Last Friday Night
Mama L and I rolled into Verm-town around 5, dumped our luggage, picked up my auction aunt (she likes to go to auctions, I didn't buy her at one), and headed to Careys for live music and free popcorn. I ordered a Colorado bulldog, sat back, and soaked it all in. I didn't recognize a single person there (except the one and only Steve Ward), yet just being there I felt like I was surrounded by friends. The band played a Neil Young cover and I thought, "Does it get any better than this?" Then I remembered my Viejo date with the girls, so I said I silent "yup!" and headed to BL's Prentice St. address to pick her up.
A funny thing happened as I saw each of my oh-so-missed friends in Mexico Viejo. First it was BL, then JF, MR, and finally GG and MW. The lights dimmed, a spotlight shined on their faces, and a movie star fan blew back their movie star hair, all in slow motion. Or so it seemed to me. I was just so happy to see them all, and so grateful that they were choosing to spend their Friday night with me! We sat down and as the waiter put down the chips and salsa in front of us, the same spotlight and movie star fan came over the mouth watering apps. Eventually the lighting went back to normal and we sat chatting at a long table in the back like I had been dreaming about doing for months. Viejo did not disappoint. I was full. I was buzzed. I was happy.
Then it was back to Careys where family and friends merged in the weird circular booth in the front. First family left, then a photoshoot to remember the night. I texted AB urging him to drop all Friday night plans, grab his O-town crew, and drive up to Verm for the night. Though my hopes were high, my expectations were low, and when DK texted me that they were on their way, I shook my head in disbelief and put my phone down on the ledge. I felt lucky.
Another long island iced tea and some quick conversations with young thetas later and suddenly I was in the middle of a three-part hug with some of my favorite Vermilionites turned O-towners. Then there were shots shots shots and oh-so happy.
Of course there was Char Bar, just as sticky and smelly as usual. Inappropriate touching on the dance floor: check. Shoes sticking to the floor: check. Rando passed out on his back on a booth puking: check. We did what we could for the abandoned alcohol poisoned dude, then went outside just in time for the firecrackers. The sound sent me back in a PTSD kinda way and I had to remind myself I wasn't in Harlem anymore. Then there was R Pizza, and I sat on the curb and watched as friends threw cheese balls into each others mouths.
Then there was a stumbling walk home with stories and heckling sort of like how it used to be but all together different. The night got fuzzy in a twice recycled party house on Pine Street where there was a clothing exchange and Nike high heels (not mine!). Trooper MR and I headed to auction aunt's house for a few hours of shut eye before the morning when real life would set in again.
The morning came and I said my goodbyes. Before I knew it, I was back on a plane to the place I pay rent and the job that pays me. For now.
A funny thing happened as I saw each of my oh-so-missed friends in Mexico Viejo. First it was BL, then JF, MR, and finally GG and MW. The lights dimmed, a spotlight shined on their faces, and a movie star fan blew back their movie star hair, all in slow motion. Or so it seemed to me. I was just so happy to see them all, and so grateful that they were choosing to spend their Friday night with me! We sat down and as the waiter put down the chips and salsa in front of us, the same spotlight and movie star fan came over the mouth watering apps. Eventually the lighting went back to normal and we sat chatting at a long table in the back like I had been dreaming about doing for months. Viejo did not disappoint. I was full. I was buzzed. I was happy.
Then it was back to Careys where family and friends merged in the weird circular booth in the front. First family left, then a photoshoot to remember the night. I texted AB urging him to drop all Friday night plans, grab his O-town crew, and drive up to Verm for the night. Though my hopes were high, my expectations were low, and when DK texted me that they were on their way, I shook my head in disbelief and put my phone down on the ledge. I felt lucky.
Another long island iced tea and some quick conversations with young thetas later and suddenly I was in the middle of a three-part hug with some of my favorite Vermilionites turned O-towners. Then there were shots shots shots and oh-so happy.
Of course there was Char Bar, just as sticky and smelly as usual. Inappropriate touching on the dance floor: check. Shoes sticking to the floor: check. Rando passed out on his back on a booth puking: check. We did what we could for the abandoned alcohol poisoned dude, then went outside just in time for the firecrackers. The sound sent me back in a PTSD kinda way and I had to remind myself I wasn't in Harlem anymore. Then there was R Pizza, and I sat on the curb and watched as friends threw cheese balls into each others mouths.
Then there was a stumbling walk home with stories and heckling sort of like how it used to be but all together different. The night got fuzzy in a twice recycled party house on Pine Street where there was a clothing exchange and Nike high heels (not mine!). Trooper MR and I headed to auction aunt's house for a few hours of shut eye before the morning when real life would set in again.
The morning came and I said my goodbyes. Before I knew it, I was back on a plane to the place I pay rent and the job that pays me. For now.
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