Come Out and Play

Friday and Saturday nights are always the craziest. You tell yourself you’re going to slow down, but you can’t. There’s a bittersweet victory to it. An apprehensive exaltation. Every night is crazy. Every night you’re on drugs and drinking cheap beer and cheap wine. Because, really, cheap wine is the best. Three bucks for a jug of Sutter Home? I’m in. But Friday and Saturday night can’t be beat. Those are the nights with shows and house parties. None of this “I’ll go hang out at my dealer’s house for a few hours and get stoned” shit. Friday and Saturday is when everyone comes out to play.

You’ve got a Lower Class Brats show to get to on Friday, they come on at 11. So you’re thinking what the hell do I do before that? So you meet up at the Rocket House and get your fix from Transit, the four foot bong, and watch your pal do a line before you head out to 7-11 for a case of Bud. Because Bud is cheap and there’s a lot of thirsty fucks in your group. Then maybe you can hit up your dealer’s pad anyway and see what he’s doing. Of course he’s in the back room fucking his girl but there are a grip of kids in the living room with a bag of shrooms. You figure why not? The show is crazy, tons of punk ass teenagers and old guys with Mohawks. You hang back a while but you can’t pass up a Circle Jerk. There’s a skinny little kid jerking in the middle who gets kicked in the face by a flying Doc Martin and hits down hard. But this eyeliner chick helps him up so it’s all good. Then the skinheads jump in and it’s time to jump out. You get some shwag and take a piss where you’re convinced there’s some guy giving himself an enema next door to get the coke out. After the show you hit up Denny’s for a Hammy sandwich then go rummaging through town late at night. People think you’re a fuckhead and probably wreaking havoc but really you’re just walking down the street laughing at the idiots who cross to the other side just to stay away from you, but you feel sort of bad about it too and you and your buds get in a deep philosophical conversation about societies view on culture and scare tactics. Then you’re all depressed so you shortcut through the park and smoke another fat one. Once you’re back to numb and passed the park you see this cop car coming straight for you lights blaring. You freak out, but try to look calm, you know it’s nothing. But everyone else freaks out anyway, especially little Nina, Jack’s girl ‘cause this is her first time out with your pack so everyone starts running. Now you’re suspicious, so you take the fuck off too and climb a tree, because really, why not? And the cop just goes by, probably didn’t even see you. Everyone gets back together laughing over it and calling the cop names. You lost Jack and Nina, but figure they’re pry in the alley making out by now and leave them. You figure most bars are closing now and hit up 7-11 again for more Bud, or maybe you’ll switch it up to Miller cause you’ve got an extra couple bucks in your pocket. Sammy gets some Jack too and you know he’ll share it. You guys all go back to the Rocket House for drinks and pot and maybe more lines before you all pass out.

And that’s just Friday night.