Dress pants a peacoat and a scarf and I am off for another night on the town… another? wait, who are we kidding. I’m off for a night on the town. At the train station we wait, father and daughter, he talks of politics and voting antics. I notice more and more in the twilight of the fall evening the graying of his beard. He is smart, oh so smart, and I wish we talked more often. I love the sound of his voice, and his stutter makes me laugh, only because I know he doesn’t stutter due to a speech impediment, but he stutters because when he talks his brain moves to quickly for his tongue to handle, and so sometimes it comes out a jumbled mess. But I love to hear him speak. I hope he knows how much I appreciate him, so I look him straight in the eye as he talks, conveying my love with my patient listening. The train arrives too quickly and I wave goodbye to him, as he fades into the distance.

The conductor takes my ticket, and we talk about the red sox game. I am dressed up and I feel out of place. But when I look out the window and fade into the fall scenery, nothing matters.

Boston is a beautiful city at night. In Cambridge I find my mum on the platform, awaiting me, I am glad, as this little girl is still overwhelmed by the big city at times. On the red line mother and daughter meet up with another pretty girl coming from a college town, in black dress pants, and a new black peacoat. Feeling very adult and sophisticated, the girls giggle on the train, and talk about silly things, as best friends do, seemingly ruining the adult moment, but really making it perfect, because it just wouldn’t be them otherwise.

They walk down the streets of boston, heels clicking on the pavement. They are more than ready for the evening of wonderful music as they listen to the cheering from inside fenway. They stand just inches away from the home of the beloved red sox, but their venue from the evening is in a chic little club across from the green monster.

Inside a man sings about his love in LA, and his sweet, smooth and soulful voice is both beautiful and very sexy.

The man of the hour however, jamie cullum comes later on, and serenades us to his upbeat, and jazzy and orgasmically sexy voice. Dancing and jumping on stage, swooning the crowd with his wit, and playing the piano with his hands feet and stool, I am swept away by the music. Everything fades but the sound. And then it is over, and out into the beautiful city we venture again.

Upon leaving the club into the crisp fall evening, I again reassert the fact that at some point in my life I want to fall in love with a musician, because to have someone sing to me like that would be not only amazing, it might quite possibly kill me, and at the same time it would be in-fucking-credible.

As we run down to the t I am glad to be hurrying in the cold with you running beside me. We look very sophisticated together this fine evening, and I am oh-so-fortunate to have found such a wonderful, kind, caring, silly, and very similar person to call my best friend. The evening wouldn’t have been the same without you. Our taste in music is amazing dear friend, if I don’t say so myself. ;-)

On the drive home, I listen to the red sox make a come back winning the 5th game of the series and staying alive for another shot at the yanks. what could be better?

Oh what a night.