Her text - a quick note to tell me that she got back into Bowling Green safely - woke me up. It was 1:35am on a Friday night. Facing an alarm that was set to go off at 7am, the pragmatic side of me beat out the partying side and decided to go to bed just after 11pm. But now her text had woken me up and I couldn't get back to sleep.
"Glad you got home ok. Thanks again for dropping by. Good night. xoxo."
I got up and paced around the house.
From my front window, I could hear the sound of drums. A band had rented out the patio of the restaurant across the street from me and was using it for a photo shoot. The restaurant was busy on the weekends, so this was apparently the only time that the photo shoot could be done. Neighbors-be-damned, I guess. Fucking assholes.
The band was pretending to play while the photographer took pictures. The bass and guitars weren't plugged into an amp, so they were inaudible from across the street. I could hear the singer, though, and his unimpressive squawking. And the drummer - pretend or not, he didn't seem to have any qualms about making a racket. Even if I had wanted to go back to bed, that little fucker would be keeping me up anyway.
The fish needed feeding - had totally forgotten to do that earlier. If anything, her text and that fucking drummer ensured that no tetras or guppies would be starving to death tonight. I made my way over to the fishtank in the kitchen, searching in relative darkness for the can of flakes. With the lights out, I could see the Big Dipper from my kitchen window, along with the full moon, which was providing all the illumination I needed.
Fish were fed. Drums still played haphazardly. The band seemed to be having a sing-along, as there was a plurality of squawks now - a plurality of fucking assholes.
1:35am on a Friday night. With enough alcoholic motivation, I could make it to a bar in time for at least two drinks - maybe a third if one of the nicer bartenders was there to let me stick around after closing time. Pragmatism's victory had become short-lived - circumstance didn't really give it a chance. Despite the early wake-up time, despite the fact that I was unshowered, and despite the fact that I had suddenly started having some fairly-vicious stomach cramps, I put on my slacks and shoes, grabbed a dress shirt, and made my way out.
"Glad you got home ok. Thanks again for dropping by. Good night. xoxo."
I got up and paced around the house.
From my front window, I could hear the sound of drums. A band had rented out the patio of the restaurant across the street from me and was using it for a photo shoot. The restaurant was busy on the weekends, so this was apparently the only time that the photo shoot could be done. Neighbors-be-damned, I guess. Fucking assholes.
The band was pretending to play while the photographer took pictures. The bass and guitars weren't plugged into an amp, so they were inaudible from across the street. I could hear the singer, though, and his unimpressive squawking. And the drummer - pretend or not, he didn't seem to have any qualms about making a racket. Even if I had wanted to go back to bed, that little fucker would be keeping me up anyway.
The fish needed feeding - had totally forgotten to do that earlier. If anything, her text and that fucking drummer ensured that no tetras or guppies would be starving to death tonight. I made my way over to the fishtank in the kitchen, searching in relative darkness for the can of flakes. With the lights out, I could see the Big Dipper from my kitchen window, along with the full moon, which was providing all the illumination I needed.
Fish were fed. Drums still played haphazardly. The band seemed to be having a sing-along, as there was a plurality of squawks now - a plurality of fucking assholes.
1:35am on a Friday night. With enough alcoholic motivation, I could make it to a bar in time for at least two drinks - maybe a third if one of the nicer bartenders was there to let me stick around after closing time. Pragmatism's victory had become short-lived - circumstance didn't really give it a chance. Despite the early wake-up time, despite the fact that I was unshowered, and despite the fact that I had suddenly started having some fairly-vicious stomach cramps, I put on my slacks and shoes, grabbed a dress shirt, and made my way out.
