Having done a few college and university tours all by my lonesome, I can attest that having company makes all the difference.

In fact, just a few days into my first tour up the West Coast, I found myself deeply starved for human interaction: I remember having a quite an interesting and long winded conversation with some random dude on the street in Seattle who was trying desperately to sell me crack or a hand job only moments before… and if hindsight truly is 20/20, I think I should have been doing this a long time ago, and I don’t mean smoking crack, accepting hand jobs from strangers, or having longwinded conversations—I mean touring with dudes like Cory.

We had a lot of fun on our brief stint up the West Coast—

April 18th 2010 – Visalia House Concert
April 19th 2010 – 210 Café in Visalia, CA
April 23rd 2010 – Red Rocks Café in Mountain View, CA
April 25th 2010 – The Kilns in Bend, OR

but in all honesty, Cory beat me to the punch in terms of blogging about it in a very engaging fashion. So, if you find yourself yearning for a more comprehensive and chronological account of our exploits, I invite you to check out Cory’s blog (not to mention his music):

http://coryjoseph.com/?p=218

More blogs coming soon (I have a lot to write about), so stay tuned.

- Mike

I recently had the luxury of sitting down with myself to conduct an exclusive interview.  Having interviewed and/or spoken to several artists just like myself, I was definitely looking forward to the conversation regarding various topics.  However, while on a surface level, Mike seems like a wonderful person, in my own humble opinion, it became increasingly apparent as our interview unfolded that he doesn’t handle questions very well—you decide.

Mike:  So, what was the inspiration behind this interview with your self?

Mike:  Well Mike, I think a one-half serving of Playboy’s Playmate of the Month interviews, and God knows what else—I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.  It’s like the story behind the breasts, except—I don’t have breasts.

Mike:  Well, we should probably be moving forward to the first question.

What are your biggest turn-ons?

Mike:  Wait, isn’t this the second question?—never mind.  I guess you’re the expert.  Hmm, turn-ons… definitely when someone asks good questions—and a sense of humor: I like that.  You seem to lack one of these traits.

Mike:  What are your biggest turn-offs?

Mike:  Talking to myself: this conversation is over.  Just kidding.

Mike:  What’s the worst place for a guy to hit on you?

Mike:  Pretty much anywhere.  I had a guy hit on me at a bar a few months ago—I was shocked by his horrible singing voice, and he was taken aback by my preference for vagina.

Mike:  What’s the worst pick-up line you’ve ever heard?

Mike:  It’s less of a pickup line, and more of an effort to get my attention.  The same guy I mentioned previously was snapping pictures of me from the table next to ours trying desperately to make eye contact with me—I think he had his fair share of wine that night and was craving some Italian.

Mike:  What’s the best or most creative pick-up line you’ve ever heard?

Mike:  What is it with you and pickup lines?   I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone use a pickup line on me before—I’ve had someone buy me a drink.  Does that count?  My roommate asked me once if my parents were retarded—I said, no.  He then qualified this with “you’re pretty special.”

Mike:  What approach is most likely to work with you?

Mike:  Are we talking about boys or girls?  Honestly, where the hell are you getting these questions from?

Mike:  What signals do you give to a man when you want him to make the first move?

Mike:  You seriously took these questions straight out of a Playboy Playmate of the Month interview, didn’t you?  Did you consider reversing the gender to make this appropriate and applicable in terms of a standard interview?  What can someone possibly walk away with here?  They’ve learned nothing about me!  Can you ask me something meaningful?  I don’t know—perhaps something about my new website that just launched, or maybe my new E.P. that just went on sale today?  How about something about iTunes, and how they take 33% of an artist’s profits right off the top, and how it’s better to buy the music directly off an independent artist’s website.  Maybe something about buying my new CD online at http://www.mikevitalemusic.com.

[At this point, I seem noticeably flustered].

Mike:  I’ll ask the questions, thank you very much.  Have you ever been in a situation when two men competed for your attention at the same time? Who won, and why?

Mike:  This is ridiculous—I’m done [removing microphone from collar and throwing it on my chair as I walk away].

Step 1:  Keep your mouth shut.

Step 2:  Keep it shut.

Step 3:  Wow, that was tempting, maybe I should speak up… no I’m resolute.

