does your soul cast about like an old paper bag?

I saw Neko Case at the BellyUp last night. It was better than I possibly could have hoped. Her voice was strong, clear, and piercing. Listening to her sing "Deep Red Bells" was enough to bring tears to my eyes. They played for over an hour and a half, nearly everything off of Fox Confessor Brings the Flood and all of my favorites from Blacklisted. Oh it was so fantastic. Only two parts of the evening were less than awesome- First, the show was sold out, which I hadn't expected, so I wasn't able to find a place to sit and read between sets. That was ok, because it basically forced me to stand very close to the stage and thus to see Neko in all of her completely un-madeup and aged, yet still beautiful, glory. Unfortunately, it also lead to the other semi-negative. The BellyUp is organized in tiered rows of long bar tables and stools to maximize the number of seats with a decent view. I was standing right at the end of one. I stood, patiently minding my own business, waiting for Neko to start, when someone tapped my shoulder. It was a niceish-looking guy in his mid-thirties, seated with his wife or girlfriend, who apparently felt sorry for the girl who obviously couldn't find company for the show. He struck up a conversation. They seemed friendly and harmless so I chatted with them briefly, and was ready to turn back to the stage when he asked "So, do you ever give your email or phone number to people?" I must have been visibly startled. I blurted, "Why?"
"Well, you know, to meet someone again, to get to know them better."
Crap. They weren't married, they weren't even dating. I don't get hit on especially often, so when it does happen I'm kind of slow on the uptake. I had no desire to see this uninteresting guy, at least ten years my senior, who was surprised I know what a clinical trial is ever again and I realized that this whole time I'd been telling the truth about myself when I should have been lying through my teeth.
Here's the second party I'm bad at- I don't like being mean, or giving fake numbers, and I'm especially bad when I'm on the spot. So I told him he could email me, and I gave him an address that doesn't use my real name. I couldn't even remember his... Needless to say, I felt a little distracted for Neko's show, though not enought to ruin it, as I tried to think of a way to get him to completely lose interest.
After the encore, I picked up my purse and jacket, shook his hand and said I had to go. "Oh, well we were going to hang around and have another drink if you're interested."
"Sorry, I told the babysitter I'd be home by 12 and I don't want to keep her waiting. G'night!"

Here's a picture of a black crowned night heron I saw outside of lab the other day. It was midafternoon, so I think he must have been startled from his roost. He was a bit disoriented and very cranky.