It was annoying.
Six aging frat fucks were drinking a twelve pack of Sam Adams on the sidewalk in front of the bar.
I went out to shoo them away.
"Hey guys, you can't drink in front the bar."
They were loud and fat.
"WELL, THEN WE'LL DRINK AT YOUR BAR!!!"
So they all proceeded to pile into the bar with their Sam Adams in hand.
"Hold on, guys. You can't bring that in here."
"WHADDAYA MEAN?!"
Really?
"You can't bring in outside drinks to a bar."
They thought I was being a Nazi.
One of them tried to get past me.
I had to physically stand in front of him.
"You can't bring that in here."
"WELL, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH IT?!"
I pointed to the end of the block.
He pfft'ed and chugged his Sam Adams a few yards off the property.
One of his friends chimed in.
"They're just trying to have fun."
Yes.
You're right.
I'm the asshole.
Their ID's said they were all from Arizona.
"Where's your gun?" I joked.
They didn't think this was funny.
"I'm just trying to have fun."
All night they kept attempting to sneak beer out onto the street.
Sometimes they were successful.
Usually while I was reading.
Brian became annoyed with me.
"Tony, you gotta look up sometimes!"
I wished I cared.
"Next time," I said unconvincingly.
After a hideous dance flabfest, they finally left.
In the aftermath, I discovered a bunch of bottles on the sidewalk.
Brian said they were "special needs".
So that was annoying.
I got home around 3am.
I woke up at 5am.
Today I was PAing on an insurance commercial.
Sven and Ned from the hockey shoot put me on it.
Thankfully it was mellow.
I mostly sat groggily outside the studio door and made sure no one opened it.
While feigning alertness, an email popped up on my phone.
It was from my friend Sandy.
I hadn't heard from her in thirteen years.
Crazy!
Sandy and I were close friends in high school.
She accompanied me on many of my aimless drives.
Sometimes we drove to forest preserves.
Sometimes we drove to the city.
She indulged me in whatever musical obsession was going on at the time.
Beatles, Who, Stones, Doors, Danzig, Misfits, Elvis, Black Flag, Beastie Boys, Animals, Beatles, Who, Floyd, Misfits, Danzig, Elvis...
I remember she didn't like "Return of the Fly" by The Misfits.
She said it didn't have a good beat.
I tried to convince her to like the song by singing along with it in my little indoors-Danzig head voice, and soon learned this tactic had the opposite effect.
I do remember she liked "Connection" from the Stones' Between The Buttons cassette.
She sang along to the chorus.
Sometimes we hung out and made our own goofy music.
She had just acquired a guitar and learned the Peter Gunn riff.
So we recorded some songs for her sister Carrie.
Oh I should mention.
I was in love with Carrie.
Or as close to what you think love is when you're 15-17.
I chased after her in my dumb weird way the moment she walked into biology class on the first day of sophomore year.
I wrote her notes.
I drew her cartoons.
I did everything but ask her out on a date.
Because I knew the answer would be no.
And it would put an end to the chase.
And hanging out.
And all hope.
15!
For her 16th birthday I tossed a bunch of watermelons off of my garage roof onto a birthday cake while a boombox played a tape of me singing an off-key "Happy Birthday".
Carrie found it peculiarly flattering, but ultimately wasn't wooed.
But they both seemed to accept my dorky, harmless quirks.
I just mostly ended up hanging out with Sandy.
We lost touch around the time I got involved with improv and she got involved with Spain.
Over the years I would occasionally search for her online.
But to no avail.
So when her email popped up today, it woke me up.
She said she had found me through this blog, and offered encouraging words about my writing.
I replied back.
I look forward to catching up with her.
After all, I've gone through a lot of changes.
Beach Boys, Jan & Dean, Who, Beatles, Elvis, Danzig, Misfits...
Verdict: Win
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