Metal Show

    Last night I was over 21 for a few hours.  After work, I jog home.  About a mile and a half.  Then I play courier and pick up some money, run another mile to my dude's house, or sketchy alleyway, and then back to my ex's.  I tell her I am keeping five dollars change to keep myself from feeling used.  When the deal goes down, of course my dude doesn't have change.  I keep this to myself when I get back to her.  Jogging there, I feel like it's burning a hole in my backpack, down through my shirt and flesh and into my bones. 

    I get a text from Mueller: "InterArma at Nara tonight!  be there."  I am rushing there on the Golden POS / Ram Rider because he tells me his band goes on at 11:30 and it is 10:55.  I get there at like 11:40, and hurry to lock my bike up.  I see Mueller drinking a beer with some chicks.  I hop the fence, not paying for entry despite loving the owners, and climb up the deck, throttling Mueller and sloshing his beer everywhere.  "WHEN DOES YOUR SHOW GO ON?!?!?!"  I chugged three beers before leaving my house. 

    "We're after the next band.  We're headlining."  He then introduces me as his dishwasher.  Because I am Mueller's personal dishwasher.

    I go inside to meet up with Olebak and JLee.  JLee tells me I am 21 and buys me a beer.  "We're going to Ipanema next, you need an 'Over 21 bracelet.'"  We never go to Ipanema, but this bracelet is magical and suddenly grants me access to a whole new world of drinking.  The Bar Scene.  If you can call Nara the bar scene, I don't know, but here I am telling Dan Mills that among things like "You need to teach me how to cook," that the bar scene sucks.  

    "Once you turn 21, you'll go through a phase, but yeah, fuck that shit." 

    Again, I agree and iterate that the bar scene sucks.  If only my 20 dollar tab could jump in a time machine and warn me.  I'm having money issues, and because of 2 or 3 dollar beer, I am digging deeper a hole I cannot climb.   I buy Dan a beer.  Finally Mueller's band goes on at like 12:50 and Dan says, "Let's go to the front and be assholes."  This is followed by him just headbanging while I thrash and throw people with my body.  I drop my Yeungling but catch it before it hits the floor, grabbing it at its empty neck, upside-down.  Like I'm about to go into a bar battle. This combined with my drunken sway is so threatening to the girl behind me, she snatches the bottle and gives me a disapproving glare.  I tell her thanks.   I didn't want to hold that shit.

Dan: "I'm too old for this shit."
Me: "You're never too old for throwing people around, you're a BLACKHOLE OF HATRED!"
Dan:"Wait, correction, I am too sober for this shit."

    The awesome InterArma finishes up and pulls out, leaving you wanting more.   They pack up and begin to leave. I say hey to the singer, Mark.  Apparently we have met somewhere, he tells me, "but you were in supreme inebriation mode." 

    I help the owners of the restaurant clean up and I get a free triple shot of vodka, with some lemony tonic.  Then one of the owners gives me 5 dollars for helping out.  This will later go to beer bought off of some dude walking past my apartment at 3 in the morning.  Olebak, Kirkland, and myself haggle.  6 beers, four dollars.  6 beers five dollars?  FINE, FINE, 6 for 6.  We sit there and drink the rest of the beer.  I rip off my over 21 gauntlet, I am not 21.

Now there are scratches, bruises, and blisters covering my legs.  What's next?