffering the worst effects of an otherwise tolerable hangover.  Serves it right for playing me for acoustics.  So today my spirit has no guide.  And I am feeling bad.  No, not *bad*...

BBaadD

So ready or not, here I come.