- Strings Arrive
|They really sent it!|
I took a big chance.
I was down on the riverwalk; the wind was howling. 45 miles per hour, I would estimate. It sure was going to be hell to ride against it, especially with my guitar on.
And then, to have to retrace my journey to get strings, should the strings from the Musician's Friend website not arrive in the day's mail was an incredibly daunting thought.
I hadn't slept yet. Friday night was upon me with its potential of up to 80 dollars, especially for a guy with bright new strings...
But, to buy a set for $5, when I had only paid $4.50 for 3! sets, would feel like a moral defeat.
I had ridden all the way down there to meet Jerry, the cook.
Keypad Lock Off
|River Walk (wharf I once lived under, background right)|
Either that, or his entire 7 digit phone number just happened to be dialed as a result of the phone bumping against the mp3 player that was in the same pocket.
All, I know is, I heard Jerry saying "Hello?" from my pocket, and I wound up meeting him at the river walk for to meet a couple of his friends, one of whom was a female tarot card reader who was in her early twenties and appeared to perhaps have some blood from between India and Greece.
And the French Market was right across the street from where we were, where the guy sells strings for $5.
But, I gambled. I fought the stiff breeze all the way back to the apartment.
One Less Bell To Answer
Good news! They have NOT fixed the back gate to the parking lot here at Sacred Heart Apartments.
When I came out, late this morning, after having wrestled my bike out of the room and through a door and down 4 stairs and out another door; I saw a heartbreaking sight.
The back gate was closed and a guy who looked like a gate worker was working on it.
I had to wrestle my bike through another door, a lobby and then out the next door which opens upon a gate just close enough to the door to make getting a bike out a pain in the ass; and, I thought that I would have to do this from now on, until the end of my time here.
But, upon returning from the riverwalk, I discovered the gate to once again be wide open in a "broken" position, and to have been freshly painted a sticky green color.
And, then, I went to the mailbox, with my heart pounding. I didn't want to have to ride another almost 5 miles, half of it against a 40 mph wind.
The Strings were in there. Whew! Now I need to sleep and to see about busking, if the wind dies down...