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aboysbestfriendishismum · 7 years

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Chapter 43 - Exes, camp fires and big mouths (Part One)

In the previous chapter:

Meg and Angie are at the diner, at the end of their night shift, together with Grace, who’s sipping a hot chocolate as she’s being given advice on what to do with Stone. Lupus in fabula, Stone and the Mookie guys minus Eddie come to Roxy’s to eat and say their singer has stayed alone at the Potatohead gallery to work on a few songs. Angie secretly pays a quick visit to Eddie, with the pretext of bringing him food and coffee, and he reacts in a weird way. The following day Angie’s dad shows up at the girls’, earlier than expected. Angie proudly shows him her apartment, Ray’s not that enthusiast about it because it’s rather small and in poor condition, but he appreciates the fact his daughter seems to be living a nice and independent life in Seattle. He misses her though. In Angie’s room he finds the little collage board Eddie gave to her as a present, he’s surprised because it has Angie’s polaroids on and she’s always despised having pictures taken. Ray has a photo session with the Seahawks to do and they agree to meet later in the evening at the RKCNDY club together with their friends. Shortly before the beginning of the concert, Jerry’s at the club too, even though he knows Angie’s gonna be there too. Well, that’s the reason he’s there anyway. A guy tries to make small talk with him at the bar, he’s not feeling talkative at the beginning, but he ends up telling him everything about himself and the mess he made with Angie, without actually mentioning her name, spicy details included. As Angie and her friends get to the venue, he finally finds out the terrible truth: the guy he’s been talking to at the bar is his ex girlfriend’s dad.

***

“Oh shit, finally!” Jeff jumps off the hood of Laura’s car as soon as he sees her getting out of her apartment and going down the short flight of stairs “Hurry up, we’re already late”

“Good evening to you too, my love! Listen, where did all that sweetness you brought out the other night for our anniversary go? Did you burn it all at once?” the girl complains as she walks up to Jeff and rather reluctantly pecks him on the lips.

“What? No, no my love, it’s just, well, fifteen minutes ago you said you were coming and…”

“And…?”

“And Eddie and I are here waiting in the cold and ice, you could at least have thrown us the car keys… darling!”

“Eddie’s not complaining” she remarks looking at me and taking the just mentioned keys from her bag, then clinking them right before her boyfriend’s nose, but keeping them tight.

“Actually’s not even been fifteen minutes, much less” I point out and Jeff gives me a nasty look.

“Yeah, sure… he says so because he doesn’t want to offend you”

“Anyway I had to finish getting ready, so what?” Laura opens the car and takes the driver’s seat.

“But baby, you’re already beautiful and amazing, you surely don’t need so much time to get ready, that’s why I was surprised” Jeff’s scene doesn’t convice Laura, who bursts out laughing at his face before closing the car door on her side.

“Come on, baby, stop being an asshole and get up! Weren’t you in a hurry?”

Jeff immediatly does as she commanded and takes the seat on the front, next to Laura, while I sit in the back.

“I speak for Eddie, not for me. He’s the one who can’t wait to get to RKCNDY, right?” Jeff winks at me, but I’ve learned to ignore him.

“I just wanna get there before the show begins” I shrug as Laura starts the car and leaves.

That’s not true for shit, of course. It’s unusual for me, I know, but this time I don’t give an actual fuck about the show. I respect the band and have been told the Inspector guys are good and also funny, that they interact a lot with the audience, and so on. But really, I don’t give a fuck. Basically I’m going because Angie’s there and by now I don’t even waste time inventing excuses to tell myself not to admit I wanna see her. See her, then what? What do I do? What do I tell her? I’m so confused right now and it’s not just my fault, after all she’s got something to do with this mess too, she keeps sending fucking ambiguous signals. I mean, after I tried to ask her out with disastrous results I had basically given up and resigned myself to being turned down, and decided I should stay away from her for a while, also considering that I’ve been following her around since we came back from Canada. Well, resigned is a big word, say I was trying to focus on music and erase all the waves, scents, oceans with her name, looks, mermaids and any other thing that could remind me of her from my writing. And right when I was actually managing to do that, what did Angie do? She appeared in front of me, out of nowhere, with her smile, her raspy and charming voice, her inquiring eyes on me, so sweetly sharp at times that I almost feel naked and have the impression that she, I don’t know, likes me? But then I hugged her and she didn’t turn a hair, while I was getting drunk with her scent, which is both different every time and always the same. I was holding her and I swear my knees were shaking because I felt overwhelmed by all that peace and warmth and it was like I couldn’t fully embrace her, like I wasn’t able to hold and keep in my arms all that she could give me, like it was too much all at once. And I thought that if I had told her something like that she would have thought I was crazy, or high, or both, or she would have used her usual fucking self deprecation saying something about being too big to be hugged or shit like that, but I’d have shut her up with a greedy and euphoric kiss. And she’d have reacted with one of her infamous slaps full on my face or she’d have clinged to me and reciprocated the kiss twice as intensely and we’d have ended up rolling on that poor excuse for a couch at the gallery without really understanding how we got there. Or maybe she’d have kept it cool and then given me a side look and, with her diagonal smile, she’d have argued that shutting a woman’s mouth with a kiss is the most sexist and stereotypical thing a man’s mind can come up with and at that point I’d have definitely waved white flag and given in, and declaring myself officially hers I’d have got completely naked on the spot and told her she could do anything she wanted to me. None of that happened though and the mere fact I’m daydreaming about this and all the possible scenarios, as ridiculous as plausible, is enough for me to realise I’m not losing my mind for Angie, nah, I already lost it and there’s nothing I can do about it.

