The Jinx
I jinxed myself Tuesday night.
After having run into Bongo who sold me some medicinal bud, thereby reducing my cash on hand to the amount of 2 dollars and
5 cents, I went back to my place, preparing to go out and busk on a chilly night when rain was threatening.
There was a knock at my door, preceded by a cough which I recognized to be the cough of Rose.
Since the sound of the cough penetrated the thin walls of the apartment, and was as loud as the subsequent knock, I was sure that Rose had wanted to let me know, that way, who was knocking; lest I play dead and not answer the door.
She and Ed wanted to borrow 2 dollars, to put gas in their vehicle before making some kind of important run (probably to pick up medication) in the morning. "We probably have enough, but just want to put a little more in to be on the safe side.." said Ed.
Thinking about the fact that I had only 2 bucks on me, I told them that I didn't have it.
I could see an incredulous look pass over their faces as if they were thinking "I'm sure he's got at least 2 bucks..."
I really didn't want to say that I only had 2 dollars and 5 cents, fearing a rejoinder of "Well, can we have it?" from them.
At the same time, I didn't technically need the 2 bucks; I could start my tip jar off with fake money.
Then, I made what I now think was a mistake. I picked up my house phone and rang up Rose and Ed's room.
"Hey, I'm just on my way out to play, I'm sure that when I get back at 2 in the morning, I can slide something under your door..."
Then, I started to pedal towards the Quarter. I was thinking that, if I didn't make anything at all, I could slide the 2 dollars and 5 cents under their door.
I played and made only a dollar. It was cold and threatening rain and I had the misfortune of having 3 young Indian guys stop and listen and offer complements upon my music; and tell me that they were starting a Youtube "channel" which was to feature local New Orleans musicians like myself. They had taken my e-mail address from me and my phone number and had shaken my hand and thanked me for having played for them and then left without putting anything at all in my tip jar.
They had to have known that I was out there hoping to make some money; or had they?
So, I then learned my lesson about jinxing myself by having counted my chickens before my eggs had hatched. I considered sliding a note of apology under the door of Rose and Ed, explaining that I had only made a dollar "and had to get cat food."
I decided to just let it go.
I wondered if my phone would ring at 3 AM and it would be Ed, seeing if I were back yet and if I could lend them the money (the amount probably having grown based upon how I reported the night having gone) or if it would ring in the morning, before they were about to embark.
They never called and I figured that ours was not an unusual occurrence here at Sacred Heart Apartments -having "promised" someone something and then just not even gotten back to them about it; probably happens all the time around here...
Last night, Wednesday; I went out and made about 9 bucks off of just a few tippers. The streets were pretty dead, making one think about the most recent highly publicized shooting. That happened a full 7 blocks away from me, as I was packing up my stuff.
Travis Blaine (the guy who crashed at my place for 10 days) showed up at a certain point.
He didn't tip me a cent, but hung out for a while; eventually leaving to take a walk after I basically asked him if I could sit there by myself and play for a while, as that seems to be my "hustle" at the Lilly Pad.
He wanted me to bring him to where David the Water Jug Player hangs out, so he could spend almost 50 bucks on weed off the Jamaicans there, after not tipping me a cent.
He did smoke me up before I left for home, but that just made it harder to focus my energy upon breaking off from him; as it put him in talk mode. He was actually talking away and saying things like "more on that in a minute," whetting my appetite for further discourse from him, I guess he thought...
It is now Thursday and pretty chilly out (50 degrees). I suppose I'll go out and play.
I have cigarettes and cat food.
I jinxed myself Tuesday night.
After having run into Bongo who sold me some medicinal bud, thereby reducing my cash on hand to the amount of 2 dollars and
5 cents, I went back to my place, preparing to go out and busk on a chilly night when rain was threatening.
There was a knock at my door, preceded by a cough which I recognized to be the cough of Rose.
Since the sound of the cough penetrated the thin walls of the apartment, and was as loud as the subsequent knock, I was sure that Rose had wanted to let me know, that way, who was knocking; lest I play dead and not answer the door.
She and Ed wanted to borrow 2 dollars, to put gas in their vehicle before making some kind of important run (probably to pick up medication) in the morning. "We probably have enough, but just want to put a little more in to be on the safe side.." said Ed.
Thinking about the fact that I had only 2 bucks on me, I told them that I didn't have it.
