I have many many Asheville stories to share, but since I'm feeling under the weather, very pooped, and can't seem to put words together to make a complete sentence, I'm just going to offer up one story for now.
Saturday afternoon, I laid down to take a nap in our little in town loft. It was a lovely day and with the windows open, a slight breeze blew through my bedroom. I was out late the night before, would be out late again this night, and so looked forward to my nap in Asheville.
And then THIS started. Bang Bang Bang, chicka chicka crash! Bang Bang Bang rolllllllllllllllllll chicka crash. Roll Roll Roll Roll crash crash crash bam bam bam!! BANG BANG BANG.
Repeat Again and Again. And add some cowbell. For TWO hours.
I kid you not. I started plotting serious torture for this man. I put pillows over my head. I fantasized about blowing up his drums. I fantasized about destroying all drums and drummers. This man vaulted very quickly to the top of the WOW, I HAVE NO PATIENCE FOR YOU list. He made me irrational and violent! I mean, after all, he was messing with my sacred nap.
When we did leave for our late evening, we walked by this gent. He was two blocks from our loft, and still playing.
But, I'll have you know, the worst thing I did, after all that plotting, was to take his picture. He sure doesn't look as evil as he sounded.