Blubbering like a fucking baby over THIS SONG for two days reminded me of a woman I met back when I was in the real estate game; I met her at the front stoop of the house and man, talk about your classic Mrs. Xmastime Horse Face, I was S M I T T E N tout suite. So we're standing there waiting for someone, maybe the owner, I dunno (ed. note - now I remember, twas her husband. prolly why I didn't hit it), and we're shooting the shit, and I guess I asked her what she does and she says that she's a keyboard player. I roll my eyes in my head well, I guess her husband's got the money for the house, as everyone I know in NYC is a "musician." But I'm making convo and I say hey, I gotta buddy who's a great keyboard player, blah blah blah. She brightens up oh, who does he play with? And I tell her, and of course it's one of my friend's bands of which about 4 people know exist, so she just politely smiles oh, I don't think I've heard of them. So I'm like well, who do you play with and wait for her to excitedly tell me the name of some ironically-named-with-8-words psychobilly western jazz fusion comedy goth band, and then ironically brag how they all can't really play their instruments but that don't matter cause it's "real music."
"Peter Gabriel."
Fuck. Now I gotta find out if she played on my new "crawl under the bed naked and cry while rubbing Country Crock all over" slice.
Hmm.
UPDATE: found her! Bangin hot. I wonder if she ever bought that house...(hitting BREAK GLASS IN CASE OF EMERGENCY STALKING case...)
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