Allston Summer Nights

So, tickets in hand I bicycled over to her apartment. I didn't trust my piece of shit phone to hold a charge, so I had to meet her prior to the show. My week had been an eventful one, including an arrest, a couple house parties, and a hit of acid. As we pedaled back over to Allston, I regurgitated these stories, perhaps embellishing them a little, but hey, I am an entertainer. We arrived at the venue and I listened from the outside. Big D wasn't playing yet so we agreed to smoke a cigarette and take a couple drags of the Ol' Thompsons. I sat down on the cracked sidewalk, beside a vent that was blowing hot air, perhaps from a dryer. She got a phone call from a friend and began chatting. I began rolling a cigarette when an older long gray-haired man approached me and inquired if I had purchased my tobacco from the smoke store at Harvard Square. I had. That store sells very nice, fresh rolling tobacco for much cheaper than the mass produced corner store brands. Anyway, he sat down on the sidewalk next to me and began to explain how a friend of his smoke American Spirit tobacco but he thought it was awful. That Harvard tobacco is the good shit. He then introduced himself, his name's Ralph. He carried on his way, next door to the liquor store to pick up a few shots and a beer. We went inside, the show was about to begin.

A couple PBRs and we were ready to go. I scoped out the crowd to see if some my other friends had come, too. No one I know except the door guy from the bar I frequent. Big D stepped on the stage. They began by playing some new songs, which sounded a lot like their older music, much more punk than their last album. We were dancing from the back of the crowd, she was clearly enjoying herself. More beers and more music, the night was still young. The crowd was getting into the music. Crowd surfers and skanking kids filled the room. I stood in front of her, to protect her from flying legs and stray punches. The show was soon wrapping up and we ventured to the front. They saved their toughest songs for the end. She loved it. I grabbed her from her back and shielded her from the lead singer jumping pretty much on our heads. I do believe I even stole a kiss. We were sweaty, shirts drenched of perspiration. We left the club as soon as the last song rang its last note.

I took her to the roof. Now, I still have the key to the back stairwell of my former apartment complex. This stairwell happens to lead directly to the Harvard Avenue rooftop. We looked out upon the traffic, hunched over the rail like a couple of gargoyles. My thigh-warmed whiskey was still plentiful, and we polished it off, despite its temperature. We joked, wrestled a bit, and I do believe I kissed her again. She had fun atop that tenement, in the summer moonlight.

The booze had run dry, we went to the bar. We sat around the corner in the dart room, no other chairs in sight. A pitcher of beer accompanied our discussions. We laughed some more, she always brings out my drunken charm. I can go one of two ways... drunk asshole or drunk cool guy. Well, I was damn cool this night. Smooth, like butter. We finished the pitcher, and left. En route to my house we stopped again. More beer! We went to somewhat of a douche bar, but its okay because it closest to my house. I go there often for lunch. I run into a few former co-workers and say hello, but immediately grab her hand and embark towards the dance floor. We danced to some top 40 bullshit but in a drunken stupor, its some of the most mind-blowing music you can come across. As the bar closed we left for my bed.

Stumbling into my apartment, a couple roomies were watching television in my bedroom. They left, we stumbled upon my futon mattress placed directly on the floor. That thing has been killing my back lately, by the way. We fucked for a while, we were drunk. Next thing I know I'm waking up to the sound of her alarm at 8 am. She says she didn't want to go to work. She hit the snooze button and began hugging me fiercely. I rolled her over me a few times, and laughed. I asked her what her favorite part of the night was, and she said, “everything”. That's right. As she dressed I could not help but to stare. She is absolutely gorgeous. How did I get so damn lucky? She left, I smoked a joint, replaying, in my mind, that fucking awesome Allston summer night. This is the shit I live for.