The Blue Monk

Sandy's Event #3

We were invited by our friends Jeff and Mia to see a jazz group called Di Terra at The Blue Monk, a not-smoky basement jazz club with a really long beer list. I'll start out by saying that the cover was $8, which is more than I would normally ever consider spending for a band I've never heard of, but I was really desperate for social interaction. The music was abysmal. It sounded like the half hour before a band actually starts playing -- when they are just, like, tuning their instruments. At one point the bassist was actually beating the strings with his bow. This is all especially interesting given what transpired about 20 minutes into the show. Audience members began "shhhhing" those of us who were talking (quietly, mind you) with one another at our tables. This led my party and I to stop conversing and look toward the stage, where the bassist (who looked like Larry David) was standing, hands on hips, and glaring demonstratively at a particularly chatty booth. At one point he raised his hand like a bird beak and did the universal hand motion for "blah blah blah." Incredible! Since when is it expected to sit with hands folded and devote 100% attention to BAR MUSIC? The promoter actually made some cockamemy announcement at intermission, like "Please show respect to the band by not talking..." I felt completely justified in walking out in the middle of a "song." What a bunch of dickheads! These cultural events are really on a roll...