When a little luck travels a long way . . .
The last time I left you, my fair and wonderful readers, I was methodically working a little Pia-Charm around every hotel in Amsterdam in a praying hope to find a willing donor to sedate my need for a little helpless love and affection. I’ll admit it was not the most noble or even moral way to get a child –and hanging around a street corner was not an option!– but it was a practical bit of logic that inevitable failed me. My short little baby-making window expired leaving me hopping a plane to Berlin to join my band mates for our highly anticipated appearance feeling truly abysmal over my failure.
I was SO not in the mood to be all cheery!
Although I met a few great guys, like Önal Benham, and even received a few offers for my next time around I was still left with an empty oven and a heavy heart. Mum was working so she wasn’t even able to send me off like she usually does –though we shared a good pint of ice cream the day before. What I had not expected was for a bad start for a tour to change so very drastically.
It started off with something small. Instead of having to play catch-up with the crew, Phil was ever the sweetie and was standing there waiting for me on the other side of customs. He then swept me to the hotel where Madison, my other band mate, joined us for a light lunch before we take the Berlin stage for the biggest show on our tour. That positive vibe that I always get before a show was starting to over-ride the butterflies of nerves and prior disappointment as I grew excited.
Although, on a grand scale of things, it was only a below average show it was a break through for such a small barely known group such as us. It was elating and a perfect kick start to our tour. The curtains close and after packing up the cello and drums, we start to head out of the club towards the hotel when a silhouetted figure stood outside the door. One that I had not expected to see at all.
Down on one knee with a sparkling silver engagement ring in hand, was Jules Das proposing to me only after briefing offering to help me conceive. Floored by this man’s initiative to not only propose and ‘do right by me’ when it comes to parenting, but to then fly a few hundred miles to Berlin just to propose. . . after only meeting me barely a week ago. There was only one logical answer that I could possibly give him:
“Are You Nuts?!”
At this point, something really needs to be said about putting yourself out there. Walking around with my bra straps showing was really out of character for me. I like my modest sensibly styled clothes. It was an experiment and although it had not yielded the results I initially intended to gain, somehow there was an unexpected side effect to my little jaunts in the Amsterdam Hotels. Yet because I stepped out of my comfort zone, I met him. He was taking a chance on me, should I not at least do the same?
Maybe it was lust at first site, but at least something good came of my little experiencing. Here I thought I would pay dearly for my little stunt, and somehow the stars decided to bring me a little fortune in the form of a Tsar of Heavy Metal. Talk about a life changing experience. Thank Kobe for Aphrodisiacs!
