My last night of work (Sat) was good fun. I had a nice crowd and recognized most of the patrons. Someone tipped me early, and as I am not allowed to have a tip jar, I made a big fuss over it and folded it to a 90 degree angle and stood it up on it’s side right on top of the piano. Many of the people that had been coming to see me all week came up and gave me nice tips after seeing that. Near the end of the night there was this obnoxious queen with more money than sense who tried to buy me (successfully, I should add—I’m not proud) with a $100 bill to get me to play after I was scheduled to stop. I played another 15 minutes, and he then gave me yet another $100 to play a final song. One of my regulars showed me a nomination for a special commendation he submitted to the cruise line in my name. He wrote that I, single-handedly, had made his wife’s and his vacation.
Sunday I made the long journey home, via Detroit. Miles of walking through airports was the biggest drag, but surprisingly, both of my flights left and arrived on time. I finished Scott McClellan's book "What Happened" on the subway ride home from JFK. It's a decent book, worth reading if you want so insight into the Bush White House and how decisions were made. It felt really really good to walk into my front door and be home again. Now it is Monday and I owe my tenant a refrigerator repair, so I have to get on that.
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