Saturday, July 22, 2006

A Night With Heidi (Finally!)

WARNING: This post is going to be very chatty and sporatic. We talkin' about my girl now so....yeah. AND blogspot deleted my 1st 2 attempts.

So I'm on the phone with NeighborGirl talking and looking for the jazz spot. I find it, peek thru the window and "Oh my God. That's Heidi! Gotta go..." and abruptly closed the celly shut. I walk in, and I must have had the stupidest look on my face because she immediately smiled at me. The convo with me, Heidi, and my innards went something like this:
Heidi:Hi! Thanks for coming.
Me:**stupid grin and mumbling something incomprehensible**
Innards:rwaaarrwwwwaw...RRRWWA!!
Heidi:**smile** How did you find out about the show?
Me:Uh....I got the thing, the uh...in da emails. Uh...
Heidi:You mean the flyer?
Me:Yeah, YEAH! Yeah, son...I mean...yes. I'm on your mailing list so I saw the flyer and decided to come out.
Heidi:Really? I have you on a mailing list? Wow....when did you get on the list?
Me:Well...I...uh...signed up for the list a while ago.
Heidi:**smile** Oh ok. I thought you saw my myspace page.
Me: You have a myspace page? Damn I hate that site.
Heidi: Yeah, I hate it too, but its so easy to use, it’s a good way for musicians to stay in touch, and I can make announcements without using the email broadcast. **shrugging shoulders**
Me: Great…now I have to create a page just so I can see what’s going on with YOU! **smile** As a matter of fact, I’ll make it when I get home.
Heidi: Alright. I’ll check and see tomorrow. I’ll be looking for it. **smile**
Innards: rwgrwgragarea---awwww-RWRARRR!
Me: YEAH! I mean, yeah. The thing is about the mailing list, I did it a while...let me just say it. I've been trying to keep tabs on your performances for a few years now, and this is the 1st one I've gotten to see since Blues Alley.
Heidi: **gasping** You remembered me from THAT performance? Wow, that WAS a long time ago! That is so sweet! **touching my arm**
Innards: OhmyGodshetouchedme, ohmyGod. Reduce blood flow to lower extremities and take evasive measures! We gotta keep this dummy from tipping over!
Me: **gulp** Yeah I guess. It’s just really good to see you live again. **shifting nervously back and forward**
Innards: **dizzat throbs twice**
Heidi: Why, thank you! It's nice to know that I've kept a fan for such a long time.
Innards: RWAWAAWWRRRR
Me: Garsh. Umm...I'm going to let you finish setting up and I'll set...uh...over here...on this long this thing. BENCH! I'll be over here on the bench. Well, not like in baseball...this bench over here. Yeah. Uh,....have a great set.
Heidi: Ok! See ya!
Innards: Hurry to the bench! HURRY TO THE BENCH!!! We are loosing control of major bodily functions!!!

So I quickly stammered to the bench to gather my bearings. I let my heart rate decrease by checking out my surroundings. It was a typical DC yuppie place; marble bar, tiny rest rooms, small kitchen to serve tapas, floor space for sitting not dancing, and a slightly elevated stage for performers. On the brick walls were pictures of people from the African and Indian Diaspora; REAL freaky. All of them had this blank stare into the camera that was truly unnerving. The crowd was mixed but dominated by lesbians, mostly manly women with a few lipsticks thrown in.
The band then began to play; the music de jour were 2 heavy r&b’ed up jazz pieces, not bad. Not my thing, but I was listening. Then…
“Ladies and gentlemen, now making her way to the stage, the talented Miss Heidi Martin.” She walked on the stage and thanked us all for being there. After a little pow-wow on the stage, she began to sing “Black Ghandi”. Mmmm. That’s all I got to say about that. And as if her voice weren’t sexy enough, I noticed that she has this habit of humming/singing a song right before the band starts playing. Yummy. 3 songs were sung and we applauded the set. Heidi stepped off the stage, and sat right next….to ME! (Well, not exactly next to me; the bassist’s stepson was sitting next to me.)
Heidi: How was it? How was the sound?
Me:**looking at StepsonSon as if to say “dude, say something because I’m so tired of stammering.”
Step-sonSon:Oh it was good. The guitar was a little strong, but still a good set.
Heidi:** looking at me waiting for my input. **
Me:Well, yeah. He’s right. The place is small enough that it’s not that big of a deal, so it still sounds good. You might want to turn your mic up a bit though.
Heidi:Oh ok. Hmmm. I was wondering if you guys could hear me.
Innards: Get that stupid grin off of your face, boy! Damnit! We need a distraction but she is right here. Shit!
**celly rings**
Me: Ahh. I better take this…excuse me.

So I take the phone call outside where there was more cigarette smoke than inside. When I get back in, I just realized that I had someone sitting next to me for the past couple songs. Hmmm! A rather out of place looking woman; she had a conservatism about her that screamed civil employee. But nosey me had to find out more.
I was going to put in the dialogue about this convo, but it’s too long and is of no great consequence. I mean not to say that she was boring, but this is a Heidi post, HEIDI POST! Actually, it was a good convo. She’s a teacher (boom) with classical voice training. She actually got a lunch lesson from Heidi the next day.
So the last set began and both my new friend and I were struggling to keep our eyes open during the ungodly hour for a weekday night. The set went great sharing commentary with my new buddy. The STUPID, mad kool part was when the set was over and they were about to wrap things up when some dude yells, “Do another one!” The bassist goes “What do you want to hear?” Then. Silence. Impulsively, your boy BK shouts, “ Do a poem! Do a slam!” At this point, Heidi was in her chair packing her music and getting ready to roll out. Then she looks up, dead at me and says, “you want me to do a poem?”
Now….let me digress for a second here. Y’all remember that Whitney Houston video “Run to You” when she is in the white dress singing all seductively and the wind blowing thru her hair? Yea, that was me envisioning Heidi saying to me:

Heidi: **breathlessly** You….want me…to do a poem…for you my sexy dredded Nubian king? To put your soul, your spirit at ease…from the safety and comfort of my warm welcoming bosom…. The fruits of my….


MEANWHILE BACK AT THE CLUB, everyone was looking at me, but luckily they couldn’t see my engorged dizzat….

Innards: Wake up, jackass and answer her!!
Me:UH…YEAH! A poem.
**audience claps as Heidi agrees and steps to the stage**

Oh man! You talking about tight! Heidi did a poem while the band did a jazz number in b flat. It was a great way to end the night. I got in my car, with the biggest, pumpkin-eating smile on my face. I called PrettyPussy(Cat) and I must have sounded like an idiot talking all fast like BandCampGirl and squealing like a mouse dragging a trap. No Man Points last Tuesday; I left them all on the bench thingy at the club. Fuck it. I shared time and space Heidi. **sigh**

3 comments:

Wendy said...

Awesome! I love knowing how a guy feels. It's nice to hear it from the other side. Well written.

Anonymous said...

You did sound like the BandCampGirl. All giddy and shit... Wish I could have been there.

PrettyPussy(Cat)

Brother Kojak said...

Wendy: Thanks. I hope you like some of the other posts as well. Stay tuned in.

PP(C): hey, HEY! Fuck you. And you should be glad that you weren't there, I would have igged you most of the time. Heidi, man...HEI-DI!