Sunday, May 26
Serena flagged me over at a recovery meeting this morning and asked me to speak at a meeting she chairs on Saturday nights.
“I think you should date my brother, Ronny,” she said. “He’s cute and rich. John told Ronny he should go out with you. John thinks your hot (John is Serena’s son). I think you and Ronny would really like each other. I just don’t want him to be your transition guy.”
“Bring him on,” I laughed.
Tony Bling-Bling, who was eavesdropping nearby and had just chaired the meeting we were at, inched over and said, “I’d like you to speak at this meeting the end of June. Will you?”
“Sure,” I said.
“I want to promote it, improve attendance.” Tony had recently taken the meeting over from Playboy Pete and attendance was down.
I picked up Ruby in the evening and we drove to Buddy Guy’s Legends. Rumor has it the Rolling Stones, who are in town, are playing there tonight. Ruby, an FBI agent who'd gotten the tip from her office, swore me to secrecy.
“Anything going on with the golf pro?” Ruby asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “All we do is text. It doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. A friend of mine wants to fix me up with her brother. She said he’s really good looking and rich.”
“I want to be fixed up with him,” Ruby said. “Lucky.”
We got to the club and a tall, young, handsome dude working the door looked me up and down. “Did we used to be together in a past life?” he asked me.
“Quite possibly,” I laughed, flattered.
We sat down with Ruby’s FBI friends at a large table next to the stage and ate dinner. A bluesy jazz trio was playing.
“How was your day?” Golf Guy texted.
“Golf Guy just texted me,” I told Ruby. “Is it okay if I tell him and invite him?”
Ruby leaned over and asked one of her friends. The friend nodded. “Just tell him not to go on social media with it,” Ruby said.
“I’m at Buddy Guy’s,” I texted. “Rumor has it the Stones are playing here tonight!”
“Where is that? And really?”
“700 Wabash. Come if you want. Don’t know for sure, but my friend got the tip.”
“That would be amazing if they play.”
“I know.”
No yes or no from Golf Guy. Dangle Brenda. Maybe I’ll text you last minute to hit golf balls when I'm bored.
The jazz trio wrapped up and Ruby checked with an agent who had the Stone’s schedule. The agent said the Stones had just gone out to dinner and if they played, it would be after the second band. The second band went on.
“Well?” Golf Guy texted.
“They’re supposed to go on around ten if they play,” I said. “I’ll send a picture if they do.”
“Send me a picture of you in the meantime.”
I leaned over to Ruby. “He wants me to send him a picture of me.”
“Well send him one. Here, I’ll take it.”
“I want you in it, too,” I said. “I feel weird sending a picture of me.”
“I hate myself in pictures.”
“You’re a hottie. Shut up. He’ll think, ‘Who’s her friend?’”
Ruby asked one of her friends to take a picture of us.
“See,” I said, showing Ruby the picture. “You look great.”
“I guess,” she moaned.
I sent the picture.
“You look pretty,” Golf Guy texted.
Ruby leaned over. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. I don’t think they’re coming. It’ll be late. They’re old.”
“Don’t they live in LA where it’s two hours behind?” I asked. “I don’t think they keep day hours.”
Ruby checked with her Stones source. The Stones had finished dinner and were on their way to Buddy Guy’s. The bar was packed. We were definitely not the only people who’d heard the rumor. Suddenly, the singer stopped her set, spoke with a couple of guys, then started back up again. She sang a long time.
“They’re not coming,” Ruby said.
Half an hour later, the set ended, the lights went on, and the bouncers told everyone to leave.
“Mick?” Golf Guy texted.
“Nope. Bummer.”
“Hopefully it was fun.”
“Saw two bands that weren’t the Stones.”
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