irresponsibility, epitomized

Last night I had a decision to make. I could go home and do the homework for my class today, which isn't so much homework as attempting-to-start-a-career work, or I could go straight from work work to the free Rainer Maria show at Arlene's Grocery. Go on, take a wild guess.... Ding ding ding! At 6:45 E and I found ourselves cozied up to the bar at Arlene's tapping the Rockies and waiting to be called into the room with the stage, which we'd just barged into as the band did their soundcheck. Woops, sorry guys. Once we were actually allowed into the room, I knew I'd made the correct decision.

The band's set was, as they say, tight. All three members displayed loads of talent, both technically and performance-wise. They're like Sleater-Kinney with some dudes, or, as E put it, "rock Tori Amos." Or they're good enough to warrant their own descriptive that I am not skilled enough to come up with. Wait, I know! Rainer Maria is so good, E and I paid rapt attention in spite of the tall smelly dude jumping around in front of us who was wearing part of a denim pants leg as a headband and had drawn a unibrow and a giant sun tattoo on his face with black marker, and had earlier been yelled at by the bouncer for brown-bagging outside the entrance to the bar.

The correctness of my decision was even further confirmed when I arrived home. I turned on the main light. Darkness. I turned on the kitchen light. Still dark. Opened the fridge....Oh shit. Yes, I'd forgotten to pay my utilities bill. Since it was already after 10:00, this wasn't too much of a travesty. I propped the door open with my purse and sat in the hallway eating crappy takeout sushi and reading Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, which I'd been resisting for a long time but finally picked up. Not bad, not bad at all. Chuck Klosterman, feel free to Gmail me if you wanna get married or whatever. I hope my frozen dinners are unharmed.