Sweet indignation

Tonight, Justin and I headed over to Danny’s post-work for a few drinks. We got into an interesting conversation about film and the artistic process, particularly as it pertained to music. I was of the mind that having music first would be more of a bias, and interfere with the process; he felt that music helped guide the creation process just like anything else (writing, video, etc). At the end of things, I realized that I’m more rooted in the writing world, and it’s the storyline that I always think in terms of, first.

After our first drink, we realized that we were going to be in the middle of a poetry reading. Apparently, this happens once a month at Danny’s, and tonight there were two featured readers.

Man, I gotta tell you. My ego, the whole time, was out of control. I don’t think I have the energy to fully write about this right now, but… the whole time I was listening, I couldn’t help but think of how much I wanted to be in front of a microphone. Hell, I was thinking about how much I deserved to be in front of a mic.

I know – we’re talking INSANE egotism here. I don’t know where this comes from. I’m very quite and laid-back about most things, but the instant I think about my own writing… it’s like I think I shit ice cream cones or something.

I didn’t really care for the readers, but it was still fun to sit through a reading. After the first reader, during the intermission, I talked to one of the hosts. I got his info, and found out they accept submissions (although they have a tremendous backlog, as they only do this once a month). Still, I got an email address and there’s a chance. And a chance to swing is all I’m really asking for. I’ll be sending something in, for sure.

This would be the second time I’ve submitted poems, to try to be part of a reading series. Since I haven’t heard anything since about Myopic, I’m guessing that’s a wash.

And oh yes, the indignation.

After the second reader began, there were two girls who were sitting in the back room. Granted, that room is a bit tucked away (there’s a huge wall that separates that room and the rest of the bar). But their voices carried a lot. And the whole time they were talking, their voices bounced out and competed against the reader (who was a pretty soft-spoken man to begin with).

Actually, it was really just one of the girls whose voice kept cutting through. There were several other people who would occasionally crane their necks and look back, obviously irritated. We’re talking an entire bar of maybe 30 people, and the place is dead quiet except for the guy reading his poetry and this girl jabbering away in the back.

Towards the end of his reading, I got fed up and walked back there. I peeked in and said that it was difficult to hear, and asked them to talk a bit softer. They seemed fine with that, and I returned to my seat. After another 10-15 minutes went by, another person went back there to ask them to be quieter (this time, accompanied by the reader who had gone on first). And still, despite it all, you could hear that one girl’s voice cut above the reading.

To be honest, I’m unclear how anyone (no matter how drunk) could be oblivious to what was happening. I’m also unclear how anyone could be so intentionally rude.

For my money, I didn’t really care for either of the poets reading. But I found it maddening that someone would show such disrespect as to keep talking away (despite several people asking them to be quiet).

As we were leaving, Justin went back there and mouthed off. He said something about not interrupting their interruptions, and that he hoped what they had to say was really important. I forget what the one girl responded with, but Justin closed by saying to the one talkative girl: “I just wanted to tell you that, you suck.”

I think, after the shock wore off, she said something like “Fuck off” as he was walking away.

Part of this, I’m sure, is my bias for readings… and for poetry in general. But I’d like to think that a bigger part of our reactions tonight has to do with just plain old consideration. Being aware of your surroundings, of those around you, and just politeness, for god’s sake.

Afterwards, we stopped off at a sushi place that Justin really likes. Got a ton of great stuff (it’s hard to beat miso soup in the wintertime), and the whole meal was rather indulgent. I forget the name of the place, but definitely a swankier establishment than I’m used to frequenting. But man oh man… definitely worth it for the sushi.

Scotch, Poetry, and Sushi. What a fun evening, indignation and all. :)