K got in from New York on Thursday night. She brought her friend J, whom I had never met. They came straight to the bar from the airport, just in time to hear a really crap band play a really crap cover of Eric Cl@pton's "Cocaine"- a really crap song to begin with, in my opinion. So I took a break and got them and myself a drink and went outside where we could hear each other talk.
I haven't seen K since Halloween, and it was remarkable how little had changed, how I felt like she hadn't been gone at all. It made me think that I probably really need to get the hell out of this town. I swear we were having the same conversation that we had had the night before she left, and the night before that, and the week before that, and so on back to the time when I first met her.
Last night I met them downtown at eleven. They had already been drinking for hours, since some friends of K's got married that afternoon. We had a beer at one bar, then moved on to the 40 watt and then to the Caledonia. K wanted to give J the whole tour. There were good bands playing at both clubs, but we didn't hear much music because we kept running into people we knew (most of whom had not spoken to K since she left).
At some point, somebody brought up R0n Jeremy. I have no idea why, but it lead to me telling J the briefest possible version of the Night That I met R0n Jeremy story. It was amusing. I hadn't thought about it in ages.
Approximately thirty minutes later, my phone rang. It was T, drunk as fuck, calling from Chicago. He was at a work party (which explained the level of drunkenness). The first thing out of his mouth?
"Hey Bartender, can you e-mail me that picture of you and Ron Jeremy?"
Bizarre. I still haven't found it, but now that I've remembered I'm going to go hunt for it again.
A.J.'s movie is out now. I still haven't gone to see it, because it isn't playing locally, but I am trying to get to Atlanta. You should go. Like, all four of you. It's called The Signal, and I haven't seen it since they put the music in, but I'm sure it kicks even more ass. The Boston Globe thought he was particularly good. That made me really happy. Many reviewers don't seem to understand it. That makes me sad. For the record, I think the middle of the movie (it is in three parts) is hilarious. Hi. Lar. Ious.
In other news, I found several gray hairs on my head the other day. It's the stupid lighting at the Big Stupid Box Store. Don't they know that bar lighting is better for everybody? I called Shayne in a panic, but she was in NYC. Crap! I need a dye job. Badly. And a haircut.
In conclusion, the weekend was a whirlwind. I saw K several times, much drinking was done, and much talking, and I found myself not having much to say. I think it's time for a change of scenery. But the big question: Not where will I go, or what will I do when I get there, but What will I call my blog?
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