Andrew J. Lederer

to get out of there last night. (see yesterday's entry.)

there was just something about the vibe that felt off. it could have been due to an unspecified pre-show conflict alluded to onstage or it could (largely) have been me generating my own discomfort.

all i know is i didn't like being around so many people whose judgments i feared.

also, the show was sluggish (perhaps due to too many canadians in a row). of course, i can only speak of the first half, 'cause i left early in the second.

i did get the chance to test the simon munnery situation, asking if his latest child had yet arrived and saying "mazel tov" when told she (miranda) had, sparking no obvious fury. but the pleasure of congratulating the new papa faded as my nerve ends grew increasingly agitated beneath my clothes with each additional minute i hung out there.

still, i wanted to show ava i cared, so i determined to stay through her set, seeing as how she was, she told me, going to be next.

but she wasn't. instead, the lovely hils barker -- beautiful but too thin for me to gaze upon in my nervous state -- took the stage.

i followed (i thought) ava out of the room, but she seemed to vanish, so i continued out into the world, toward regent street and the 94 bus, the gently cool air soothing my too-frayed nerve endings, but not assuaging my guilt.

i should have stayed for ava, i thought, and considered turning back all the way to the point at which i found myself on the bus toward home.

the gentle air, the bus ride home, and a phone conversation about brand-naming conventions with my friend elise harris made me a new man by the time i hit royal crescent.

i promised ava by text that i would be a better friend (i have a history of disappearing suddenly) and washed the dishes before heading for another venue, that most cherished place called "dreamland".