we are scientists
We're upstairs at the Black Cat. Shaun is by my side and Dean has wandered off to get drunk. My shoes are already stuck to the floor, but the crowd is thin and it's early enough to cruise the merch table for another cute band t-shirt or an art poster I probably won't hang in my new place.
I stand over the table, fingering buttons I'm sure will end up on some hipster girl's purse by morning, and then look back up to address the merch agent. He's bent over a t-shirt bin, holding his fidora on his head, barely paying attention. An attractive rear view, but really, he's only the merch guy.
"So you have plenty of posters, right?" I say, hoping I won't have to hold on to it for the entire show, beating off the crowd, or worse, uncrumpling it from a sweaty drunken guy's arm pit.
"Actually, that was the last one," he says, turning around, meeting my gaze.
I had spat out an "Oh," in disappointment, but tacked on a "wow" the second he faced me. Cue extensive internal blabbering and drivel: "Hey, you do realize, don't you, I mean of course you do, that you're um, the lead singer of one of my favorite bands ever, gosh you're pretty, pretty and talking to me, and oh my god I've done dirty things to your voice in several states, hi, be my husband!"
Thankfully, my mouth translated this to "Hey, I heard you guys really rocked it at the Bowery Ballroom last night." Keith smiled and said "Yeah, we killed it!"
A pair of 16 year old German au pairs agree to take our photo, but soon get annoyed when they realize we're gay as we bounce around excitedly. Shaun presents his shoe, which Keith signs with a flourish. Dean returns and is happy the t-shirts are American Apparel brand, and we note that his girls' medium sets the text "Scientists" perfectly centered between his nipples. He also declares to Keith that their first album was much better.
I'm not sure how I have a voice today. We screamed and sang a lot. I bounced up and down with adrenaline I must have stored up by not having sex for months. I think I listened to these boys non-stop in 2006 and for a good portion of 2007. And the witty, male-on-male banter made it all the better. During the middle of the show, Keith came into the crowd and stood right by us. Pictures to follow, of course. It was just a fun, fun time.
Afterward, we rushed around the rooftop at Nellie's, packed as it always is. It seems like I run into
positron and
dipdewdog every week now. There wasn't any time to talk, we were off to Taint, and after my morning habanera session, I really let the moves fly (at one point leaning into Shaun and saying "tell me I'm not making a fool of myself." He laughed and said "no, you're being fucking adorable.") There was an equally short gentleman also pumping it hard, and as we were leaving, Shaun pulled out the bravery and said we really enjoyed watching him and his friend. Just as skillful as I was earlier in the night, I only managed to blurt out "yeah, you guys were really cute." They got big grins on their faces and said "We enjoyed watching you, too." We left it at that.
On the ride home, I tell Shaun he's brave. I'm the dater out of the two of us, but he's the one who actually does the approaching. And yet he says he's scared. He has really nice guys after him. For some lucky reason he doesn't get assholes. And it sort of petrifies him that he might screw something up. I think he just needs someone to really sweep him up.
Meanwhile, I have a date with a piano-playing, partially Persian law student from Philly who reads X-Men and loves Fiona Apple on Tuesday. how potentially adorable is that?