The Starbucks Hustle
I walked up to Starbucks and arrived just as a group of young men were getting out of their vehicles and walking towards the entrance. They looked like they were "cool."
They agreed to let me put their stuff on my giftcard in exchange for "cash of a lesser value."
I sat and drank my coffee and read a newspaper, as the skies opened up and it rained for about 45 minutes. I had 7 bucks in my pocket.
The Mercury Dime Is Still Unsold
I then walked the additional mile towards where I had seen a coin dealer. I was within a block of the place, when a man on a bike called to me, then approached.
He said that he had seen my picture on his daughter's Facebook page. I figured that he must have referred to Emily, the violinist who I jammed with one day, and then never saw again. She did "friend" me on Facebook, though.
"I'm Emily Pierce's dad," he said. Then he asked me how I knew Emily.
I told him the story of how Emily and I met. I added that the reason that she disappeared, I thought, was that, since she is only 17, her dad probably forbade her to play music downtown, especially at night, and especially with a guitar player 30 years her senior.
He confirmed my suspicion to the letter.
We had a friendly chat, over lunch, which he bought me at Popeye's Chicken.
He said that he would consider letting Emily play with me, if he would be sitting nearby, keeping an eye on things.
I made it back to town in time to see people roaming about, taking in the artwalk.
I quickly found a spot and started playing and made a few bucks.
Along came a woman with a camera and took a few pictures of me. Her name is Kim, and she said that she would send me the pictures through e-mail. She sat next to me for a while and invited me to come along with her and her friends along the artwalk. I declined, stating that I needed to go wash up, because I had sweat profusely during my 5 miles of walking, almost to the coin dealer's and back. I was surprised that she sat so close to me. She seemed to be pretty "lit up." I think she was flirting. She looked like a wealthy lady; perfect teeth and skin, with an even tan, all the way to her sandaled toes. I hope she sends the pictures.
The artwalk died down, and by 10pm., I was spending some of it's proceeds on a pack of smokes and the last couple beers of the day. Then I went to the abandoned convent spot, washed up and layed down.
The Hotel Gig
Now, I will walk down to the Mobile Bay Adventure Inn, to see if the manager wants me to play, either this evening or tomorrow. The oil cleanup people have not contacted me, which isn't surprising, because I have no phone. I might try the labor pool on Monday, to see if I can work for money to go with the hotel gig money, to buy a phone, and possibly some steel-toed boots, though, I would rather buy an i-pod, so I can learn a bunch of songs more easily.