We’ve already got to the club and I didn’t really notice, I must have been no great company during the car ride, but Jeff and Laura don’t seem to mind. The line outside is basically non existing and it takes us five minutes to get in. Inside the club our eyes are busy scanning the people around looking for our friends and our ears are busy listening to the end of a song by Primus. Laura walks away almost immediately to say hi to a couple of girls who are calling her and takes Jeff with her, whereas I gesture something along the line of see ya later and walk around the room, hoping to find what I’m looking for. And it doesn’t take long because as the song ends, as if it was a previously arranged scene, among the many unknown faces, there I spot it, the only one I’m really interested in: Angie, down on the left, standing beside a column, chatting and laughing with Meg, dressed in black, a tracksuit I guess, different make up on her eyes, black with something reddish, or purple, I can’t say it, her hand brushing a lock of hair away from her face and then indulging a little more in drowning the fingertips into the soft mane. Actually, I don’t know if she’s actually indulging in the movement or it’s just me seeing everything at half speed like in a boring romantic scene of a b movie about teenagers, when the main male character sees the girl of his dreams and goes in raptures and right then the ultimate love song starts like, I don’t know, True by Spandau Ballet, and she shakes her head and her hair move in slow motion and a single spotlight is on her and the rest of the world stops being important or maybe, as far as he knows, even stops existing. The problem is the scene goes on exactly like that, except for the song, which in my case it’s the cover version of Love me made by The Cramps and if possible it’s even more appropriate. Surely, Lux’s screams are more suited to my mood. Now Meg’s talking, while Angie listens and nods and has an interested expression on her face, then she looks in disbelief, then confused and then I lose count of the whole spectrum of emotions I see passing on that face, which must be relaxed and comfortable and doesn’t feel the need to hide anything from her friend, so it shows itself for what it is, naturally expressive. I like her like this, with no apparent protection shield, no masks, no filters. I wish she was like this with me too, and maybe she really is sometimes. No, the truth is I wish she was like this with me only, that’s a completely different thing. The former eventuality is discarded, it’s literally shattered in a few seconds thanks to a quick gesture by… by whom? Who the fuck is that? A guy with long hair and moustache who must be as old as Angie and Meg put together, he comes out from behind the column with two glasses in his hands, creeps behind the girls’s shoulders scaring them as a joke. Angela yells at him and laughs and takes one of the glasses from the stranger, who puts his arm around her shoulders and kisses her temple, just like that, as if it was nothing, as she lets him. SHE LETS HIM DO IT AND SMILES. Meg says something to them then walks away, leaving them alone. Are you kidding me? Slow motion and Tony Hadley’s voice stopped, now speed is back to normal, no, things just sped up considering I’m basically running towards Angie and the old pig. Has he just met her? Does he already know her? Maybe it’s one of her professors. I don’t have time to make other assumptions, I’m already a few feet from them, Angie sees me and as we make eye contact she calls my name and gestures for me to get closer, I smile and for a moment I forget what my previous intentions were. The face of the asshole who quickly turns around to acknowledge me soon takes me back to reality.

“You know, the first time I saw them they were opening for The Police, I’m talking about the Outlandos d'amour tour, so 1977 or ‘78. If I do remember right, I guess they were the first Cramps concerts ever, at least the first ones outside the US” I heard him say when I’m closer.

“Lucky you!”

“Oh well, they’re still around, you know? You can see them whenever you want”

“Yeah, but you saw them in the early days!” Angie says with admiration in her voice.

“Well, it’s easier when you’re elderly. Hi Angie!” I chime in like that, brutally and with no introduction whatsoever.

“Eddie!” she exclaims and looks at me as if I had just yelled some blasphemy in a church.

“Hehe that’s true, your friend’s right, being born in the 40s is the best thing ever happened to me, especially for my job. Anyway, as someone said, it’s all relative, each and every generation has its own hymns and myths: maybe the Zeppelin or the Sabbath of the future are performing in clubs like this one right now” the guy doesn’t bat an eyelid and goes on playing the part of the cool phylosophycal guy. For his job? Does he work in the music world? Or is it just what he tells girls to take them to bed?

“Can I have a sip? My mouth is super dry” I ask Angie and literally tear the glass away from her hand before getting an answer.

“Ok… but it’s just plain coke, nothing else” she explains even more perplexed.

“I really hope so,” I grumble to myself, but loud enough for the other two to hear, as I take the glass to my lips and smell the content in the meantime, before drinking some “you never know”

“Wow, I had no idea you had such scrupulous friends! They even check if you’re drinking alcohol” the moustache giggles and sips his beer.

“We always check anything, and anyone” I add as I drink some more coke. Seems ok.

“Since when?” Angie gives suspicious looks alternatively to me and the old man.

“By the way, we haven’t been introduced yet, I’m-” the guy takes the beer with his left hand and holds out his right one for me to shake and I can’t refuse.

“You’re someone who’s probably twice as old as her” I end his sentence with a broad smile on my face, as I vigorously shake his hand.

“EDDIE, WHAT THE FUCK?!” Angie’s face turns crimson all of a sudden and well, yeah, I know, I know she can defend herself and doesn’t particularly like this whole big brother attitude from Stone and Jeff, but I can’t just stand here not doing anything while this dirty jerk’s hitting on her.

“Well, actually more than twice, I told you I was born in the 40s, didn’t I? Maths is still indisputable, isn’t it?” I mean, the guy has the temper to joke? He has guts, I must admit it.

“I can count, you know, unlike someone who doesn’t understand he’s a little too old for an 18 year old girl” I drink some more coke, actually the glass is half empty when I give it back to Angie, who takes it without even looking at me. Is she embarrassed? Or mad? Well in that case she’s overreacting honestly.

“Oh god, well, too old, uhm, I wouldn’t say I’m too old. I think I’m the right age, I’ve always wanted a family, but not too soon”

“So you want to settle down with a young girl and have a family now that you’re aged?”

“Eddie, stop it, don’t you understand he’s-” Angie shakes her head and nervously laughs, but she’s interrupted by the guy.

“No, Angie, I think he doesn’t understand. I think I’m the right age, neither too young nor too old. A healthy age gap is very important, Eddie. If you’re young, girls won’t take you seriously and consider you just like one of their friends, whereas if you’re too old they’ll take advantage of you and have you pamper them, and most of all they’ll fool you right under your nose. You need balance” the man with moustache goes on, without hesitation. By the way, now that I look at him, he reminds me of someone… but who?

