Every girl loves a musician.

25 09 2007

Here in Hotlanta, everyone’s a musician or a wannabe or a dj.  You encounter at least one of the above daily.  Yesterday on the bus home from work, I sat down next to Glenn G, wearing all black, black sunglasses, and a black golfers cap.  He is the lead singer/bassist in a funk band that I promised to check out someday.  Today on the elevator, a muscular black man in a throw back jersey was trying to pawn off his poetry jazz demo tape to a strangely dressed black man wearing sunglasses, a braves cap, a falcons jersey, a gucci travel bag, and carrying a Dallas Cowboys’ football helmet. 

Since moving to ATL, over 20 assorted men have introduced themselves to me as a DJ of some sort, and I have yet to receive a mix tape!  That’s all I’m asking for!  I couldn’t even get my ex-boyf. to make me one, even after I helped him untangle a mess of wires from his turn-table setup.  Sigh.

I can’t explain to you why girls love musicians.  We just do.  Even if a man plays the kazoo, we’ll take that and cherish it.  Even if a man played the banjo back in the fifth grade, we’ll ignore the dorky insinuations and sigh dreamily, hoping that his once musical talent may one day resurface into a glorious serenade.  I don’t actually know if a banjo serenade would be any good, but every girl loves a good serenade. 

I myself have only been serenaded once.  It was on a train from Munich to Daccau, about 2 years ago.  I was traveling with this guy Andrew, who was so cool and so much fun.  Upon discovering that I didn’t know a single Johnny Cash song, he sang me every song he knew, which lasted the entire train ride.  Somehow, the Germans didnt seem to mind since he sang it well with a deep voice. It was a full train, and he was the only one standing in our train car, with his leg propped up on a ledge, posed in the Captain Morgan style.  It was the best! 

Sidenote on Andrew:  one of the coolest guys ever.  One of the only men I regret not having kissed.  One of the only men in my bustling Munich hostel that didn’t try to kiss me.  One of the man-liest, most polite texas gentleman ever.  Big as a lumberjack, always carried me with him to the front of the line.  Talked cars, drank beer, ate schnitzel (deep fried porkchops)  every day for a week.  We’d wake up, head to the Augustiner brewhaus (the best) have lunch, drink dark tasty Bavarian beer, walk the city, take a nap, wake up for happy hour at the hostel, drink alot of Paulaner, then find random misfits to troll the night with.  Definitely one of the best weeks ever. 




2 responses

25 09 2007

now that’s a sidekick!!

25 09 2007
Viet Huynh

Man…musicians always get all the love. Not much love for the comedians. I can’t just walk up to a girl and be like “A white guy, a black guy, and an Asian guy walk into a bar…” It just doesn’t work that way. And I would have to say that the loving of musicians is restricted to the string and percussion instruments. I’m assuming the keyboard player doesn’t get as much play.

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