Back to the Central Ave. Grill

There aren’t many places to go in Los Alamos when one wants to sit and write, but the Central Avenue Grill is one of those places. Jojo wanted to join us for a writing session, and we agreed to meet there.

The place has big garage doors that open onto Central Avenue (the name of the place, while not terribly creative, is certainly descriptive), and they were wide open to let in the fresh mountain air and a handful of flies. I chose a table right by the windows, we ordered pricey beers, and quickly we set to work, fuego and I on laptops while Jojo had some sort of tool that applied ink to flat sheets of some material based on wood pulp. Very interesting technology – it doesn’t even require electricity.

I was working on revisions to a longer short story based on some excellent feedback Jojo had provided on a previous draft. I needed some pretty big changes to take advantage of the opportunities I had missed in the first draft. fuego was working on the new, bigger Pirates screenplay.

Outside, it began to rain. At first it was just a few big, fat stray drops, but eventually it grew into a real storm complete with thunder and lightning. We sat and enjoyed felt the mood of the entire town lift (or maybe it was just me). You know you’re in the desert when rain is cause of great celebration. Perhaps the overdue cycle of afternoon thunderstorms was finally revving up.

Jojo had other things to do and left, but fuego and I persevered. We had to vacate our first table because it was reserved, then we were chased from the next by the sound man. Yes, a band was beginning to set up. We found another table, this one near an outlet, so we could continue to work. I think things were going better for me than for fuego that day, but that’s how it goes, sometimes.

In the end we listend to a band with an enormous amount of new equipment do passable covers of Dave Matthews and people like that, and an occasional song by bands I liked. The singer had a sweet voice and played piano well, but she was not angry enough on some of the songs. She was also very, very, attractive. I wrote through much of the gig, finally finishing another draft of Old Town. I probably should have read it over the next morning before sending it to Jojo, but it’s too late now. I’m thinking now I may have succumbed to three-beer sappiness in a couple of spots.

All in all, a good day in the Atomic City, with beer, friends, music, writing, and even a little bit of dancing.

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