Shaun had me worried that today was going to be our busiest morning shift together of all time, and I honestly wasn't all that worried, but ready, and thankfully it wasn't very busy at all. Or maybe it was. I can't tell anymore. I remember pulling shots for a latte at some point and thinking, tragically, that I have probably made a hundred thousand lattes in my life. What kind of achievement is that? It's not all bad, though. Think of all the dairy farms I've kept in business. I take pride in knowing I can still count on my hands how many times I've accidentally given someone decaf espresso, or vice versa. I've over/under-extracted plenty of shots in my day, but that can be saved by proper milk foam, so whatever. I didn't want to talk about coffee here. It's sad how little I actually know about coffee, but how easily I could make you a cappuccino with my eyes closed.
That said, I sign out from work and head home for a moment to grab the flat-tire bike on the porch and bring it back to John's shop where the tires get pumped up and the brakes get a quick adjustment and that's that. I've never been so glad to have a bike shop for a neighbor. Hell, I've never had a bike shop for a neighbor before. I make a note to pick up a better lock tomorrow.
After a little bit of writing at home, I take a nap.
Around 5-ish, Jenny comes over and we lay about for a while before hopping on our bikes and starting our Second Saturday adventure. It's not hard to find Brett and Sonya's house because they're outside playing games on the front lawn with 90's music on the radio. "Chrispresso!" Brett shouts excitedly, welcoming us as the second and third guests. Everyone introduces themselves. We're invited to grab beers from the cooler on the porch, which we do, and Jenny and I play Ladder Toss while the others continue a heated match of Cornhole. Strangers walk by and take interest in our fun times and some of these strangers turn out to be friends of Brett and Sonya's, so they join us and grab beers and start up conversations and mingle and Jenny and I sit on the stairs for a while and watch this large crowd form around us and it's pretty impressive to see all these friends and classmates and coworkers coming together like this. We meet Tony, the MBA student, and his girlfriend Mariah, the state-worker quitting her job to go to a yoga farm, and Witt, who works for McCormick spices, and his girlfriend, Carla, who does marketing work for SN&R, and then Richard and Katherine walk by and promise to bring drums to the bonfire (eventually) and Lyle happens to come by, another customer I know, and with all the familiar faces and conversations with new friends and good weather, it really becomes one of those perfect small-town Midtown moments. Jenny tries to convince me she's only 21 (she's 23) and at some point she looks around and says, "These are grown-ups," and it's true, though most are only 27 or 28, and it's neat to see that the Young Professional life still allows for fun and games and big groups of friends, even with pending marriages and newborn babies. I've recycled three beer bottles by the time the Bike Parade rolls by and Jenny and I feel compelled to bike after them like birds who realize they're late for the migration. It feels great to ride a bike again.
We head to my house to pee, then hurry back into the evening for dinner at Capitol Dawg. It's starting to get cold as the night pushes toward sunset but we sit outside anyway and eat corn-dogs (excuse me, dawgs) with sweet potato fries. It's my first time to the C. Dawg and it's pretty good, though I think I'll try one of their fancy hotdog concoctions next time, and afterward we leave the bikes locked outside and walk back to my house for a quick costume change to accommodate the weather.
En route, we stop by Old Soul to say hello to Nick and Ryan who are working the special event and Joe meets Jenny and we try one of Jason's specially-marinated ribs. We check out the open house at the model condos across the alley and I finally get to see inside and the places are super modern and trendy and nice and if I had three-hundred grand to spare, I'd like to live in the one with the bigger bathroom, but sadly I don't and I don't even really have forty bucks to spend on a neat hat I saw downstairs. I'm in a surprisingly shop-lifty mood but I never follow through with the impulse to pocket anything, worried about bad karma, I guess. We nearly leave the area without our costume change, too buzzed on all the good vibes around us, and when we get to my gate we bump into Jack (who's arrived an hour early for his shift at work), who wants to know if we want to grab a drink before he clocks on. Why not? Jenny and I change outfits for the warmer and then head across the street to MVP to drink a beer each, receive poor service and play a game of pool. Everyone is busy watching the Giants game, so the pool tables are without waiting times. Jenny's on my team and we both play badly, disinterested. Jack wins. He seemed like he could use the ego boost, having moved out of Joe's place (see: evicted) and moved into a place with some crazy people--but at least the rent is cheaper. He gets called into work early and Jenny and I leave for Capitol Dawg and our bikes.
Next we miss meeting Meg at Badlands and decide to take a stroll through the Kennedy Art Studio instead, since this is a night that's supposed to be about the art, after all. Good stuff. Seen some of it before. There's a live band inside and outside. Art with trees, with ceramic ocean-life, with flowers and flamingos and baseballs and painted eggs (going for 700 bucks, I kid you not). We're sober and we've met our art-viewing quota, so it's time to meet Meg at the Mercantile. We bump into her just as she's walking her two drunk friends out of the bar and we all mingle for a minute before they leave and Jenny and I head inside with Meg.
Here I order a greyhound and Jenny goes for her whiskey and ginger-ale standard. It's my last drink of the night since I have to open in the morning, so I sip it slowly as we fight for a seat in the back patio which is full and crowded and noisy and just as we get there the Giants win and everyone cheers. Meg's drunk and talkative and David couldn't make it because of work. Jen and Nick show up just before Meg and Jenny leave to get Meg food and I ask Jen and Nick how their days were and Nick says something about watching a high school football game and Jen worked at Zuda earlier and we small-talk for a while, nearly yelling, craving the slimmest waft of heat from the heat-lamps. When they go get drinks, I'm left alone for a moment and get hit on by some guy who likes my Toms ("Yeah, my girlfriend bought them for me and I really like them, too," I say, deterring him, and it works). Meg and Jenny come back. Some of the other patrons are familiar faces. People catch up. Everyone's in a good mood. It's getting later and later and finally it's probably time for me to go, but Jenny's talked into getting one more drink, so I'm left alone again while they disappear like a magic trick to the bar. This is when I look over and see a girl waving to me from her table and I don't recognize her, not even when she comes and sits next to me and talks about wanting to go to the bonfire and I still can't quite place her until Jenny comes back and apologizes for ditching me and introduces herself to the girl, who says, "I'm Emily," and then it clicks--the new girl from the bead store--and Emily excuses herself, probably, I get the impression, because she didn't know I had a girlfriend. No harm, no foul. The others come back with drinks and Jenny finishes hers soon enough and we leave for her house, on bikes, in the cold, and I get to bed before midnight knowing we'd done and seen a lot and taken advantage of the year's first Second Saturday with decent weather.
- Left to Fry
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