Glory Days
I thought Arrissia maybe shouldn't drive home, and she agreed, so we headed from the OC Weekly Christmas party we'd crashed on to the Juke Joint. After I got stuck outside, not wanting or able to pay a $12 cover, she came out to find me. Follow me, she said, but he knew me already, and she shot ahead like a 5'10 blonde dart while I was once again detained. When our bouncer finally decided he didn't care enough to keep me outside, and after I'd lied AGAIN about how I'd like to write up the anniversary show (featuring Big Sandy) for the District (out of area) or the Weekly (I don't work there no more), she sneaked in a second time. Really, it was preposterous. And when he finally, out of apathy, started to tear off two wrist bands, she sneaked in AGAIN before he could even get them torn off. He started to get pissed, but what could he do? She was a shadow, a sneaky 5'10 blonde shadow, and she was already up by the stage.
The show was magnificent, as I'd already heard from outside, and all the girls by the stage were friendly and darling. With one song to go, we headed on home. And after we'd given a kite-high lecture to my newest roommate, my little brother's ex-girlfriend, about men who will do you wrong, we reminisced about the glory days. Oh, we knew about that.
There we were, handing down pronouncements from Olympus, while our best judgment had led us to be simultaneously in love with Mikey and Mario, bandmates in Bourbon Jones. "Remember how Mikey used to carve shit in his stomach?" I asked, all high and dreamy-like. "And remember that night he got electrocuted three times?" The only reason we aren't still together is he showed up for one of our dates four hours late, with Emily in his van, and that's when I realized we probably weren't going out.
"That doesn't sound that good on paper," Arrissia observed. Oh, really, Miss Ris? What about your everlasting love Mario, whose most enduring quote remains "The hand goes up, the mouth goes shut"? "That doesn't sound that good on paper either," Ris fairly noted.
We howled and we cackled and we probably guffawed. Despite all our mooning about our oldliness, 26 is good and gone, and I do think I'm okay with that.
Still, I'll always miss Long Beach.
Noted.
The show was magnificent, as I'd already heard from outside, and all the girls by the stage were friendly and darling. With one song to go, we headed on home. And after we'd given a kite-high lecture to my newest roommate, my little brother's ex-girlfriend, about men who will do you wrong, we reminisced about the glory days. Oh, we knew about that.
There we were, handing down pronouncements from Olympus, while our best judgment had led us to be simultaneously in love with Mikey and Mario, bandmates in Bourbon Jones. "Remember how Mikey used to carve shit in his stomach?" I asked, all high and dreamy-like. "And remember that night he got electrocuted three times?" The only reason we aren't still together is he showed up for one of our dates four hours late, with Emily in his van, and that's when I realized we probably weren't going out.
"That doesn't sound that good on paper," Arrissia observed. Oh, really, Miss Ris? What about your everlasting love Mario, whose most enduring quote remains "The hand goes up, the mouth goes shut"? "That doesn't sound that good on paper either," Ris fairly noted.
We howled and we cackled and we probably guffawed. Despite all our mooning about our oldliness, 26 is good and gone, and I do think I'm okay with that.
Still, I'll always miss Long Beach.
Noted.
posted by rebecca at 8:58 PM
3 Comments:
Almost a month since your last post. Ahhh yes this page is past its "glory days" like it author. It's time for you to look for a full time teaching job with our great government indocternation oops, I mean public school system. Tenure just about the time you give up all hope of making a difference, ahhh what sweet nervana.
Have a wonderful New Year!
Maybe there is someone you can blow to get your old job back?
This page never had any glory days; it was merely meant to sell shirts.
Happy New Year!
Beccalou
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