“This. This is… the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard in my life!” I retort folding my arms, probably as to prevent myself from punching him.

“Because you’re not a father yet, when and if you become a dad you’ll understand what it means, especially if you have daughters” he says and places one hand on my shoulder.

“What do you mean? It’s got nothing to do with-”

“It has because this is my dad, Eddie, MY DAD”

“Your… huh?” suddenly my hands are not itching to choke the life out of that man anymore, I’m suddenly hit by another wish: the desire to be immediately swallowed into the bowels of the earth and never come back.

“Ray Pacifico, nice to meet you!” the guy… well, ehm, Angie’s father holds out his hand towards me again and I give him mine, limp, as I watch him dazed.

“Mr… uhm, Mr Pacifico, I… I’m so sorry, I had no idea you-”

“Please, call me Ray, or you’re gonna make me feel old for real” Ray winks at me and I nod without saying one word, without even breathing I think, knowing that one minute ago I basically told the father of the girl I have a crush on that he was an old molester hitting on young girls.

“Nice to meet you Ray, I’m Jeff, a friend of Angie’s, one of the normal ones though” the bassist appears behind my back. How long has he been there?

“Hehe come on, poor Eddie, how could he know?” Ray tries to excuse me and I know deep inside he’s thinking I’m a loser.

“How could he? Angie wouldn’t stop talking about you and the fact you were coming to Seattle! Everybody knows, I think even the mayor knows” Laura jokes and Angie sticks her tongue out at her.

“Yeah, actually… well, yeah, I knew that, it’s just… I temporarily forgot it” I’m clutching at straws but in the end it’s just the simple truth: I knew Angie’s dad would have been her tonight, I just didn’t make the connection the moment I saw him with her.

“Say the protective instinct prevailed over reason. We’re used at being watchdogs, you know, with all the dirty people around and shit” Jeff gives me a heavy double pat on the back and as I yelp I forget my will for oblivion for a moment.

“Oh so you’re regularly being hit on by old men?” an amused Ray asks his daughter.

“Jeff meant in general” she sulks.

“Now I see why they were all so enthusiast about your volunteer job at the retirement home!”

“Ha-ha” Angie looks down embarrassed, then looks up again and her eyes are on me, eyes of pity.

“Sorry” I mouth to her, while Jeff and Ray keep not so subtly making fun of both Angie and I.

She shakes her head and half smiles, the usual small tooth briefly peeking out from the corner of her mouth then immediately disappearing behind her timid and soft to devour lips and that’s exactly where I’d run to hide right now, or simply to rest, if only I could.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

“And right then I found out she was Meg’s new roommate” Chris cockily ends his story, the one I know by heart, the poor figure I could tell even if I hadn’t experience it first hand when I got to my new apartment.

“Hehe so you two are my daughter’s neighbors” my dad points at Cornell and Gossard and he does it so nonchalantly I’d almost swear he didn’t do it on purpose.

“No, he lives with Matt,” Stone explains pointing at the drummer “I live by myself”

“He’s still at home with his parents” Jeff remarks with a fake smile.

“I’m not with my parents, I have my own apartment”

“Which is also your parent’s attic”

“It’s an attic, but it’s a detached apartment”

“And your parents downstairs”

“But they’re two separated and independent apartments, Jeff, just stop it”

“Which happen to become a little less separated at lunch and dinner time”

“SEPARATED AND INDEPENDENT!”

My father enjoys the Stone and Jeff show, we’re maybe so used to that we don’t even notice. For a moment I try to detatch myself from the situation and observe it from the outside and I realise the guys are doing their best, or worst, it depends on how you look at it. I mean, Chris delighting us with slices of his life, Jeff and Stone picking on each other, sweet Mikey playing dumb and make the usual couple of ambiguous remarks about Meg, Kim who says a couple of words and ends up monopolizing the conversation, Eddie not opening his mouth, Dave drinking beer like there’s no tomorrow: each one of them is, or looks like, his own stereotype, everyone reproduces the topoi and the style elements that belong to them, just like the characters of a sitcom do in the first episode, to introduce themselves to the audience, to give the watchers the whole picture. In this case, my father can’t really complain, they’re all doing their best to give him an overall view of our existence.

“Oh well, personally I don’t even take such things into account, I’ve met school kids who’re still with their parents but already are perfectly self-reliant and grown up adults who live by themselves but have their moms or girlfriends come and clean their house, so I don’t really think it’s a matter of the physical place you live in, rather than the mental place you reach as you grow”

“Jeff has Eddie now, he doesn’t need his mom” Stone remarks after finishing his beer.

“What does it mean? That you’re good at doing the chores?” dad asks Eddie, figuring out it must be some kind of recurring joke.

“Err… well, yeah, I try… I mean… been living on my own for ten years” Eddie stutters something without even looking at Ray’s face and that doesn’t surprise me, considering the poor figure he made earlier. How the hell did he forget? How didn’t he understand it was my father? Everybody says we look alike, despite everything…

“Great! My girl here is a model of independence too, Janis and I tried hard to pamper her, but we failed miserably, didn’t we Angelina?” dad circles my shoulders with his arm and my blood istantly turns into ice.

“Aaaaaaw, Angelina, what a sweet nickname!” Laura cheers with her heart-shaped eyes, playing the part of her lovely self perfectly too. Too bad she’s the unknowing cause of a disaster.

“Oh but that’s not a-” dad starts answering and I even try to stop him.

“That’s not sweet, it’s just ugly, let’s just go with Angie, ok?” but it’s pointless.

“It’s her name by the way, not a nickname” and there blows the first bomb dropped by my father.

“Excuse me?” Stone and his arched eyebrow are the first to react and I had no doubt about it.

“Angelina, that’s her name”

“ANGELINA?!” Jeff, as loyal as the others to his character, yells and chokes on the peanuts he was crunching on at the bar.

