#frascatti

From February, 2014.  I was avoiding writing a research paper with a pending deadline by eavesdropping on the jazz musicians next to me, waiting their turn to jam:

Sax player:  San Jose? You know what I call this town? Man Jose. Man Freaking Jose.  Nothin' but dudes all over.  I walk up and down campus and I see no ladies anywhere.

Bassist:  Yeah, yeah, I know. Friday night rolls around and all I know is that I've got to work hard if I wanna get anything...

Sax: But man, I gotta say, you walk around with an instrument, you are so set.  Cuz that's what we've got that those engineering dudes don't.  Those girls don't even care what's in this case, but they want it, they want me.  Man, they come to my shows and I can play the worst solo and they don't even know, they're just so impressed.  The ladies love musicians.  They smell bad boy. They want a bad boy.

Bassist:  Really, dude? I mean, we play jazz.  I always see old ladies with their men at our shows. Last time at Stritch it was the retirement crowd.  Or else hipsters.  I am not okay with the hipsters. 

Sax:  The skinny jeans are fine by me...

bassists sighs, starts unpacking his unsexy, oversized instrument. Sax player continues talking

Sax: It's music.  It's a magnet. Bringing the women to me.