Last night was my good friend Bryan's birthday, so I took him out for dinner at the Hollywood Loteria before meeting up with a slew of derby folks for birthday karaoke (which, sadly, never went down. The bar we had chosen for our shenanigans was hosting a beer pong tournament, usurping the advertised karaoke night). Our crew relocated to the Powerhouse where a few folks sang along loudly with Bryan's selections from their first-rate jukebox. Everyone went nuts during "Don't Stop Believing," but the room stayed mostly quiet for "This Must be the Place," which is one of my favorite songs.
Before the bars, when we were finishing our dinner at the restaurant, Bryan leaned across the table and said: "Doesn't that woman sitting to your right look just like Carrie from Sleater-Kinney?"
"That is Carrie from Sleater-Kinney."
The tables in Loteria are close together, and there wasn't much space between us. Here was the guitarist from a band I was obsessed with growing up, sitting right next to me, and had Bryan not pointed her out, I would've left the restaurant without noticing. These days, she writes the only music blog I occasionally bother to read, Monitor Mix.