Sunday, April 27, 2014

59 Dollar Saturday

4 Solid Hours Of Busking
Fueled By Kombucha!
Saturday night, I got to the Lilly spot before sundown.
There was a group of 3 lady tourists on the stoop, so I sat on the next one down and broke out the guitar to tune up, while talking to a skeezer.
This particular ones skeeze seems to be to compliment any and all ladies who are accompanied by men; by complementing the man upon his acquisition of the woman...no, really! You're lucky....skeeze....skeeze...I could never get a woman like that because I'm so down and out that I can't even get a beer right now; well, you enjoy your evening; I'm gonna have sweet dreams tonight, for sure....skeeze....skeeze...
He always seemed like a socially inept nerd, the times I've seen him when he was looking for his first or second drink, late morning, early afternoon.
He always seemed like a crass, obnoxious, extroverted shameless skeezer, the times I've seen him holding Hand Grenades in each hand and staggering past me at mindnight...You know, you're with one of the finest ladies on the planet, sir, I envy you...
Eventually the stoop cleared, and I began to play, while it was still daylight and under such a a condition was also able to don my new blue plastic sunglasses which fit neatly over my existing eyeglasses, affording me the extra element of being able to see approaching tourists in detal, and giving me a third thing which matches the color of the Indiana Scout guitar (the sharks and the mardi gras beads being the other two).
The Whole Notion Of Me
I was trying to gauge the effect of wearing the sunglasses upon the tip sharks.
I know I looked "cool as fuck," with the shades matching the guitar, yet presenting a vivid contrast with the earth tones of my brownish hat -kind of like Country Man Goes To Tinsletown, yeah...photos forthcoming...
I did get tips which seemed to come in clumps of 2 to 5 dollars.
I thought I was playing well; but I am going to go out on a limb and say that the glasses did not hurt me; and, in the case of teen aged tourists, I believe they encouraged tipping in the following manner:
These teens, in groups of 3 or 4, always have an alpha male. If the alpha male trows me a tip, the rest are very prone to follow suit; and a glance at me in my cool shades that match the sharks (which purpose or significance might elude them) and the guitar and the beads.
The subliminal perception in the immature mind of the teen is that the alpha male is tipping the whole notion of me...
When I knocked off the first time, at about 9 p.m., after having switched to the spotlight and ditched the shades, I had stuffed enough money into the shark tank to cover everything which I would spend the entire day.
I started heading for Sydneys to buy some kind of juice drink as a form of taking a break, but then remembered that I had found an unopened bottle of "Kombucha" which is something that I really have no idea what is, but which cost $3.99 each, which I still had in my pack. It had been in Rouses trash -perhaps when the things get warm, they cannot be re-refrigerated and then sold, but, there was the Kombucha, and so, I took a kombucha break and then returned to the spot where I played until 12:30 a.m., and would have played longer and made more than 59 bucks, if I didn't want to run to Rouses Market before they closed, in order to get a gallon of water, some raisins and a big canister of oatmeal...
In the future, I will have to pick up these items earlier in the evening and just lug them around a bit; the spot was swarming with promising tourists at the time I packed up to run for provisions...
I later found tons of salads in their airtight bags, along with some fresh catfish, still cold. I also found some sushi, and ate my first flesh in 19 days, by eating just the steelhead and tuna off the top, not all the imitation eels and the like....

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