It was the confluence of Art Walk and Spring Break, a momentous event predicted by the Mayan calendar. Warren figured Jim would want to quit a little after 8:00, but wanted to keep playing himself, so he invited me to come take Jim's place again. Sounded like a great idea to me. When I got there, they had procured the corner in front of Fingerhut Gallery, 'cuz Sanchez had beaten them to the Greeter's Corner. That was second best, but we'd had good luck there the night before. Unfortunately, Art Walk is unlike any other night because everybody is intent on the wine and cheese at the galleries, and not wanting to hang out much outside where there isn't free stuff.
It's frustrating, because it's the night with the most people out and about, and they're generally well-lubricated as the night goes on, but I've never been able to really snag a crowd -- all I see is people in a big hurry to Get Somewhere.
We had some small successes, and some high school boys that had hung out with us a while the night before came by for more, but I'm starting to think it's the *worst* night to be out there, not the best.
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