“Angelina like 'Angelina… waitress at the pizzeria’?” Chris chuckles.

“I thought your name was Angela, Angie for friends” Mike is the most calm of them all, together with Eddie, who just sports a smile that’s half incredulous and sorry.

“Your such idiot! Don’t you understand he’s just kidding? He’s just making fun of her, aren’t you Ray?” Meg shakes her head and addresses my father, who’s about to disappoint her.

“No no, I’m not kidding! It’s her name, I know that because, well, I gave it to her” dad shrugs and I don’t need to look at Meg to know she’s drilling a hole into my skull with a homicidal look.

“WHAT?”

“Meg…”

“Six months. No, more… We’ve known each other for more than six months and you never told me your name?!”

“As you can imagine, it ain’t something I easily tell people, for obvious reasons”

“What do you mean? Angelina is a beautiful name, it’s my mother’s name, that is your grandma's” my dad looks at me pretending to be offended, but I can’t help feeling a little guilty, even though I know he’s just faking.

“Yeah, it’s a nice name, it’s just… a little old fashioned”

“That’s just better, it’s more rare, so more unique”

“And a little… you know, sounds very Italian”

“So what?” dad’s jaw contracts and he strikes me with his typical narrow and fake happy look he gives when he’s irritated.

“So… nothing, it’s very typical and-”

“What’s wrong with it being Italian? I’m Italian, you’re Italian, our family is half Italian, is there something wrong with that?”

“No! Not at a-”

“Do you have something against Italian people?” dad addresses the whole gang and they’re smart enough to understand the quickest is the answer the better.

“No!”

“For fuck’s sake, no!”

“Come on!”

“Not at all!”

It’s all a big chorus of denial, then Mike follows trying to deliver a more articulated speech, based on the premise that working at a pizzeria puts him surely on top of the chart of those in our group who love Italy.

“I can’t see why you’re suddenly ashamed of your origins…”

“I’m not! It’s just a kinda old fashioned name, an old lady name, regardless the geographical origin of the old lady”

“We’re not given names when we’re old though, Angie, old ladies called Angelina, like your grandma, were children too and quietly and happily lived with that name without complaining” daddy explains picking up a potato chip from another bowl on the bar counter and taking it close to my lips, not backing up until I give up and open my mouth to eat it.

“I’d happily live with it too, if only you didn’t tell everybody”

“Heheh oh shut up, come on, nothing changes for you, your friends will keep calling you Angie”

“Are you joking? Stone’ll be calling me Angelina for the rest of my life”

“You mean, for the rest of his life…” dad answers a second before Stone opens his mouth. The guitarist must be so irritated.

“Hahahaha that was funny!” Jeff high fives Ray, who obviously took only a few minutes to become my friends’ new best friend. Unlike me.

“Anyway, I thought you used other kinds of pet names for each other” he adds with one of his fucking winks.

“Shut up, dad! Well, now that you’re here you can hear it directly from him that he’s not my boyfriend, so you’ll just stop once and for all. Tell him Stone”

Gossard looks at me dumbfounded, than looks at my father, takes a deep breath and…

“Well, so… ok… wow… I mean, you could have come up with a more discreet way to break up with me, Angelina, don’t you think?” the dork replies.

“Stone” everybody laughs, dad included.

“And also, a better moment maybe?” he continues between fits of laughter.

“Fuck you, Stone” despite all this I think my dad finally realised that nothing’s going on between that idiot who’s holding his belly as he’s almost suffocating from laughter and I.

“I think it’s cute” on the end of a little laugh, Eddie says I think the first complete sentence since my dad shook his hand. This said, I have no clue what he wants to say.

“What?” Dave gives voice to my inner question.

“Angelina, it’s a cute name”

“What do you mean cute?! It’s a riot girl name” I sarcastically retort, raising my fist in the air.

“It’s a total babe’s name”

“Yeah sure…”

“Why? Can’t it be? A name is just a name, it becomes a badass name or a loser name depending on who has it”

“Exactly, consider that I have it”

“And culture and trends play a role too. A famous personality called in a certain way can change the perspective on any name” my roommate goes on ignoring my comment.

“Well, it depends”

“What about Banana? Stupid name in theory, I mean, it’s not even a name. But Yoshimoto turned it into a name, a badass name I add”

“Ok, but that’s not her actual name, it’s a pen name she chose because she thought it was easier to prononuce than her Japanese name, also because the words basically the same in every language. And she didn’t want readers to immediately understand if the writer was a man or a woman” I retort as I notice everybody’s listening to our dialogue in sacred silence.

“Fine. What about Dustin? Do you think Dustin is a hot name if you separate it from Hoffman’s image?”

“Well, it’s not bad per se”

“What about Wynona then? And Bo? Elton? Cool names from the beginning, right…”

“I’m pretty sure at least two of them are stage names, Meg”

“Well, fuck that, it’s the principle!”

“Meg’s right. You just have to wait until an actress or a model or any super hot girl called Angelina gets into the spotlight and grabs the public’s attention and you’ll immediately gain a few points” Chris chimes in, nodding at his own words.

“Pff very likely to happen”

“That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but…” Meg murmurs.

“And this is when I was supposed to say something like 'But no, why? Why should we wait for another? We already got you and you’re amazing blah blah’ but considering that you broke up with me five minutes ago…” Gossard shrugs and even my father can’t help laughing for his fucking sense of humor. Why doesn’t he take Stone as a boyfriend?

“And this is the first benefit I get from breaking up with you”

Luckily I stop being the subject of the conversation and at some point our group splits up and spreads all around the club: Susan arrives and she and Chris go away somewhere, Jeff goes backstage with Stone and Kim, my father wanders about taking pictures, Dave and Matt are deep into drummers conversation, but I don’t really know if it’s about drumming or not because I’m kinda far from them, still at the bar, with Laura, Eddie, Mike and Meg.

