Scary Lady on the Park Bench Continued...
I let her continue to play a couple of final tunes and I said, " It's 8 O' Clock now, I have to go pick my girlfriend up at work." She took both hands off of my guitar and let me pick it up off of her lap. I put my guitar in my case, looked her in the eye and said , "Thank you." She said , "Thank you for a wonderful time." I started walking down the sidewalk to where my car was. I never turned around to look at her. I just got in my car and drove.
|
|
Scary Lady on Park Bench Continued...
Then, she looked at some of the passers by and said, "I REALLY HATE THESE SNOBBY COCKSUCKERS !!!! FUCK THESE MOTHERFUCKERS!!!" It was really hilarious. She asked me how old I was and I told her, " 29." She said that she was 49. She then told me that she had surgery on her right shoulder. She then said that she was a registered nurse. I didn't believe her. Then, she started talking about fucking. I didn't know where that was going. I didn't want to find out. Then she looked at me and said, " You look hungry. You should come over to my place and get something to eat. " I declined and told her that I wasn't really hungry. That was really fucking scary.
I let her continue to play a couple of final tunes and I said, " It's 8 O' Clock now, I have to go pick my girlfriend up at work." She took both hands off of my guitar and let me pick it up off of her lap. I put my guitar in my case, looked her in the eye and said , "Thank you." She said , "Thank you for a w
|
|
Scary Lady on Park Bench Continued...
Every once in a while, she would swig from the bottle, flex her right bicep, and commence playing my guitar. I couldn't figure out if she was homeless, crazy, lonely, or all three. She would get better with the guitar the more she would drink from the bottle. Her speech started to slur after a while. Her singing voice was also really incredible. She would wipe her nose and lick her fingers and start playing my guitar some more. EWWWW!
Then, she looked at some of the passers by and said, "I REALLY HATE THESE SNOBBY COCKSUCKERS !!!! FUCK THESE MOTHERFUCKERS!!!" It was really hilarious. She asked me how old I was and I told her, " 29." She said that she was 49. She then told me that she had surgery on her right shoulder. She then said that she was a registered nurse. I didn't believe her. Then, she started talking about fucking. I didn't know where that was going. I didn't want to find out. Then she looked at me and said, " You look hungry. You should come over to m
|
|
Scary Lady on Park Bench continued...
She asked me if I wanted a shot. I didn't know what the hell she was talking about. She then pulled her sweated up to her face. I realized that she had a bottle of whiskey wrapped in her sweater. She took a drink. She asked me if she could play my guitar. I gave it to her and she started playing. She was fucking incredible. Her stylings kind of reminded me of the Velvet Underground, and maybe some America, and Eagles. one of the tunes did sound like an America tune that I hear on the radio. I don't really like America, or the Eagles, but she was definitely playing really well. She told me she has been playing for twenty years or more.
Every once in a while, she would swig from the bottle, flex her right bicep, and commence playing my guitar. I couldn't figure out if she was homeless, crazy, lonely, or all three. She would get better with the guitar the more she would drink from the bottle. Her speech started to slur after a while. Her singing voice was also really incredible.
|
|
Scary Lady at the Park Bench
Last night around 6:30, I've decided to go to Bel Air and sit on one of the park benches in front of the County Seat and play my guitar. I was practicing some of my new songs that I've just recorded with Brian Ellis.
Thirty minutes into it, I saw a woman across the street smiling, and looking at me. She ran across the street to where I was and stood in front of me, watching me. I stopped playing, and said, "hello" to her. She sat next to me and introduced herself to me. She said that her name was Patsy. She asked me mine and I said, "Bryan". She was wearing forest green sandals, forest green pants, a white shirt with palm trees on them, and carrying a forest green sweater, as if she had something in it.
She asked me if I wanted a shot. I didn't know what the hell she was talking about. She then pulled her sweated up to her face. I realized that she had a bottle of whiskey wrapped in her sweater. She took a drink. She asked me if she could play my guitar. I gave it to h
|
|
|
