I had lived in Annapolis just over a year, now, and it was time to get out and check out the night life. Actually, I have visited several parts of town, mostly on foot, but tonight was Friday night, I was alone, and I felt, well, Friday-nightish.
My favorite coffehouse, 49 West, had advertised a concert in their cramped back room: William Kelly, a high school kid who played classical piano. Just my kind of concert. So I got my name on the reservation list,  put on some clean clothes, and hopped on my bike, a 1993 BMW K75s. (More about the bike in future posts.)

Not my bike, but it looks about like this one in blue

I arrived early, figuring on doing some writing ( I'm working on a poem that'll appear on these pages sometime soon). Wouldn't you know, the kid was going to begin performing in only a few minutes! I had gotten my name on the list for the late concert, and he was performing early. (The late concert was a Bossa Nova/Gypsy Jazz group that I had no interest in.) They let me sit in the back—the room had several empty seats.
I settled in and ordered my usual, a large latté, and a sandwich. My waitress was a raven-haired beauty named Olga who spoke with some kind of Eastern European accent. She was nicely dressed that evening, wearing a blouse of the type I like my dear sweet wife to wear (and that she likes to wear for me—eat your hearts out, guys). She leaned over as she served me my sandwich, and I commented that the scenery in Annapolis was particularly nice this evening. She smiled thanks and winked at me. I noticed later that she made sure to be facing my direction when she served the next table.
Unlike Olga, Mr. Kelly was not much to look at. Scraggly long hair (fit right in with the old definition of long-hair music), he let his mouth hang open when he relaxed, revealing crooked teeth, and he wore thick glasses. But his playing was amazing! The entire concert was Brahms and Chopin (pronounced show-pan, guys, not like what you do to wood with an axe) and it wasn't easy stuff. His fingers were blurry they flew so fast. At first I wondered if he was a savant, but he spoke articulately and with a sense of humor (he cut the break short, saying he'd rather fidget, so he played some more lightning-fast Chopin.) Then I figured he had absolutely no social life, until I learned that the cute redhead at the front was his girlfriend Megan, not a loyal sister who got all the looks in the family. The kid was just plain talented, and I enjoyed the concert.
Afterwards, as I settled in for an evening of writing in the front room, Olga pointed at my helmet and asked what kind of bike I had. I said it was a BMW, and she got this funny look in her eye. Did I happen to know a BMW rider name of Jack, kind of big, and extremely funny? Has this baby seal look? As soon as I had raised my eyebrows in surprise, and before I could say yes, she stiffened up and was pretty cool the rest of the evening, in spite of my best efforts. I got a lot of writing done.