I know this is a different kind of trip, but please give me five (or 500) seconds to squee:
- When I found out that her gig was just two blocks away from my office, I was psyched.
- T’was perfect timing. I left work–after eight hours of putting my do-not-disturb hat on–just in time for the 10:30 pm show.
- Her performance was all kinds of wonderful–as she hit note after note. Those two sets were nothing but unadulterated me-and-my-guitar wizardry.
- When the gig ended, I was too shy to have our picture taken (yes, my timidity is right on schedule). So I just took a photo of her and my colleague–while screaming “Me too! Me too!” inside.
- We decided to call it a night and were already on our way to the taxi bay. Then someone behind asked if we had a good time…
That awesome moment when the artist you’ve been raving about (1) follows you after her gig and (2) tells you: “You inspire me.”
The next five (six or seven?) minutes were a series of sound bites: sure, some details registered in my ears–sleeplessness, families, fame, and autographs–but 90% of my brain cells processed a single realization: “OMG. OMG. She’s talking to me.”
Imagine, after four years of studying the art of communication, I couldn’t even utter a complete English sentence. And when I did, it was cringe-worthy (I was proofreading my responses on my way home). Define starstruck.
But despite my grammatical mishaps, I’m a happy camper. We inspire each other–and that’s all that matters.
Now let’s get back to regular programming…