As promised, you came back to town two weeks later. But I would not go so far as to say that you were a man of your word. Because even though you did come back, you never bothered to inform me of that fact.
No, I had to find that out for myself. And I had to find it out just like anyone else in Seattle who picked up The Stranger weekly newspaper and saw the ad for your band buried in the back pages.
Surely, you had meant to call me and let me know. I consoled myself with thoughts of how busy you must be, and how draining touring would have to be—especially for a small band like yours, traveling all over the west coast in a beat up Volkswagen van.
The call would come, wouldn’t it? You told me. You promised me you’d be back and would see me again.
I waited for days, my cell phone always
