What Else Floats in Water?

I really didn't belong. I wasn't properly dressed. I was wearing a dark blue shirt because I didn't even own a black one.

Dave had a band, and the band was making a rare visit to Portland. Dave didn't know that I knew. I hadn't seen him in years. So we went, and there we were.

Tom and I were in the small smokey club, standing around until the gig was up. Once off stage, Dave walked past and looked at me. He walked past again and glared. Finally, on the third pass, he recognized us and his face lit up into a rare smile.

The show had been good, and introductions were made. Unfortunately, the one member of his band that I didn't meet was the drummer.

Standing around talking, I grew thirsty and wandered over to the bar to get a drink. There, I met an attractive young woman dressed all in black, and who was wearing a large amulet around her neck. She had seen me chatting with Dave, and reached out her hand to introduce herself.

"Hi," she said, "I'm the drummer."

"Oh," I said, reaching out my hand to shake hers, "pleasure to meet you."

She kept shaking my hand and said, "I'm also a witch."

"Alright," I offered, the pieces coming together, "There's something you don't hear everyday."

"I used to be a catholic."

"Not really a lot of difference between the two, I suppose." I said.

"Hmm, I guess not, now that I think about it."

And with that, my first encounter with a real live self-proclaimed witch came to an end. Such is the benefit of being friends with Dave. It seems to just come with the territory.

...12 hours and counting. The Rose City awaits the return of Dave and Mrs. Dave.