Step 4:  Don’t make eye contact.

Step 5:  Was that a camera flash?

Step 6:  Woops, I looked.

Step 7:  Wait, did he just wink at me?

Let me explain.

It all started off as an innocent evening of music going.  I was out to watch two of my many favorite local talents, Yeah, Brother, and Danny Maika.  At the conclusion of Yeah, Brother’s set at McClain’s Coffeehouse, I rendezvoused with two friends of mine, Max (who plays Banjo in the group Yeah, Brother) and his lovely girlfriend, Taryn, for an evening of minimalist debauchery at another local haunt of mine, The Pint House in downtown Fullerton a few blocks away.

Now, Taryn, Max, and I arrived just in time to catch Danny’s set.  Having my heart set on getting a little heady, I ordered a few pints of Guinness, and if I were to measure my progress in getting pissed by glasses consumed, I was somewhere around 3 or 4 before my interesting predicament occurred.  It all started with a note:

“So, whatcha drinkin’?”

The note was passed along to me from a young lady I am an acquaintance of, sitting at the table next to us.  Now, for the record, Brittany was not the author of the note; she was just the messenger.  In fact, the penman was a dude next to her whom I had made eye contact with briefly and gave a friendly smile (mistake #1 for those of you who may be keeping count).

Now, that evening, I was running under the assumption that everyone at the neighboring table are friends of one another.  Since I knew a couple of people in their group, and I was bouncing back and forth talking with various individuals seated there, I didn’t think much on the note I received, and cordially replied verbally to the written inquiry by saying to the gentleman out loud, “Guinness” (mistake #2).  I resumed my conversation with Taryn and Max, enjoyed listening to Danny Maika, and went on with my evening as planned.

As fate would have it, when our waitress magically appears at the table again with another round of drinks for Max and Taryn, she also happens to have a pint of Guinness that I didn’t order.  I was perplexed and pointed out that I didn’t order this drink, to which she replies, “Yes, I know.  He ordered it for you,” pointing to the author of the note; he waves.  Decision time:

a.)   Do I accept the beer from the stranger at the table next to me?

b.)  Do I refuse the beer?

I’m not one for being rude or un-cordial, so I accepted the beer and enjoyed it (mistake #3).  By doing so, perhaps I implied any number of things to the gentleman that bought me the beer:

1.    My cordial smile and head nod when we made eye contact earlier in the evening meant something more than “hello.”

2.    Like the Skittles ads, I taste the rainbow.

Unfortunately for him (and awkwardly for me), neither of these are true, however, at this point, it was too late.  I spent roughly the next 45 minutes avoiding his heavy drunken gaze and continued efforts to flirt from 10 feet away.  These included awkward long stares that I couldn’t help but notice from my peripheral as he tried in vain to initiate a visual exchange by persistently snapping photographs of me with a bright flash; he then would follow this with several stares or gestures that made Taryn laugh hysterically next to me.  At this point, I had already been taking flack from her considering my acceptance of the free drink and my explanation that I think it carried intentions beyond getting me drunk.

At the conclusion of Danny’s set, my drunken admirer invited himself over for a friendly chat, in which case, I stuck around for a minute or two, and then excused myself to go use the restroom.  Upon my arrival back, I catch the tail end of Max, Taryn’s, and my not-so-secret admirer’s conversation about him being an Interscope Records recording artist who was dropped from his label because his music was “too dark.”  I thanked him for the beer, after which he replied, “my pleasure” with a hint of facial grimace, and then he left.

Joey, if you ever end up reading this, I mean no offense and find your advances flattering, however, I prefer to keep the company of a woman.  I can’t help it and hope you understand.  Please don’t take offense, and thank you for the Guinness; it was cold, delicious, my favorite, and I appreciated the gesture.  If I can carry anything home from this story, I think it’s cool that we (as human beings with feelings and passion) are progressively moving towards a world where one man can hit on another in an open public space and the worst thing that happens is a blog.  My hat goes off to you Joey (and I mean that with the most respect possible); you know who you are and you are proud of it!  I wish more people could truly say that about themselves.

So, until the next time I get hit-on by a man, or until I find something else to write about, this is Mike Vitale saying, salutations, and thank you for reading.

- Mike