(diaryland) February 21, 2003 - 8:12 p.m.

Some weird shit happened last night.

I saw May for the first time since she got back from her holiday. She took me to see this dude with a guitar from New York called Jesse Marlin or something.

He played some songs which sounded alright. He told amusing stories in between. I clapped politely.

Then, he came off the stage and went up to me specifically asked me if it had sounded alright.

He was like, "There wasn't too much feedback, was there? Do you think they want me to play some more?"

I was like, "Uh... yeah. It sounded great, etc." As you do when someone comes off the stage and randomly asks you if it sounded OK.

So after my all-important go-ahead, he played an encore. I kind of felt sorry for the people up the front who had a clue who the hell this guy was and were huge fans and stuff. They looked jealous at me.

Then, May and I hung around near the dressing room. This is what May always does. She always needs to get her CD signed by the artist. She brings the CD, all tucked away neatly in her bag, and at least three pens. One time, she had a scare when she got someone to sign a CD and none of the pens worked. So, she has to bring a lot of pens.

Anyway, finally, Jesse Marlin appeared out of the dressing room and asked us what we were up to later on. I'm not quite sure what he wanted us to do with him. It was weird.

May asked me, "Hey, man. Should we invite him out for a night on the town tomorrow night?"

I was like, "Uh. I dunno, man. What the hell would we do?" I was not into the idea.

So, anyway, we graciously decided that we should not take up too much of this music guy's time, and retreated. We sat down on a little couch.

I went to the bar, and this old dude tried to pick me up.

Then I sat back down, and this red-head dude tried to pick me up. He touched my hair a lot. It was freaky.

Now, being a red-head myself, the mere thought of two red-heads in some kind of relationship made me feel physically ill. I mean, man, come on. Wouldn't you point and laugh if you saw two red-heads walking down the street, holding hands or some shit? It's insane. It's like marrying your own mother or something.

I don't know.

It was crazy as fuck. I was tired, hungry and wearing an ugly green shirt with blue oil paint smeared all over the front, but I was the centre of the goddamn universe for some reason.

Finally, I dragged May out of there, and we ate dinner at 12:30 AM. I was hungry as fifteen buffalo by then. I went home to my fluffy, soft Roland. I got to sleep at 2:30 AM.

I had to work the next day.