Texas Tales: Demons got him…

I’m sitting alone in a booth at a downtown Austin bar. I have my phone camera on, in my hand, videotaping Paul, on stage. I started at the ladies restroom, as soon as I arrived, slightly late. It’s about 11 pm now. There were so many people there when I arrived that I went straight to the restroom, skipping my normal stop for a glass of red wine. When I came out of the restroom there were people in front of me, every direction, so I filmed mostly Paul’s back, holding my phone camera up over everyone’s heads.

Maybe he saw me come in, probably, navigating my way through the shoulders and tables and conversations and enrapt viewers of Paul’s band. Maybe not, but probably, because a few minutes after I emerged from the restroom I heard him go into the opening notes of “Bad Boy.” He knows that’s my favorite. So, to be sure, I took $5. out of my purse and, still filming, broke my way through to put it in the tip jar a few feet in front of him as he played up on the stage. It was my way of telling him I was there. I went back to the sidelines in front of the restroom, still filming. A nice lady scooted over a bit so I had a better view, still filming, I smiled and thanked her and kept my phone camera on Paul. End of “Bad Boy” he kept going straight into his favorite song, “Hostess.” I just kept filming, my arm was growing tired but he’d played my song, it was only fair I kept recording his. So I did. It took 30 minutes of my holding my camera, often over my head, to capture it all. So when he finished “Hostess” I hit stop and headed to the long wooden bar to order my red wine.

After that, I was kindly allowed to sit in a spare seat at some couple stranger’s table. I smiled, said thanks, got settled, drank some wine, turned my camera back on. I noticed an empty seat at a booth. So I threaded my way with my wine over to it, sat down, still recording. I’ve filmed my shows like this for a decade now. I simply film what it is actually like. My shows are like windows into worlds, you are me, we’re there.

Then, the occupants of the only booth between me and the stage, in front of mine, decide they are leaving. Still filming, I get up and move to their booth. Now I’m as close to the stage on the same side as Paul as humanly possible. A handsome 30s lone guy sits down at my booth, asking my permission. I’m still filming. He leans across the table and sortof yells asking my name. He says he’s Greg. I yell back, “Greg??” He’s handsome, black short hair, tall, college looking. He leans to me and yells, “Craig,” as in “Craig’s List.” “Oh, Craig!” “What’s YOUR name?” he yells, interested. “Angel!!” I yell back with a sweet smile. Feeling suddenly mischievious I add, “Angel,” as in “Demon.” I laugh remembering the time or two boyfriends of mine have figured that out about me, at least in their eyes, as I’ve gone toe to toe with them by making them observe other men desiring me, as I’ve had to put up with from them doing that to me. It sortof hits them like a lightning bolt how intelligent and spiritually attuned I am, and adept at serving them lessons without a word.

“Do you know him? Paul…” he stumbles at his last name.

“Val,” I say. “Just a little bit.”

“He made a clever play on words in his last song, 110th Street. He substituted South Congress. I came here in the early days when C-Boy’s was named somethingimissed. He reminds me of Stevie Ray Vaughan.”

“He has a tattoo…” I say

“Of Stevie?” I nod yes.

“He just got back from touring France and Spain.” I turn back towards the stage, filming the entire time, nonstop, still. Paul catches my eye in a millisecond signal. I get up as he leans out over the edge of the stage allowing me to film him from a foot away. I do, Paul turns back to the band, the audience. I sit back down in a practiced fluid movement, camera steadily on him, filming non-stop.

Handsome guy is gone the next time I notice. Demons got him, lol.

Copyright 2025 Angel Isaacs All Rights Reserved

Written November 13, 2025 at 5:19 pm