Last weekend my spiritual being was born again. After arranging to go out with a good friend he informed me that he needed to make a courtesy appearance at a friend’s Christmas party. Upon walking into the party he mentioned/warned me that he had no clue what to expect, but being a self-perceived laid back individual - what do I care? Soon after walking in I realized I knew only 2 of the what seemed liked hundreds of people - one being my friend and the other being a resident of the apartment, whom I met upon arrival. Oh well. Trying to entertain myself I weasled my way to the barrel of beer on the back porch. Once I had a beer in my hand I could just sit back and observe the festive scene that surrounded me. Almost immediately after settling into my observation perch I noticed somebody in particular. Then again, how couldn’t I? This guy who was maybe 22-23 years old was doing everything in the book which labels someone as “that guy”. I objectively observed him in his full suit equipt with monster cigar trying to be what I’ve seen in every mob movie created. The self perceived laid back guy I claim to be was slowly being eaten away by this kid and his loud and obnoxious antics. Soon after I realized I wish he didn’t exist - one of the girls who lived there approached the kid, who I dubbed Jimmy, and asked him to extinguish his cigar. She stated in a calm manner “could you put that cigar out? people aren’t even smoking cigarettes inside”. I thought it was a reasonable request as I did notice everyone who wanted to smoke politely stepped outside to do so. After the request to extinguish the monster cigar Jimmy replied with “I will, don’t worry...i will, i promise, i will trust me!” The resident walked away in hopes that he would indeed put it out. Where I’m from “I will” means I will, but where Jimmy is from it must be something different. He continued to wave his lit cigar around, which I don’t ever recall him actually smoking except for keeping it lit, and being as obnoxious as ever. Time passed and again the girl approached him and asked him to extinguish the cigar. This time Jimmy replied with “but it’s not lit!” and hid the smoking cigar behind his back. I had tried so hard not to get involved but as soon as the girl left I couldn’t resist and I told Jimmy to put out the cigar and respect these people’s home. After doing this one of his friends, who had been staring at Jimmy like he was Jesus, replies in a fake Italian-American accent “who’s this guy?” I just turned away and wondered why they were invited. Soon after this my friend who I was in attendance with found me and i gave him the low down on Jimmy and his equally ignorant friends. As I was at first, my friend was in awe that Jimmy wasn’t kidding, and in fact that is how Jimmy actually acts. Thats when the girl approached Jimmy for the third time and with a little more conviction and tells Jimmy to put the cigar out. Once again Jimmy goes with the “its not lit” approach, but the girl persists and asks “then what’s that?” as she pointed to the smoking cherry that laid on her wooden floor. Jimmy had been caught red handed and knew it, so he dropped the fat chewed up cigar on the floor and mashed it with his foot. You would think that this would infuriate the girl, but I think she was just happy to have the cigar out and walked away. Victory!....or so I thought. Almost immediately after the girl turned and left, Jimmy was lighting a brand new cigar. Once again trying to stay out of it, I permitted myself to turn to him, look him in the eye and ask “are you kidding me?”. This led to nothing as he continued on with his antics that had turned me into a fuming individual. My friend, who encouraged me not to be consumed by this idiot, saw that Jimmy had gotten the best of me. We made a plan to have one more beer and split. I thought that was a great plan and even encouraged my friend to skip the line to the restroom and to visit the great outdoors. He agreed and we left the party. I walked down the tall, steep wooden stairs as my friend hurried to the alley to tend to business. Soon after I reached the alley I noticed two girls approaching from across the street. I did what I could to serve as a decoy, but in my attempt the girls approached me and we began to chat. My friend awkwardly finished and we all talked as we found that they were going to the same party. They asked questions of “is it crowded? did you have fun? why are you leaving?”, but what happened next I’ll never forget. As we continued to talk I heard a clunck, a thump, a bam, and a crash as I instantly knew someone had fallen all the way down the stairs on exiting the party. In genuine concern I ran around the tall bush that was obstructing our view to see if anybody was hurt. All I saw was our very own Jimmy laying in a very awkward position as only one could do after tumbling down a tall flight of stairs. In all this all I could do was raise my pointer finger towards his face and yell “IT’S JIMMY- HAHAHAHAHAAA! IT’S JIMMY”. My friend and I soon left to go to a pub, and laughed the whole way there.

