Monday. 4:50pm. 3 Friends Coffeehouse.
The room has gone from average to empty in no more than four or five minutes. All that’s left is the BPB (Black Plastic Barista. So-named due to the thick black frames on his glasses) and a ginger-haired twentysomething woman who needs to get to Boston by Thursday. BPB suggested cheaptickets, but she doesn’t want to spend more than $300. I’m tempted to ask what she’s after in Boston, but this temptation is totally overwhelmed by my desire to assume the following:
She’s a singer, bluegrass/punk fusion mostly, born and raised in downtown Des Moines near Windsor Heights, a few blocks north of the freeway. Her house is a short drive from the Des Moines Renaissance Fair, where her mom works in the summer (at the Olde Ye Flower Arrangements Booth) and where her band had it’s first gig in 2003. It was a disaster, mostly, and embarrassing to the point where the band – then known as “The Wormy Apples” had to take break and change their name to “Rita Smiles and Lampshades” (explanation: her real name is Iris, but her father – much to the chagrin of her mother – insisted on keeping a framed portrait of Rita Hayworth on the mantle of her childhood home. It left and impression.)
Anyways, Iris is here on tour. Or she was, until meeting Allison (the blonde girl who just left through the back door) last night at a house party that Rita finished up with the drummer of RS & tL’s. It was loud and worthwhile and when Allison introduced herself after their set, Iris was in the mood to meet someone. They hit it off, one thing led to another, and upon waking up this morning, Iris felt a rather powerful need to keep Allison near by. The problem is, Allison is Canadian, (from Montreal, old town), and is currently going through an unpleasant extradition process due to a coke charge that was unfairly levied against her in December of last year. Allison is being taken back to Montreal tomorrow by a nasty undercover Mountie named Wilma who comes down to Portland for the cheap strip clubs (something Portland specializes in) and who – by chance – was in this very coffee shop last week flirting with BPB.
Iris doesn’t know this yet, but she will soon.
Alison just left out the back door because she saw Wilma walking towards the 3 friends, but as it turns out, Wilma was just cruising past 3 Friends again to take another gander at BPB before tomorrow’s departure. Iris doesn’t have a passport, but figures the easiest way to reconnect with Alison would be to cross the Montreal border in New Hampshire, where she has heard you don’t need any papers; only a case of beer for the Mountie in charge and friendly quip about how much better off Montreal would be as it’s own country.
This is true.
The band, such as it is, knows nothing about Allison or BPB or Wilma or the mountie in charge of New Hampshire’s border crossing, but is currently wondering where the hell their lead singer has disappeared to.
Just a guess.
Sorry I had to leave that hanging. Work calls.
alejandro
yooo, bad ass photos, oregon coast if i rmember the sites, looks similar to this place salishan i went a couple of time in the apst summer. take care bro.
Father
So here’s the plan: sign on with Iris’s band as techie, get a berth in the tour bus going back towards NH and offer to shepherd her across the frontier to Canada with a case of Rolling Rock under your arm for Wanda and the boys. Cheaper than a flight to Boston and only slightly less exhilarating than hitching a ride with total strangers.