“Anyway, I agree with you about your name theory. For example, the name Meg didn’t mean anything before, but after I met you… bam, Meg is beauty par excellence” Mike comes up with this from out of nowhere, as we were talking about something else, leaving my friend quite perplexed, and not just her. And maybe that’s the reason why Laura walks away after a while, saying that she wanted to search for her boyfriend. At this point it’s just Eddie and I third wheeling.

“Hey, the concert’s about to start soon, why don’t we… start to… go that way, to see it?” I talk to Eddie and point towards the stage, he immediately accepts and follows me as I walk in that direction, and I don’t know if Mike notices we left, Meg surely does because she gives me a scolding look. The situation’s weird, but I know Meg and even though she’s trying to play it cool, she clearly doesn’t mind this kind of attention from him, I think she even likes it. But Melanie? Where’s she in this? I only hope nobody gets hurt, especially Meg of course because, well, she’s a friend of mine.

“Do you understand what’s going on between those two?” I ask Eddie when we’re far enough.

“Who? Mike and Meg? Honestly I have no clue” he answers, apparently surprised by the question.

“Neither do I”

“I only hope nobody gets hurt, not too much at least, you know” he goes on and it’s the very same thought I had a few moments ago and these pseudo-mindreading coincidences always make me smile.

“Yep” I rummage in my new bag looking for a kleenex since, guess what, I’ve got another cold. It must be the tenth cold since I moved here.

“Nice bag” Eddie points at my little camera-shaped bag.

“Hehe Ray discovered Pike Place Market today and bought it for me, as you can see my family’s quite monothematic”

“By the way, I’m sorry for what happened before, I’m such an idiot…” Eddie moves a rebel strand of hair away from his forehead and I honestly would have left that right there because it was just perfect in its being out of place.

“You don’t have to apologise to me, maybe with my dad, but you already did I think. And he took five seconds to forgive you anyway, so don’t worry”

“Ok, but I made you uncomfortable in front of him…”

“No problem, you weren’t the only one tonight anyway”

“Hehe do you think he realised Stone’s not your boyfriend?” he snickers and I’m not sure wether I should let him believe I was referring to Stone or tell him about Jerry befriending my father. I go with the first option, also because I don’t even wanna think about that jerk.

“I think he knows now. And Stone knows he knows. But they both love torturing me so much they won’t stop any soon”

“Well, I apologise all the same”

“I accept your apologies”

“And I apologise for last night too, sorry if I was… weird”

“I had already accepted those apologies last night”

“Yes, but when I apologised I was still in the middle of being weird to you, so that didn’t actually count, at least didn’t count 100%”

“You were weird? 'Cause now you think you’re normal?” I add sarcastically.

“Mmm nah, but a little more normal than last night”

“Ok ok, I accept these apologies too. Even though, it was me who invaded your privacy in the end and I think that any of us is free to be as weird as we fucking want when we’re by ourselves. And not just when we’re alone after all”

“You didn’t invade my privacy”

“Technically, I did”

“Well, maybe you did, but you can do it. I like it when you do. Do it more often”

“Haha something tells me the cake was good”

“The cake. Sure. It was delicious, thank you. And the coffee too”

“I only made the coffee so I can take credit just for that”

“No, not only for that… Anyway, you can also stay a little longer next time”

“I had to go back to work”

“I know, that’s why I said next time”

“Uhm ok”

“You never come over when we’re rehearsing”

“That’s not true, I do, from time to time”

“Apart from last night, I only saw you once since I know you”

“It’s just… I don’t know… it’s fun and everything, but in the end you’re there to work, it’s serious… I feel like I’d disturb or bother you”

“Are you kidding? That rehearsing space is like a motel, people are always coming and going”

“Ok, I’ll come over one of these days”

“I count on that”

“That’s if I find the time to prepare at least one cake or Mikey won’t let me in”

“Come on, just come see us… I swear I won’t do crazy things. And no weird hugs! Well, ehm, unless you don’t want them. I mean, normal hugs of course, 'cause I don’t think you… but also weird ones are ok if you… I mean, I don’t even know what I’m talking about. By the way, you know we’ve got new songs? If you came to see us, you could listen to them before anyone else…” why is he talking fast and nonsense like me when I’m embarrassed? Wait… why is he embarrassed?

“Oh well, in that case I can’t refuse, I must come to the gallery!”

“Ok, great. That’s if… if you’re not tired of seeing me”

“What? Why? What do you mean?”

“No, it’s just, you said it the other day… that we’ve been bumping into each other a lot lately”

“Ah! Well, yeah, it’s true, but I just said it like that”

“And I want to tell you again that there’s nothing behind that, I mean, it’s just happening by chance. Yet I, ehm, I like hanging out with you”

Oh oh, I know what’s happening and I know why Eddie’s strange: the poor guy’s looking for the best way to tell me he enjoys his time with me as a friend, a friend only. As if I needed him to tell me! What’s left to understand is if he’s somehow sensed something about my recent little fixation on him if it’s just a preventive move to avoid deluding me.

“I know, Eddie, don’t worry, I understand”

“I really like it”

“Look, I get what you’re trying to tell me, Eddie”

“Really?” he asks, suddenly looking taken aback.

“I feel comfortable with you too, also talking to you is nice”

“It’s not just a matter of feeling comfortable, Angie, I-”

Eddie’s clumsy attempt at telling me that yes, he really cares for me, so I’d better avoid ruining everything by letting strange ideas into my mind is interrupted by a choir of yells and wistles, which announces the band has just got on stage. That’s what I guess at least, because I can’t see shit as usual. The show starts a few seconds later, with a really funky song, who makes us move our heads and other things right from the start. I try and figure out the stage in my mind by putting together the small portions I spot between the heads, shoulders and arms of those who’re standing in front of me and when I turn towards Eddie I see him swaying around in rhythm. I don’t know why but this reminds me of his terrible dance moves at Crowe’s place on New Year’s Eve, I’ve never seen anyone move so ungracefully in my whole life. I start laughing the exact moment Eddie turns around and looks at me and gives me a broad smile and a thumbs up. Well, at least is in rhythm now, and he’s good at moving his hair around… and his hair is wonderful, so shiny and soft… FUCK SAKE, ANGIE, STOP IT!

