Look Who's Talking Part XII

There is a story my people tell... that is if my people are John, and to a lesser degree, Phil. It goes like this:

Last Friday John and I went to The Capital around 10 pm to catch a show featuring Phil as A/V as well as a band from Halifax called Windom Earle and Todd Drootin, a mad scientist from L.A. who rocks the house (as well as bars, clubs, and occasional funeral homes) as Books on Tape. It being the tail end of March break people weren't out in the fullest of forces. John and I were sitting watching Phil and James make hoola hoops out of speaker wire when I spied (out of the corner of my little eye) a fast moving white blur. As it got rapidly closer it became clear that the blur was in fact a not-unattractive young woman in light khaki pants and a puffy white jacket. In a startled supply teacher-like tone she asked: "What's going on here???" To which we of course replied: "A Happening." Without waiting for much in the way of questions from us she launched into a stream-of-(un)consciousness blizzard of factoids concerning her personal life that we were powerless to dodge. Within what seemed like three hours but was most likely only 3-5 minutes we learned that:

she was really nervous and might be having a panic attack

she hadn't taken her medication for that in three days

her "friends" were supposed to meet her here later

these same friends had ditched her the last time they were out

she liked DJs and liked to play with turntables

a famous DJ had once told her she had natural skillz

she had scratched up (not in the good way) one of the records that he'd paid over $100 for

when she was last pregnant some woman had called her fat

she wished she had, "punched that bitch in the face"

her breathing seemed to be getting back to normal

she had forgotten her wallet at home

she was in a habit of forgetting her gloves, scarf and often even her jacket at friends' houses

the last time she stayed over at a friend's house she'd taken a bath but was paralyzed with panic when she thought she spotted shadows outside the curtainless windows

she had no plans to go back to the bottom of Smythe and Brunswick to retrieve her wallet

she thought juice might be free at the bar

John and I hid upstairs when she left the table.


Some have pointed out that their Windows Media player reveals the identity of the mystery artist... but sportingly they've not revealed the name. For the rest of you:

Mystery track#3