Andy August 2, 2007
So, I came home early and was resting. I figured I would go out into the street and find someone by the bus stop or in the neighborhood. But I was so rested, that I didn't get out until 2.30am when my friend L. called - locked out of her apartment and needing a place to stay. So, I hauled my butt out of bed and drove over to pick her up, sharpie in hand.
And, how incredible is this, just as I pulled up to get her, Andy was walking by. We don't know where Andy was going or coming from at that hour, but that's irrelevant. He was perfectly content to walk up the hill by himself at 2.30 in the morning. And I mean - what was I doing? So, I stopped him.
"Excuse me!" my voice boomed through the dark.
He turned and stared.
"Would you like to write a word on my arm?" No introduction, no "Hi, I'm a writer..." It was 2.30am, people.
"Sure. Hmm..." He took the sharpie from my hand.
"What word shall I write? I know - drink. Like what it says on your T-shirt."
My T-shirt, which is well broken in, says `Drink Cultura'. You know how those T-shirts riffing off of commercial brands were HUGE in the 90s and early 00s. Yup. That's mine (I also used to have one that read "All Temperature Queer" but I got rid of it when it faded); old, worn in and still one of my faves.
So we stood in the half light of the street lamp and Andy wrote "drink" on my arm. I thanked him and he smiled.
"Sure!" and stridently disappeared into the night.
Meanwhile, L. was working on getting her bike into the trunk of the car. Eventually, she did. It all worked out perfectly.
And, how incredible is this, just as I pulled up to get her, Andy was walking by. We don't know where Andy was going or coming from at that hour, but that's irrelevant. He was perfectly content to walk up the hill by himself at 2.30 in the morning. And I mean - what was I doing? So, I stopped him.
"Excuse me!" my voice boomed through the dark.
He turned and stared.
"Would you like to write a word on my arm?" No introduction, no "Hi, I'm a writer..." It was 2.30am, people.
"Sure. Hmm..." He took the sharpie from my hand.
"What word shall I write? I know - drink. Like what it says on your T-shirt."
My T-shirt, which is well broken in, says `Drink Cultura'. You know how those T-shirts riffing off of commercial brands were HUGE in the 90s and early 00s. Yup. That's mine (I also used to have one that read "All Temperature Queer" but I got rid of it when it faded); old, worn in and still one of my faves.
So we stood in the half light of the street lamp and Andy wrote "drink" on my arm. I thanked him and he smiled.
"Sure!" and stridently disappeared into the night.
Meanwhile, L. was working on getting her bike into the trunk of the car. Eventually, she did. It all worked out perfectly.
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