– FO –

last night a friend and i went to see brand nubian, a hip hop group popular in the early 90's, perform at a local venue. they were playing with a live band and to say that the band was good would be an understatement. the band consisted of a 3-man horn section, percussion, guitar, drums, bass and keys, and they were funky. i was torn between watching/studying the group or the band, but then noticed something that seemed odd. it took a second to register, but still needed confirmation, so i leaned to my friend. "hey...is the percussionist wearing a castro-style hat...like mine?" - uh huh. "hey...is the percussionist wearing an orange shirt...like mine?" - uh huh. who wears orange shirts anyways? "hey...is the percussionist wearing green shoes with yellow laces...like mine?" - uh huh. who wears orange shirts with green shoes and yellow laces?? thats ridiculous. it was somewhat surreal how similar we looked at that time.

i thought it would be interesting to meet him. ends up that i run into the guy after the show. i didn't have to say much. i told him i'm a percussionist as well, and told him he must've got the memo. he noticed immediately that he was essentially looking into a mirror. essentially the same stature, same dress code (including dickies pants), and the same sense of..."what is going on?". he seemed to understand that i was merely pointing out the situation and not pulling a 'single white female' move. he ran backstage and returned with a cd and told me to contact him so he could put me on the list for an upcoming chicago show.

– FO –

after a long weekend of halloween parties, the actual date of halloween falling on a wednesday didn't seem to carry as much importance. regardless, i found myself in a half-baked costume at a local bar with a friend. the place was peppered with costumes and i overheard talk of a contest to be judged by the bartenders. people were milling about as my friend and i were bellied up. that's when i heard my friend instinctively say "wow". i turned to see a short, yet very large woman with a truly scary face. we made eye contact so i pursued a conversation with her. she was very proud of her zombie costume but most specifically her face. she went into great detail about how she spent five hours applying the liquid latex to her face. i soon realize that she had come alone as we discussed her technique, inspiration, and somehow her horrific childhood. she moved on, enjoying herself, and we dubbed her 5 hour face.

time had passed and i saw the bartender start to organize the competition. she started pointing to certain costumed patrons announcing who made the "finals" and directing them to the bar to our immediate right. she had called out about ten contestants, however 5 hour face was not one of them. this didn't discourage 5 hour face as i saw her amongst the chosen. the bartender established that the contest would be determined by applause and proceeded. she called out the character names of the contestants one after another. it was obvious who was going to get my and my friend's vote, but about 3/4 through the voting i put together a campaign for our "write in" contestant. as the voting was nearing an end it was becoming more clear that the bartender was going to overlook 5 hour face. it came to the "last" contestant and the bartender points and shouts out...."and last, but not least....". thats when i disregarded the "last" contestant, stood on my stool and shouted "whoa whoa whoa, you can't forget 5 hour...uhhh....zombie girl!" it must've been convincing as i have no idea if there was even a vote for the "last" contestant. the bartender asks the crowd "....and for zombie girl?" thats when our camp of maybe 6 at the most cheers with everything we had amongst the dull cheers of sportsmanship. it was obvious, 5 hour face was declared the victor. she received her cash prize of $100 and basked in her glory. she soon made it over to us. it was good to see that she didn't forget the little people. she was excited. really excited. she explained how she at age 35 had wanted to win a costume contest her whole life. she was very grateful for our help and proceeded to give her prize money right back to the bar by buying my friend and i drinks for the remainder of the night.

– FO –

possible additions : jeopardy - 1998 | korean kid - 2009