So this is a week behind, but with all the craziness happening at home, I’ve been distracted. If you know me, you know that I am a Nicole Atkins superfan. I see her every time she comes to town, I know everything about her (musically anyway,) I read her blog and I bought her album early on her kickstarter campaign so I could get her to sign it and then entered to win her new album on a website (and won!) I sound like a stalker now, but I can live with that. Nicole came to DC to play last Wednesday night and I got tickets super early. She was playing in a music club that I used to work for and could’ve gone to for free, but I bought tickets anyway. Gotta support the team, you know?
Two weeks ago I got invited to a happy hour event held through a Coalition that my non-profit works with occasionally, but it was the same night as the show. I still skim through the invite and then see “Special Performance by Nicole Atkins.” This is an invite through WORK. Worlds collide sometimes, but I was stoked to say the least. A double feature! So I’m getting geared up to go and then I discover that Nicole doesn’t actually play until 10:30pm. I have no interest in the opening bands and let’s be honest, I go to bed at 10:30 these days. I love her a lot, but I decide I can skip it because I was going to see her play the event after work and because I’ve seen her several times already. So I head over to the event with my co-workers and a friend of mine, listen to some government people (think its better if I leave some details/names out.) talk, have a free drink and get to see her perform three awesome songs. And I’m standing right in front of her! Not awkward at all:
I take advantage of the situation and go up and talk to her after she’s done playing. Somewhere along the lines I’ve turned into a giddy pre-teen. Fortunately for me she’s super nice, not to mention funny.
So after happy hour, my two co-workers and a friend I brought along went to have another drink and grab some food. In a matter of fifteen minutes of being at the bar I catch up with a friend from high school who happens to be the bartender (I really need to move,) my co-worker manages to buy a 19-year-old a drink, and my other co-worker is getting hit on with the line “hey bitch, what’s your name?” Obviously a real winner. Or things have just changed since I’ve been on the dating scene and that’s how people talk. These things are all hilarious to me, but I continue eating the nachos that I thought would be a sufficient meal with my friend and thank my lucky stars that I no longer hang out in bars. One thing leads to another and my co-worker has me convinced that I should go to the show, reminding me of my love for Nicole and also somehow managed to convince me that she’d be disappointed if she didn’t see us there. You know, because she doesn’t have more important things to do. So to the show we go. And it was awesome. She has yet to disappoint me. She has a new band and they are just as awesome as the first. Did the owner of the club buy me a shot? Yes. Did I drink a tad too much? Perhaps. But did Nicole actually talk to us there? YES! All in all it was a stellar night. I hung out with some great people, including a friend that I have sorely missed and I was still home by midnight. I was still utterly exhausted the next day and slightly on the slow side, but it was totally worth it. As my dear friend Sean says, “Even at my advanced age I recognize that feeling like crap on a workday every once in a while helps keep me connected to my younger days. We can’t completely eradicate our drunken, rock and roll souls, can we?” So true my friend.