I shift from left to right, from one foot to the other, trying to understand what the fuck’s happening on stage, and I spot a familiar figure: what I think is my dad, on the side of the stage, taking pictures. If I know him well, he must be at his second roll of film by now.

“Wanna go a little forward?” Eddie asks into my ear at the beginning of the third song. I bet he’s suffering here in the back, we’re honestly pretty far.

“I don’t really feel like going to the front, but you can go!” I shout back and as I do, getting close to his ear, his curls brush my cheek and it doesn’t help at all for my situation. Why the fuck must everything be so amplified? Do I really have to notice every little thing? And does every little thing necessarily have to affect me this way?

“I won’t take you to the front, just a little closer to the center”

“I don’t know…”

“Here, follow me.” he delicately takes my arm, that remains limp and falls back down as soon as he lets it go “Come on…” he holds my hand, smiles and here they are, those fucking dimples. He points at them himself after a while and if I had any doubts about him doing it on purpose well now I don’t anymore.

“I hate you”

“I don’t believe you” Eddie tries to drag me forward and this time I follow him, not without any difficulties, because I get pushed around each second and our joined hands are pulled apart by people jumping or moshing. After we lose touch because of the umpteenth group of guys running like crazy towards the middle of the room, Eddie stops and walks back to me, but it doesn’t take my hand this time.

“I think it’s better this way” Eddie is behind my back, he takes me by the wrists and folds my arms across my chest, doing the same with his over mine. He basically embraces me, creating some sort of protecting shield around me, and starts walking with me, making his way through the crowd. Moving now actually turns out to be easier and faster and less shaky. The fact it also feels nice to be held tight by such strong arms is obviously secondary.

“Is it ok here?” he asks once we get to a pretty quiet zone, on the left looking at the stage, from which I can even see something without standing on tiptoes or straining my neck.

“Yes, it’s perfect.” I reply turning my head to one side, but without turning to look at him completely, also and most of all because I don’t want him to see how much I’m blushing right now “Doesn’t this count as weird hug?” I add as a joke to relieve tension, mine of course.

“Oops, sorry!” Eddie lets me go and I almost feel like falling, as if I suddenly forgot how to stand on my feet.

“It was a functional weird hug”

“Yes and it worked”

“Exactly” I go on, every time turning just a little bit towards Eddie but without really seeing him or letting him see me.

The set goes on and Eddie’s behind my back the whole time, resting his hands on my shoulders from time to time. And for me prana, ki, meridians and chakra were, are and always will be nothing but a bit pile of shit, but the heat Eddie’s hands radiate is real, it goes through my spine, travels down across my legs down to my feet, then goes back up to my head, giving me really annoying goosebumps. Apart from that, my dad even managed to spot us in the crows and take a couple of pictures, all with a smart-ass smile on his face. Did Eddie notice?

“Anyway, I really like being with you” he says during a break between songs.

“At concerts for sure, I don’t block your view”

“Haha shut up!” he says grabbing my shoulders once again.

“And I’m comfortable to lean on when you’re tired” this time I turn around a little more, making eye contact with him, and at the same time pat him on his hand, which he immediately takes away.

“I’m sorry… see, I’ve been really all over you recently… I mean, literally”

“I can also be a small ladder when needed”

“Anyway… what I wanted to say before is that I’m not just at ease with you”

Ok, now comes the moment he tells me I’m such a good friend, that he’s comfortable talking to me, because I can listen and it comes natural to him to open up, that he feels better after we talk, that he feels understood and not judged, etc.

“Mm mh?”

“With you I…” Eddie stops because the band starts playing again, but then goes on, speaking at a little louder volume. Do we need to discuss this right now? Sure, he probably thinks it’s better to talk about something like this with the diversion of the concert, as if it was just chit chat between friends at a show, rather than sitting around the table and talk about the matter like it was some big deal. “ With you, I feel like home. And it’s not something to take for granted, because I’ve never felt completely at home, not even at my place. I don’t know if you understand…”

“Yes! More or less…” I go back to my previous pattern, quick answers and turning my head just a little, keeping my eyes on the stage.

“It’s like with certain songs, I don’t know if it’s like this for you too. Those songs you turn to whenever you need to feel safe, cuddled, soothed, backed up, understood. Like, I don’t know, Bruce Springsteen”

“So… I’m Bruce Springsteen?” I ask after being silent for while, not because he shocked me, but mostly because I liked the idea of putting a dramatic pause right there, I think it sounded good.

“Hahaha in a certain sense, yeah. I don’t know if it works the same for you with music”

“Yeah, but not with his music”

“You don’t like Bruce Springsteen?” Eddie grabs me from the shoulders more tightly than he did before and turns me around 180 degrees until I’m facing his inquisitive eyes.

“Sure I like him, of course I do, he’s the Boss, but…”

“But?”

“But I think I can’t appreciate him fully yet, I think it’s too soon”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a long talk and it’s also not easy to do it in the middle of a concert” I half yell, still with my back at the stage.

“I have a good hearing”

“Ok, well… I believe there are artists you can’t fully comprehend if you don’t have enough experience, if you haven’t lived enough”

“So I appreciate him 'cause I’m old?”

“Hahaha no! Well, yeah, but not exactly. It’s multilevel”

“It’s… what?”

“Oh let me think about it… it’s like… it’s like The Simpson’s”

“The Simpson’s?”

“The animated series on Fox”

“I know what The Simpson’s are, but… what’s the point?”

“The point is it’s great, a masterpiece, one of the few good things worth watching on tv. And literally anyone can watch an episode and appreciate it because it’s multilevel”

“That is…?”

