I met Gina Phillips at a party at the Truck Farm.
by David Rhoden. Day .
Tom Beeman invited me to a party at the Truck Farm. It felt sort of like a gathering of multiple smaller parties. I didn't know many people besides Tom. but there were sort of converdational circles forming, and I mingled.
At one point a few of use were sitting on the grass in a loose circle. There was a really pretty girl with small glass to my left. I didn't know who she was. (This was Gina.) She was talking to this guy James Martin, a local artist. I wanted to get in the conversation so I could meet the girl but James was really holding forth. The girl was listening actively. I figured I didn't have a chance. It looked like she maybe kinda liked this guy. I got kind of tired of listening to him go on.
Then James paused mid-sentence, leaned over, and farted, loudly, in her direction. She looked a bit shocked.
I said "All right, that's it," and with all the courage or bravado I had I leaned over and took her hand. "Let's go somewhere else."
I wish I could quote and not paraphrase our first meeting. Maybe I've elided other details; it's possible we had been introduced and I just don't remember that part. But the gist of it is I got her to move away from this noisy art philosopher and come talk to me.
New Orleans Truck Farm Whiskeybutt Tom Beeman James Martin Gina stories
