Melissa, Brock, Hastings and I all attended Steve Ngo's birthday party at Flytrap. Steve is clearly very popular and rightfully so. I really like him.
I think Steve's a little scared I'm going to write something scathing about him, but quite frankly, no one gives a shit about the Community College Board. Steve should be so lucky.
Anyway, I spent most of the evening chatting with the hilarious and totally not officious Rebecca Prozan. Then I got trapped with some dude who claimed to be best friends with everyone on Earth as he got all their names wrong. "Oh, Jack and I have been dear, DEAR friends for 20 years."
"You mean Jim?"
"Oh Jim, of course."
I went outside and smoked a cigarette with Melissa, Brock and some guy from Gavin's campaign who I found a little 'too cool for school.' There must be some roofie that the Newsom campaign slips in their bottled water that makes all of the men turn into a John Hughes villan? We get it, Stan Gable. You're cool. You still lose at the end of the movie.
Maybe I was just pissed he took my last cigarette and he was sick of schmoozing. I'm sure he's a real man of the people when he's not rolling his eyes.
Actually, I like (relatively) political events like this. You spend 5 minutes with people and, as
Brock pointed out, no one's at a loss for what to say. Lots of people are really interesting and certain people just schmooze to climb their ladder. Instantly, they size you up by casually trying to find out how important you are. I do the same thing right back to them. God forbid someone better walk in!
Who are you!? What do you do!? How does that help me!? Right?
Steve very charmingly did a great job of introducing everyone to each other, which was tough. The place was packed. Brock and I eventually hugged Steve goodbye and left as we had plans!
Spencer Day has been performing at the Rrazz Room and you have 3 nights left to go see him. I remember seeing Spencer perform at the Lush Lounge, where I'd go after work with my "theater people" friends and swoon. He's kinda like Harry Connick Jr. and Michael Buble with a splash of Rufus Wainwright.
The Rrazz Room at Hotel Nikko is much like you'd expect. It's very 2 drink minimum/cabaret tables/middle-aged gay couples. Brock and I were all dolled up and seated in a corner booth, right near where Spencer and his ascot played the piano for 3 hours. The show was fabulous, especially if one was able to ignore the incredibly drunk woman front and center who treated this intimate cabaret show like she was at a Warrant concert.
Spencer was backed by a band (and Hell-O to the string bass player) and at one point, got up and sang a cover of a song I never knew I loved so much. "Never My Love" is a bit of a cheesy 60's song, but his version was so slow and dark and gorgeous. I would have cried but Ms. Front Row beat me to it. She was sobbing, the only other sound we heard really, as the small audience was enraptured by this cover.
It was quite a date, Brock and I at the Rrazz Room. As I pointed out, "If I was here with anyone else, we'd be having some serious sex later."
So, if you would like to do "it" this weekend, and you're wooing a chick or a gay or a guy that loves singer/songwriter/standards types, you've got tonight, tomorrow and Sunday to close the deal.
Really. It was lovely.
Since I mentioned my beloved Rufus and I'm heading to Alaska on Sunday, this one's going out to little Montana Tessa Newsom. Welcome to world, gorgeous...