The paint has been dry and the liquor stocked for weeks now at Port City Music Hall. But despite my earnest curiosity, I still hadn't been in the place.

I walked past it nearly every day and could only imagine what wonders lay beyond the black & white show posters in the Congress Street windows. (With a little help from the under construction sneak peaks from Hilly Town and Avery Yale Kamila.)

Destiny finally took charge - because I wasn't being "proactive" enough, or so I was told - and I found myself with ticket in hand at the Port City Music Hall doors last night.

When we walked in, Vermont-based Jazz Mandolin Project was putting the acoustics to the test on stage - and the hall was packed. I didn't recognize that once-a-club space that was formerly part of The Stadium.

High-top tables and couches filled the bar area, which was ambiently lit by dozens of rectangular light panels lining the walls from floor to ceiling (and that ceiling is a high one. Like rock gym high).

Most music venues still carry the scars from years of spilled beer and cigarette smoke. But Port City Music Hall feels shwanky. You could even still smell the fresh varnish - and your feet don't even stick to the floor. Bonus.

It's dark, too. The kind of dark that still allows you to see the general outline of a face, but that's dark enough that you can't tell if that guy at the bar is your 32-year-old former coworker or a 62-year-old stranger. The staring, of course, doesn't help confirm one way or another and ultimately just ends up frightening people.

I did my best to capture a few slightly blurred but usable photos (so's I could share this virgin venture with you, of course) but was interrupted mid-snap by Port City security.

It's a photo-free show, I was informed. That fact is noted on the Congress Street windows. You know, the ones I walk past every day.

"Sorry, I had no idea," I said. It wasn't my intention to break house rules.

A friend standing nearby stepped in. "She's press," she said, hoping to smooth things over.

"Yes," I thought. "I'm Shannon. You might remember me from the literary prowess of Couch to Beacon '08 or the ceiling-dangling mastery evidenced on the current cover of Switch. I'm just spilling over with credibility."

Instead I apologized again and tucked my camera away. The security guy was thoroughly polite about it and I felt like a supreme jerk for not reading the signs. Plus I liked the place so far and I didn't care to land myself on the "banned" list just yet. All in good time, folks.

So we cut our way into the crowd to enjoy the show. The Jazz Mandolin Project, while normally a trio, was backed by drummer Jon Fishman of Phish fame.

I also found out that Mr. Fishman calls Maine home these days. One person last night insisted he lived in Belfast, though Google tells me it's Lincolnville. I don't know who to believe. My informant is herself living in Belfast (though hadn't yet had a Fishman sighting) and Google has lied to me before (but we've talked it out and remain friends).

Guess I'll not worry over it either way.

But you know who else has ties to Maine (so I discovered through my online Fishman search)? Sir Hiram Stevens Maxim, the inventor of the first portable, fully automatic machine gun. He was born in Sangerville. He's also credited with the "Captive Flying Machine" amusement park ride, which doesn't really make up for the whole machine gun thing, but should count for something.

But I digress.

If you haven't yet had the chance to take in Port City Music Hall, get on it.

Check out the Port City Music Hall Insider for updates on upcoming shows.