So I just got back from the Paul Van Dyke show at the Commodore. I'm not much of a dancer, so I usually sideline myself when attending dance clubs or events that promote dancing, but tonight I decided to venture forth into the crowd. My newfound courage was found at the bottom of a bottle of 151 which I left in the parking lot after consuming it minutes before entering the club. By the time I had climbed the stairs and scoped out a good sitting position, I was ready to abandon it and hit the floor... For about 10 minutes. Fully embarassed and in pain from dancing (it's been too long obviously), I limped back to my spot. Luckily, being the pessimist I am, I brought my sketchbook and was able to keep myself entertained by sketching and doodling. Here is the strange part:

On three seperate occasions, women came up to me, the guy with his head in a book, sitting nowhere near the dance floor. Not only did these women approach me, but the got my attention and started talking with me. All of them (three) wanted to peruse my sketchbook. Anyone who knows me well will realize that the usual contents of my sketchbook aren't exactly 'chick bait' yet all three of them seemed to really like my drawings (eg. emaciated ghoulish kid, screaming banshee, widemouthed gargoyle wrapped in chains, assorted eyes). I ended up sketching one in return for a rose that she bought me from one of the peddlers wandering around selling cigarettes, matches and roses. hmmm. At any rate, I walked out with three phone numbers tonight, and a pink rose. i handed out some doodles to the woman who posed for me.

I couldn't have flirted with them if I wanted to. The music was way too loud for me to understand anything they had to say and vice versa. I ended up writing down most of my conversations just like we used to in highschool when the teacher wasn't looking. All told, it was a strange experience that I'll have to recreate at a later date.

In other news, I was hit by a car the other day while crossing at a marked crosswalk. I don't understand how people can blast through an obvious stopline / crosswalk combination when there is someone walking on it. I had just stepped past the centreline of the road when the driver side mirror whacked me in the right hip / back. Knocked me down onto one knee (luckily not in the path of the car). I'm no worse for wear really, but the car didn't even stop. It didn't slow down. It just sped off. I've had near misses on crosswalks before, but never before had I been hit. I KNOW this person was aware of my contacting the car because it made a loud noise as i hit the mirror DIRECTLY NEXT TO HER WINDOW. Wouldn't you stop in a situation like that? Bunch of savages in this town.