My birthday festivities made an impression, or at least caught the attention, of a couple people I did not even know:
Waiting on the sidewalk outside of the Note:
"Hey, how was your birthday?"
Actually, it's almost her birthday, I explained. Vanessa's birthday starts at midnight.
"Wasn't your birthday yesterday?"
Yes.
"And did you have a good time?"
Fabulous, I said.
"How do you know him?" Liza asked me.
I don't, I shrugged. Curiosity caught me later, and I walked over to introduce myself.
"It's Joy, right? I heard you do a piece on the street last night. Something about loving poets... and then one of your friends did a poem too. A bit, um, risque, right?"
Right. Since they only go halfway through the list at the erotica slam, since most everyone around me was a poet, and since leos are rarely shy, especially when they have an excuse like their birthday, I requested poetry. Friends performed as we loitered on the sidewalk, erotica if they were so inclined.
Scoping out Zentra:
"Hey, I met you the other night. Were you at Sinibar?"
No, I wasn't. I'm not actually from Chicago, I said. From out of town.
"I did meet you. It was your birthday, right?"
Depends on what you saw me doing on my birthday, I joked.
"Does that mean you were getting into trouble on your birthday?"
Just dancing...
"And drinking?"
I laugh as he reminded me about that night at SubT: dj Ddouble called me out on the mic -- "Slow down birthday girl!" he announced -- when he saw me down my Cosmopolitan. I just wanted to dance without worrying about spilling. Martini glasses are cumbersome that way.
08.07.03