“That is it has more levels of understanding. There’s the main story, then humor, then different parallel comedy stints and a list of quotes and references, more or less famous, more or less hidden. A few weeks ago I saw this episode where Mr Burns was running for governor and there was this scene which basically was identical to the speech scene in Citizen Kane, and of course you must have seen the movie to get the reference and if you get the reference the suggestion works. But what if I hadn’t seen that movie? Would that have prevented me from understanding the scene on the whole? Not at all, I’d have understand what was literally happening, I’d have got the literal meaning, but I’d have missed so much, I wouldn’t have enjoyed all of it. And that’s how it is for me with Springsteen, I feel I’m missing something, that there’s some emotional reference I can’t get yet and that prevents me from appreciating him completely. It’s the same with Bob Dylan, I lack some levels”

“YOU DON’T LIKE DYLAN?!” Eddie’s literally screaming now.

“Dylan is huge, but I think I’ll appreciate him more in a few years. And between you and me, I can’t wait” I state right when the song ends, then I turn around towards the stage and clap and cheer at the band.

“What you say is right, but isn’t that the case with any artist and any work of art?”

“Yeah, but it’s stronger for some. Some artists just bring the baggage of a whole iconography with them, they always carry that burden on their shoulders, and Springsteen and Dylan aren’t just themselves: they’re themselves plus what they represent, they’re lifestyles, they’re whole lives, and it takes time to take a life and make it completely yours”

“See, it’s things like this too. This kind of conversation. The fact we talk about these things, it’s just… I love all this”

“Screamed conversations throughout concerts?”

“Yeah. And tell me one band or artist that’s home to you” Eddie insists, still talking into my ear behind my back.

“The Cure. And The Smiths” I answer without hesitation.

“I’m pretty sure Robert Smith and Morrisey can’t stand each other”

“Nobody can’t stand Morrissey. Even Morrissey can’t stand Morrissey”

“And you don’t need more life experience to understand them, right?”

“Nah, their music floats around in the limbo of pure eternal teenage, it’s the beginning of life. No, it’s the wait, the wait for your life life, waiting for it to finally start, for real”

“Ok… so The Cure and The Smiths”

“If you add Patti Smith you’ve just verbalized my personal Holy Trinity”

“Robert Smith, Patti Smith, The Smiths… there’s a whole lot of Smith in your triad”

“If I ever hit my head, go into a coma, wake up and decide I want a child, I’ll call him Smith or Smitty”

“Or you should just get married with someone whose surname is Smith”

“Yeah, that’s just what I need, more selection criteria to make things more difficult for me in social interaction and life”

“I like you, Angie”

“I like you too” I distractedly answer, trying to understand what the singer from Inspector said that was so funny to make the crowd suddenly laugh.

“YOU ARE MY CURE” Eddie unexpectedly yells into my year as soon as the band starts to play again. I roll my eyes. You just need to find yourself a girlfriend.

“Nah, you should see a therapist for that, a good one”

The show ends soon after that and one by one we get together again around a table, in a kind of isolated corner of the club.

“Not bad, I had fun” dad states as he comes back from the bar, unsteadily balancing a number of beers between his hands, I can’t count from here, maybe three or four.

“How many rolls of film have you used?” I ask, folding my arms on the table.

“Just a couple, I didn’t want to exaggerate. Anyway, did you see the bass player?”

“Ehm yeah, I think I saw him a couple of times behind the sea of heads in front of me, why?”

“Don’t you think he sort of looked like Sean?”

“Sean?” Thayil asks brushing his beard, after drinking some of the beer my dad handed to him before.

“One of her friends in Boise, he’s in Florida now”

“Who? Your ex?” Jeff asks and he’s sitting right in front of me and his long legs allow me to kick him easily under the table. He then tries to make up for that “Your ex friend?”

“Ex friend? Did you fight?” dad promptly asks as he immediately smells bullshit. Not that it was hard to notice…

“No, not at all”

“So why ex… friend?” I hate his fucking dramatic pauses.

“I meant that he’s a friend of hers, an old one, from her old town, her old life. We’re the new friend, the ones in office…”

“Mmm ok” Ray nods after a while, pretending to believe him. Of course, I’ve never told my parents anything about the mini break in which Sean and I briefly crossed the line of plain friendship, although they’ve always joked about that, as if they always knew. And if there still was a little doubt, Jeff dispelled it with a single move.

“Forgive him, Ray. You must understand he comes from Montana, he express himself in an rudimental way”

“Fuck you, Stone”

“On the other hand, you don’t look like someone who’s got problems in expressing himself through words, right Stone?”

“Oh no, he expresses himself very good, even too good” Cornell laughs.

“Say he expresses himself too much, period” Ament points out and the guitarists flips him the bird.

“I bet you write the lyrics” my dad tries to guess.

“No, he expresses himself enough in everyday life”

“Eddie writes the lyrics” I reply, blocking the umpteenth beginning of quarrel between Jeff and Stone.

“Someone who doesn’t express himself in everyday life as much as he should” Stone remarks, elbowing the singer.

“Mmm I don’t think so, from what I saw he can express his feelings very well when needed, can’t you Eddie?” Ray pats Vedder on the shoulder a couple of times and he just nods shyly.

“Hey, wait a minute. Did you realise that Stone, who basically never keeps his mouth shut, is the one who writes the music, while Eddie, who’s quieter, writes… the words?” Mike shushes us quickly to communicate his incredible discovery to us.

“Really?! You don’t say? That’s unbelievable, that’s probably why we said the same fucking shit just one minute ago!” Jeff remarks amused.

“Oh really?” Mike seems confused, but not as confused as he is after being poured a whole glass of what looks and smells like gin lemon over his head by the angry girl standing right behind his back.

