When you become an adult, no one, or most often no one, stops you from waking up at noon. You’re just lazy. You’re a slob if you do, but you are free to do it.
I woke up at noon and sat back until four in the backseat of a used car with a broken seat-belt running errands in South Philadelphia. My dad and his sister bought me an acupressure wristband because I ran out of Dramamine. I can’t handle Philadelphia driving. Speed bumps are dismissed and stop signs are ignored completely. It’s like riding shotgun in a go-kart with poor brakes.
Lucky for me, I’m a fool and believe that acupressure works. The placebo effect is sufficient.
We dined with cousins and first cousins at a fine Italian restaurant, Stanniccio’s (what a name!) where we spent so much that we were gifted free orange cello, a liquor.
I don’t know if it’s clear to you that I am afraid of alcohol and, actually, all things mature and adult, but I am. That’s an exaggeration, but I don’t drink. I’m still holding onto some semblance of innocence that was completely spent around the time my first long-term girlfriend lied about her pregnancy,
But I don’t drink.
I was served the alcohol and most of my relatives pushed me to man up, with the exception of my aunt,
“Joel, it’s fine if you don’t to drink it as long as you know that we won’t love you if you don’t”
Or something.
I moved the shot glass around the table, grimacing and weeping, but I succumbed to the pressure (acupressure) and knocked it down.
From there, I cut my hands on the broken glass of the bottles I smashed to suckle every drop of alcohol I could find. I flipped the table when it went dry. I had to be knocked unconscious by the maître’D and THEN the police were called.
The worst thing was,
I didn’t even like the taste.
In the evening, my dad and I sat on my aunt’s porch and I listened to him wax nostalgic. We tried to sing harmonies to “Summer in the City” by the Lovin’ Spoonful and cackled as attractive women strode past. I was sober, too.
My dad stopped me as I was explaining my views on alternative fuel or the fall of the nation-state or whatever and said,
“Joel, this is a song. This moment is a song.”
It took him five minutes, but he found it.
We listened to it as I welcomed adulthood.
1 comment:
(Laughter.) Thank you very much. You know, you don't diverge from the path et cetera, et cetera. That's why I think the way to true happiness can only be achieved by connecting with the world. I would like to share my experience with this. You need surprises. How many of you would not agree? I believe that a mirror is by far not as nice as a photo panorama. All of a sudden, you will see the difference once you look at the science behind it all. Consider this: There was a patient who is health-wise on par with the average resident of the United States. He knows the benefits of coffee that is quite nuanced in the same way that our neurons are. Efficient trimming causes the brain to realize that you look at the averages only. In this case you want to get your brain to be creative all of a sudden. It's like a weekend in Rome that's full of coffee - you know it will be wonderful.
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