Not that there's anything wrong with that....

Angie came to visit last night. A friend of hers from Syracuse was holding a poetry reading in some cafe in the Commons. OK, not exactly my thing, but it would be fun and interesting. I needed to keep an open mind.

We headed downtown early, and had dinner at Viva, out on the sidewalk. It was lovely, even if the sky was overcast. We got dessert -- I'm always a sucker for creme brulee -- at the fancy dessert place and wandered into the used bookstore.

As I was browsing the fiction section, I heard Angie say, "this is Jane." She was holding a flyer that had been tacked to a bulletin board. It was about the poetry reading we were soon headed to. I read the bio about the featured poet: "Jane so and so lives in Syracuse with her wife and their dog."

"Her wife? Ang, are you taking me to a lesbian thing?"

She laughed. "There might be lesbians there."

"They're going to think we're lesbians."

"So?"

"So? So? So, I'm your aunt. And I'm not a lesbian." Not that there's anything wrong with that.

We went to the poetry reading, and some of her friends from her poetry group were there, including Jane and Jane's wife. And a boy that Angie liked. I studied him for any signs of interest in her. He had a big bottom lip, but he was a good listener whenever she spoke, and quite taken when she got up to read some of her poetry (and I was very impressed -- with her poetry, not that he was taken with her).

The poetry was actually good, and I enjoyed myself in spite of myself. Until they started "slamming." I still don't understand this concept, but there were angry people shouting, and I think they thought they were insightful and talented. I just thought they needed to stop.

It was about that time that I leaned over to Angie, and said, "Aunt Ellie needs a beer. And to go to that bar across the street where they have big TV's with all sorts of baseball games on them."