#pearl jam fanfiction #grunge fanfiction #pearl jam #eddie vedder #jeff ament #stone gossard #chris cornell #kim thayil #mike mccready #dave krusen #matt cameron #chapters

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autoirishlitdiscourses · 7 years

Text

Discourse of Saturday, 22 April 2017

I think that your plans by 10 p. The bad news is that the probability that she's not in front of the first three stanzas Patrick Kavanagh's On Raglan Road Patrick Kavanagh, On Raglan Road: Personally, I think that one part or another vision of female sexuality like in the margins, that you must email me your plans by tomorrow, but our wonderful new email server that the overall goal is to make sure to do to get you a five-minute warning by holding up the appropriate number of presentations. We mustn't be led away by words, by the time limit has come up repeatedly, and I'll post a link to the small late plan email penalty ½%, but that a potentially productive paper topic would be doing in the reader/viewer about whom you're talking more quickly, so you have been thinking too much of an assignment that you use Standard English for most students to review that document anyway, especially if the section website that illustrates correct formatting according to the course of the Absurd, or you can keep notes on areas in which you pull very small errors. Students who read actively and who take a look at your main argument. Of course, as a. Ultimately, what you say yes, participation, paper, however.

This is not horribly complicated at the third line of your paper, is that it might be worth digging in to the Irish Republic issued by the screaming, irrational, hysterical, constantly reproducing women in the best way to provide genuine illumination of both the broader issues of phrasing and sentence structure obscures your point or points to which I've posted, I guess, that your research and have a good student, and you had a B, regardless of race were like, and if that works better for those. Try thinking about what your most important of which is also perfectly OK. Even their local happiness seems tuned to a bachelor's thesis or a car accident causing head trauma on your midterm, and I'll accommodate you if you have 86. All of these but not past your level of competence by any means the only reason I haven't.

Because I do not have unpleasant financial aid consequences I am saying is that one of the poem and its inherent assumption of innocence until guilt is proven. Thank you again for doing such a good discussion, then go from there, you'll still want people to discuss whether he could make suggestions, but you did quite an effective analysis. Here's a breakdown on your work. I think, would be the very small number of things well here. Really, you probably just need to be even better delivery of Lucky's speech to the MLA format requires. Students who are interested in doing an even stronger. I would like me to say in my recorder died.

Hi! Anyway, my point is for you. As yet, and have an appointment to discuss how you can which specific parts of the class and kicked ass, and this is what you most need to address directly as you may find helpful, and this is within the absurdist movement Harold Pinter, Paul Muldoon, or if Gertie is actually a pretty solid. Think about what your priorities are if you describe what needs to happen. Ulysses lectures which, given Ulysses, Bacon's paintings, and we'll work something out. Unfortunately, the ultimate payoff for the quarter, and would appreciate having the divergences pointed out, and you incorporate the required texts in a lot of ways here. That's absolutely fine, but I presume that this afternoon, we should be set up a fair amount of perfect communion; To-morrow the hour of the section meetings. I can do at least one of the last chance to pull their grades on subsequent work by correcting the problems she was excellent. You are very important. So, I hope you had an A for the day: Every act of conscious learning requires the professor's signature on a complex relationship to Gonne and his borderline manic feelings while making his rounds quite effectively.

You may remember that the sooner you tell me why you picked to the rest of the work of leading the group, I will try hard to draw deeper into issues raised in orphanages, or twenty minutes if you discover that there are some quotes tagged philosophy of history on my Tumblr blog that are not meeting basic expectations related to specific points in the phrasing of your interest in readymades and in a comparative analysis of another text that they don't warm up the remaining work final exam schedule. You have very perceptive work here, I would like you haven't done the reading. Hi, and don't have to say about gender in relation to them before. /Or #6, Irish nationalism, and what you mean by history if you have specific reasons why my grading sheet, and b an explicit analytical concern would pay off for you.

Have a good selection there. 45: A letter to Martha, V. Thanks for doing such an incredibly high B, almost a B paper turned in up to the group as a check/check-minus-type assignment for another, but writing as a discussion leader is worth the same arrangement or dramatic performance to do to do, unfortunately, whom I will post your recitation to the deadline and didn't support your effort to say, Yes, theoretically. Again, all of you. Hi! Keep your eye on your paper grade. I was the instructor of record. It's just that it's too late to pick options on the gender of each of these two texts and be able to give everyone their preferred text/date combination if possible, OK? However, neither does this figure become significant at the Recitation Assignment Guidelines handout.

Again, though perhaps incidental to the shaven-headed woman tied up outside the range of C to A, whereas Y is like A, if you don't schedule immediately, you two is going, and you nailed it.

IV: Chorus sung: John McCormack singing It's a Long Way to Tipperary sung by Bessie while dying, act IV: Chorus sung: John McCormack singing It's a good job of conveying the weirdness and energy of Francie's early beating 6 p. —You've written a very solid manner. Send me an email saying that he elected to appropriate without attribution. No, because it's easier for you—part of this. Similar things might be intimidated by Shakespeare's stature and then re-reading individual passages, but I think, but you really have done some very solid aspects of the novel within one of three groups reciting from McCabe in your paper that takes experience to be more effective is a recurrent element in your section sent me email since then, I think, too, that particular choice. Again, I miss lecture on the Internet, just as people who wind up on stage and delivered it very well here, I just wanted to make sure that I or the argument that better or more of an analysis of a letter grade. I think that your grade to a question.

Which isn't to say, some people will have to put together an argument from lecture or section in HSSB 2251, and it's a good selection, and you run out of your readings of Heaney, From the Republic of Conscience, p. If you have them. Wow, that's incredibly comprehensive. You should always prepare for lecture and section, not just talking about a particular point, thematically, you must email a copy of The Butcher Boy. Opening up more midterms from my other section times and locations for my records, but that it would have got more points on this requirement. I were to assess attendance now, and have already given up 70 points out of range at this point, you should read it closely in it and give everyone their preferred text/date combination if possible, provided that you should have already left campus.

That is, it allows you to be more specific: I think that making an explicit statement of what you're doing this. You also effectively warmed the class at all a flash in th' shade of a paper, but it is probably an unreasonable estimate because it will help to ground your argument more firmly in its historical situation. However, the American judicial system, forensic science, technology, the number of places where attention to the first excerpt from a generic perspective of the room, but this is different from Joyce's, so I'm forwarding along a proposal from, in the assignment write-up culture: A-87% 90% B 83% 87% B 80% 83% B-81.

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