Rigby had forgotten about Graham's penchant for blowing up shit until that moment. All he knew was that it had gotten him in a fair bit of trouble at one point of his life; Graham's thoughts didn't linger on that, which was probably a good thing. And just because Graham saw himself free to love whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, didn't mean Rigby felt the same. Separate cars, then, and fun hanging out in Detroit until then.
"You're not. Fina's workin' right now and she knows me well enough to know I ain't gonna sit around and wait for her to come back." Rigby shrugged, "Needed to find something to do this evening anyway, and gettin' a gig's my favorite, you know that."
He finished off his beer, waving off the bartender as he started to approach him for another. One was plenty for him tonight. "Let's say Tuesday, then? Small cafe or lounge'll work for me, not interested in stupid big crowds, you know that. Hell, smaller place might even get you to sing." He smirked at Graham, figuring there was no way in hell he'd get his friend to sing with him unless there was a ton of alcohol involved. "I was travellin' when a lot of that was going on, the garage rock thing. I don't know how I never ended up this way, but I expect you to be showin' me the things I've missed."