Chat
06-14-2016, 06:03 PM
14 June 2016
No intention set.
I'm somewhere park-like. Rolling hills, green grass, flowers, trees, paths, that sort of thing. The place is filled with people I don't know. Many people, a huge crowd. I'm wandering around. There's an air of excitement amongst the crowd but I don't know why. I don't even know why I'm there.
I wander into an area where there's a great deal of activity occurring. There's a woman who seems to be running things, or, at the least, she's ordering people around. She sees me and wants to know what I'm doing there, why am I not working, don't I know the show is supposed to start in an hour and good god, don't just stand there, GET TO WORK! I tell her she must be mistaken, I'm not one of the workers. She shoots a disdainful look at me and asks what use am I, then. I just shrug. She starts berating me, telling me she's a Very Important Person who Knows People, Famous People, most of the people who will be performing today, and that I'm a Nobody. I agree with her, which seems to piss her off even more. She's all up in my face, repeating her Very Important Person bit. I'm calm and ready to leave but she's on a roll so I figure I'll just let her go until she's got it out of her system. After all, if she's yelling at me, who can handle it, she's not yelling at other people who might not be able to handle it.
About this time, Eric Clapton walks up. He's carrying an acoustic guitar in one hand and drapes an arm around my shoulders. The VIP woman stops in mid-tirade like someone hit a pause button. I eye Clapton curiously. Hey, babe, he says, I was looking for you. I tell him I've been right here, chatting with this nice lady. VIP woman finds her voice and asks him, not me, You know her? He glances at me and grins. Do I know you? he asks. You should, I say, since we've been married for over 20 years. 26, he says, since you forgot. VIP woman says, I didn't know you were married. He glances at her and says, in a polite yet MYOB tone, I don't tend to tell stage managers my personal business. I manage not to laugh at her expression. He kisses my forehead and says he'll see me after the concert. I tell him I'll meet him backstage later. He leaves. VIP woman asks me why I didn't tell her I was-and this was said in reverent tones-Eric Clapton's wife. I shrug and tell her it's nobody's business but ours. Then I wander off to go find my place so I can watch the concert. By this time word is out that Eric Clapton's wife is here and hanging out and I have people watching my every move. It's really annoying but I know I'm going to enjoy the concert.
Notes:
I don't know Eric Clapton and I'm certainly not married to him.
Whatever this concert was going to be, it seemed to have many well-known performers involved. I don't know if it was a benefit or a festival, but it was big, given all the people who were attending.
No intention set.
I'm somewhere park-like. Rolling hills, green grass, flowers, trees, paths, that sort of thing. The place is filled with people I don't know. Many people, a huge crowd. I'm wandering around. There's an air of excitement amongst the crowd but I don't know why. I don't even know why I'm there.
I wander into an area where there's a great deal of activity occurring. There's a woman who seems to be running things, or, at the least, she's ordering people around. She sees me and wants to know what I'm doing there, why am I not working, don't I know the show is supposed to start in an hour and good god, don't just stand there, GET TO WORK! I tell her she must be mistaken, I'm not one of the workers. She shoots a disdainful look at me and asks what use am I, then. I just shrug. She starts berating me, telling me she's a Very Important Person who Knows People, Famous People, most of the people who will be performing today, and that I'm a Nobody. I agree with her, which seems to piss her off even more. She's all up in my face, repeating her Very Important Person bit. I'm calm and ready to leave but she's on a roll so I figure I'll just let her go until she's got it out of her system. After all, if she's yelling at me, who can handle it, she's not yelling at other people who might not be able to handle it.
About this time, Eric Clapton walks up. He's carrying an acoustic guitar in one hand and drapes an arm around my shoulders. The VIP woman stops in mid-tirade like someone hit a pause button. I eye Clapton curiously. Hey, babe, he says, I was looking for you. I tell him I've been right here, chatting with this nice lady. VIP woman finds her voice and asks him, not me, You know her? He glances at me and grins. Do I know you? he asks. You should, I say, since we've been married for over 20 years. 26, he says, since you forgot. VIP woman says, I didn't know you were married. He glances at her and says, in a polite yet MYOB tone, I don't tend to tell stage managers my personal business. I manage not to laugh at her expression. He kisses my forehead and says he'll see me after the concert. I tell him I'll meet him backstage later. He leaves. VIP woman asks me why I didn't tell her I was-and this was said in reverent tones-Eric Clapton's wife. I shrug and tell her it's nobody's business but ours. Then I wander off to go find my place so I can watch the concert. By this time word is out that Eric Clapton's wife is here and hanging out and I have people watching my every move. It's really annoying but I know I'm going to enjoy the concert.
Notes:
I don't know Eric Clapton and I'm certainly not married to him.
Whatever this concert was going to be, it seemed to have many well-known performers involved. I don't know if it was a benefit or a festival, but it was big, given all the people who were attending.