I could see an incredulous look pass over their faces as if they were thinking "I'm sure he's got at least 2 bucks..."
I really didn't want to say that I only had 2 dollars and 5 cents, fearing a rejoinder of "Well, can we have it?" from them.
At the same time, I didn't technically need the 2 bucks; I could start my tip jar off with fake money.
Then, I made what I now think was a mistake. I picked up my house phone and rang up Rose and Ed's room.
"Hey, I'm just on my way out to play, I'm sure that when I get back at 2 in the morning, I can slide something under your door..."
Then, I started to pedal towards the Quarter. I was thinking that, if I didn't make anything at all, I could slide the 2 dollars and 5 cents under their door.
I played and made only a dollar. It was cold and threatening rain and I had the misfortune of having 3 young Indian guys stop and listen and offer complements upon my music; and tell me that they were starting a Youtube "channel" which was to feature local New Orleans musicians like myself. They had taken my e-mail address from me and my phone number and had shaken my hand and thanked me for having played for them and then left without putting anything at all in my tip jar.
They had to have known that I was out there hoping to make some money; or had they?
So, I then learned my lesson about jinxing myself by having counted my chickens before my eggs had hatched. I considered sliding a note of apology under the door of Rose and Ed, explaining that I had only made a dollar "and had to get cat food."
I decided to just let it go.
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I wondered if my phone would ring at 3 AM and it would be Ed, seeing if I were back yet and if I could lend them the money (the amount probably having grown based upon how I reported the night having gone) or if it would ring in the morning, before they were about to embark.
They never called and I figured that ours was not an unusual occurrence here at Sacred Heart Apartments -having "promised" someone something and then just not even gotten back to them about it; probably happens all the time around here...
Last night, Wednesday; I went out and made about 9 bucks off of just a few tippers. The streets were pretty dead, making one think about the most recent highly publicized shooting. That happened a full 7 blocks away from me, as I was packing up my stuff.
Travis Blaine (the guy who crashed at my place for 10 days) showed up at a certain point.
He didn't tip me a cent, but hung out for a while; eventually leaving to take a walk after I basically asked him if I could sit there by myself and play for a while, as that seems to be my "hustle" at the Lilly Pad.
He wanted me to bring him to where David the Water Jug Player hangs out, so he could spend almost 50 bucks on weed off the Jamaicans there, after not tipping me a cent.
He did smoke me up before I left for home, but that just made it harder to focus my energy upon breaking off from him; as it put him in talk mode. He was actually talking away and saying things like "more on that in a minute," whetting my appetite for further discourse from him, I guess he thought...
It is now Thursday and pretty chilly out (50 degrees). I suppose I'll go out and play.
I have cigarettes and cat food.
I like how, in your drawing of Rose and Ed, Rose looks like she has a black eye.
ReplyDeleteThey sound like the skankiest of skeezers.
I love how "internet people" always act like they're doing someone a big favor by putting them on their Youtube channel, or more like, saying they will but never doing it.
Ahh Travis, another kind of internet asshole, who knows very well how little you survive on and can't even tip you a $5 for hooking him up to $50 worth of weed.
Your headphone drawing looks OK, I've seen worse!
Funny how many arcs and angles headphones have once you look at them. I guess that's why an artist can spend all afternoon on drawing a pear and making it look like one...
ReplyDeleteA *lot* of commonplace objects are actually devilish hard to draw. The shining example of this is bicycles. If there's anything that tests the fundamental "draughting" ability of the artist, it's the humble bike.
ReplyDeleteIt's very annoying really, because kids who grew up in our times tended to get told that art is all about creativity and not drudgery, but in truth, you've got to do a lot of what in guitar would be called "finger exercises" before the music gets beautiful.
Ah, yes, the bike ...the two wheels can be in all kinds of relationships to one another, given that the front wheel pivots, plus the distance from the bike will determine how much larger the than the wheel further away will the wheel closer be; he has to draw each wheel in perspective and then place them in correct relation to each other; and then has to factor in the distance from the bike where he is.
ReplyDeleteI imagine, once the wheels were done, for better or worse, the artist would adjust his aspect slightly; like(virtually)step back from or closer to the bike, and would actually draw from the perspective of where a person, standing and looking at the bike would see it as a perfect as possible.
Imagine doing a drawing of a bike that has mismatching wheels...a practical joke played on any artist who would then have to put "that's what the bike looked like" somewhere on it LOL!