Oh, it breaks my heart to see you this way

Well, fuck.
Here I was all set to go out and have an evening at the club catching a show. I'd spent all day psyching myself into going out. Finally, I got all excited and was totally looking forward to the show. I got into the car, drove across town and almost got into a car accident since I didn't realize I was on a two lane road. The only problem was that it didn't have two lanes, not really, so I'm not sure why that other car was trying to drive by me. But I'm pretty sure if we had collided it would've been my fault. Which is neither here nor there. Nothing happened. I got parked and walked over to City Hall-all excited and feeling more punk rock than usual and...the show was sold out.
Well, fuck.
Nothing to do about that. I turned around and went back to my car. A bunch of punk guys were standing around in the parking lot. One was playing with a skateboard. Mostly they just looked annoyed. I walked towards them, prompting skateboard guy to put up his board and a couple of them to straighten up. Aren't punk boys, cute? They're so polite under their 'I'll kick your ass if you look at me funny' exterior. Or maybe it was my "East Nashville Bail Bonds" shirt, to an outsider that might give the impression I was a bail bondsperson and thus a big time hard ass. Once the largest and burliest of the bunch had determined I was not in the bonding business (I didn't tell them I was a librarian either-I want to keep some street cred here) they returned to slouching and asked me where they could find some sweet bud in this town. Uh...sorry, dudes. Dunno.
I bummed a fag off of one of them and we commiserated. They'd driven from Alabama and didn't have a show to go to. I didn't even miss Bones or American Idol before the disappointment. They decided to go down to Broadway and listen to some hillbilly band butcher Johnny Cash. I decided to come home and watch South Park.
I'm bummed man. That ain't right. I never get myself out of the damn house. Especially not on a school night. And then to be disappointed. Life. Is. So. Unfair.
At least I've got Black 47 on Saturday week. That'll rock my socks. And remind me that I'm not lame all the time. The downside of that is that Mik's Sunday show is at 2 in the afternoon. I'll have to be up and out by 10:30. Harsh toke, dude.
We've got a manager at work. She's Canadian. I assume she's white. I don't see color. And I only see American. So I don't actually know. She's 40 and single and thus everything I kind of presumed the Boss Lady hated. I think I'm going to get along with her. Dunno. She's only been there one day and now she's on vacation and then I'm going on vacation a week from today. It'll be almost two weeks before we work a full week together. But if she keeps us busy doing weeng and shelf reading and in general getting that library looking decent I'll be happy. And I'll make myself indespensible. Then they'll have to hire me. Or, they'll let me do all the grunt work for the nothing they pay me and then, when it's done, hire someone else.
That's all I've got.
Very exciting shit here.