But as you know, the band I have a crush on plays at Third Street Saloon on Wednesday nights. After working both jobs for a total of twelve hours, I really felt the need to let loose. I came home from the LB and showered all the synthetic material inspired sweat from my body, blow dried my hair, put on makeup and a relatively sexy outfit and went to the bar.

The band was there, but the fiddler who is too old for me was stoned and drunk and not paying attention to me. The bassist, who Leah and I both have a mysterious crush on sat at our table and talked our fucking ears off. He bought us beer and made a novice bassist take his place to chat with us.

So yeah. He's sleeping on our pull out couch. Even though he's like six foot nine or something. We got him drunk. Quick. But no taking advantage occurred. He's just a good guy. Now his bass is stored at the end of our hall.

Too bad I have to be to work by nine am. Or I'd cook the dear boy breakfast.

For more info please see this link. Ben's the comatose man on our foam nightmare of a couch.