Column: Making it In Missoula

The Big Mystery


By Little Sis, 9-11-06

 
 

This is the opposite end of the spectrum from Big Sis’ Befriending the Ex. Some people think we’re the same person. My favorite comment: “Are you guys twins?” “No.” “Are you sure?” Anyway, let me set it up for you this week.

Enter: Drummer #2.

The stage: the Kettlehouse (K-hole to regulars).

What’s with all the drummers, you’re thinking? I have no idea. They’re just sexy men who turn out to play drums on the side.

I’d seen Drummer #2’s band play earlier that week at the Other Side. I loved their music; they got the crowd going and I love dancing. So, armed with a growler (which, for those of you who don’t know, is the best invention possible for transporting four pints of beer since Missoula stopped recycling glass), I introduced myself, we talked, and I smoothly made my exit. We kept running into each other (not that remarkable in this town) and we finally started “dating.” Not traditionally, though—if anyone still does traditional in the beginning—our first date was to Taco del Sol. He didn’t even pay for my burrito, but at the time I didn’t care. He was so damn sexy and fun I would have bought him a burrito.

We dated for almost a month, and he showed unabashed interest. He didn’t even care about playing by the rules; you know, the designated time before calling, who calls, where you go, when you meet each others’ friends. He just made sure I knew he was into me. And he shared my passion for college basketball, which was key since my team was laying waste to everyone in their path. When your crush calls to congratulate you on your team’s win, it’s safe to think he’s interested. Especially when they mauled his team.

And then he stayed over one night, and there the mystery begins. The logical progression in relationships is that when you’re sure the other person is emotionally invested, you most likely sleep together. Or so I thought (and most of the rest of the modern world, but apparently we’re all wrong).

He didn’t call, or return my calls. Silence and confusion (on my part) were in abundance. When I ran into him later that week, he used that ominous and purposely vague cliche, “We need to talk.” Um, yeah, you think? But that was the full extent of his communication efforts. As if he hadn’t made the situation awkward enough, he would pretend he didn’t see me anytime we were in the same 50-foot radius. Everyone knows about that pretense: you act like you’re in an engrossing conversation with whoever happens to be next to you (even if you’ve never seen them in your life) in an effort to appear busy, and then you “casually” vacate the area with your eyes focused straight ahead in determined tunnel vision.

So this apparently was Drummer #2’s smooth strategy for dealing with women: call frequently, make plans, share her interests, meet her friends, and then sleep with her. Don’t speak to her again.

This is a new strategy for me.

It was highly puzzling. It resembled drunken-mistake-in-college behavior. I didn’t see it coming at all, and I’m usually pretty good at spotting the jerks (even though sometimes I still go for them anyway). I discussed the situation with girlfriends, and we came up with a few ideas. Possibilities to explain his behavior are that Drummer #2 is:

A. stupid
B. intimidated by a beautiful, intelligent woman
C. actually 12
D. occasionally afflicted with amnesia

I’m going with either B or D, just to give him the benefit of the doubt. But A does deserve a little thought: we live in Missoula, therefore we see each other everywhere, and therefore the awkward encounters are frequent and increasingly ridiculous; he should have thought of this. In fact, when he voluntarily said hello in passing for the first time the other night, mainly because he was startled into it, I burst out laughing (right after I calmly responded).

The mysteriousness of the whole thing is what makes it remarkable. If anyone has any theories of their own, feel free to share them.

Despite my bad luck with local musicians, I still have a passion for local music. I saw a few varieties over the weekend, with their fan base in attendance. Tom Catmull’s CD release party was packed with all kinds of people, but the prevalence was cowboy boots, professional environmentalists and activists (which is most of town), and the adoring grad student population. Miller Creek grooved to a crowd who looked like they came straight from the Hemp Fest: dreadlocks, linen, and interesting dance moves were in abundance, and I’ve never seen the Top Hat so rockin’. Thurniture played to that phenomenon of people you’ve never seen before who seem to gather at The Loft, interspersed with other appreciative musicians and the band’s devoted following.

I’m restraining myself from being attracted to any of those drummers.

This week’s question:
Who is your favorite local band? Or local musician you have a secret crush on and so attend all of their shows? Come on, we all have one.














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Comments

By Dr. Q, 9-13-06
By Little Sis, 9-13-06
By maria, 9-13-06
By D, 9-13-06
By D, 9-13-06
By James Retney, 9-14-06
By Little Sis, 9-14-06
By D, 9-14-06
By S, 9-14-06
By Little Sis, 9-15-06
By Q. Random, 9-27-06

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