Over-the-hill fun
Wednesday night found me in the strangest situation I've ever been in. I cut out of class a little early to meet Jimmy in Decatur, where his co-worker was playing a gig at a place called the Palate. The Palate is a small wine bar with regulars that look like they belong in a yacht club. Plaid button-ups with sweaters tied around the neck, the whole nine yards. Jimmy's boss is about 28-29 and is a self-proclaimed lesbian, and yet she's currently involved in a strange affair with a 40-ish asian man who is married. Michelle (Jimmy's boss), her asian lover, I'll call him Sheng, and his wife, are all at the Palate for the show, which turned out to be some mushy acoustic stuff that would be better suited to sedate people. I was most definitely the youngest person there, and most definitely the most rough-looking, which says a lot. Jimmy left to take someone home, and I sat next to the strange love triangle and watched the sparks fly. I don't know how the asian man's wife is in the dark about their situation. I guess she's that dense, or that distracted.
After the show, we left the yacht club behind and I followed Jimmy, his boss, and the married couple in a sizeable caravan through the Decatur streets to Sheng's house. His house is large, he drives either a Mercedes or an Audi, I don't remember which, but it's convertible and FAST. His front lawn is impeccably clean, his front porch also. The inside of the house is just as clean. We went to the dining room which looked like a corporate meeting office, complete with a giant hardwood table, somewhat cluttered with bills. I'm sure this man has no problems paying them. I have no idea what he does for a living. He pulls out a medicine container full of pot, and packs up a cheap plastic bong. He grins, then goes into the other room and puts on some strange dinner music. I dunno, Kenny G or something? His wife sits down at the table, and so does Michelle, who is d-r-u-n-k. She's not even close to coherent. The atmosphere becomes similar to that of a family sitting around a dinner table at night, talking about their days. Sheng and his wife are at least 40, as I've said. I smoked some, and passed it. Jimmy and I make jokes, which are received with reprimanding glares from Sheng's wife. She's not smoking, and she looks bored or pissed or something, like a middle-aged lady who had a bad day. She ashes an ultralight cigarette into a cup of water, and makes some bland statement about how she doesn't usually smoke in the house. So we all light a cigarette. Michelle gets increasingly risky with her words and body language the more stoned she gets, and Jimmy is doing his best to crack a joke or two so it doesn't feel so OLD in there. I'm just laughing at all the expressions on all the faces. Sheng gets stoned too, and he's now laughing about our plan to bail and go to Wendy's. He thinks it's funny that we eat when we smoke, I guess it's stereotypical, I guess he doesn't do that.
We left and I felt like I had just finished meeting with my parents or something. Michelle drove home drunk, we got lost in Decatur, and I suppose Sheng and his wife dragged their unhappy selves into the bed of a broken marriage. Strange days...
After the show, we left the yacht club behind and I followed Jimmy, his boss, and the married couple in a sizeable caravan through the Decatur streets to Sheng's house. His house is large, he drives either a Mercedes or an Audi, I don't remember which, but it's convertible and FAST. His front lawn is impeccably clean, his front porch also. The inside of the house is just as clean. We went to the dining room which looked like a corporate meeting office, complete with a giant hardwood table, somewhat cluttered with bills. I'm sure this man has no problems paying them. I have no idea what he does for a living. He pulls out a medicine container full of pot, and packs up a cheap plastic bong. He grins, then goes into the other room and puts on some strange dinner music. I dunno, Kenny G or something? His wife sits down at the table, and so does Michelle, who is d-r-u-n-k. She's not even close to coherent. The atmosphere becomes similar to that of a family sitting around a dinner table at night, talking about their days. Sheng and his wife are at least 40, as I've said. I smoked some, and passed it. Jimmy and I make jokes, which are received with reprimanding glares from Sheng's wife. She's not smoking, and she looks bored or pissed or something, like a middle-aged lady who had a bad day. She ashes an ultralight cigarette into a cup of water, and makes some bland statement about how she doesn't usually smoke in the house. So we all light a cigarette. Michelle gets increasingly risky with her words and body language the more stoned she gets, and Jimmy is doing his best to crack a joke or two so it doesn't feel so OLD in there. I'm just laughing at all the expressions on all the faces. Sheng gets stoned too, and he's now laughing about our plan to bail and go to Wendy's. He thinks it's funny that we eat when we smoke, I guess it's stereotypical, I guess he doesn't do that.
We left and I felt like I had just finished meeting with my parents or something. Michelle drove home drunk, we got lost in Decatur, and I suppose Sheng and his wife dragged their unhappy selves into the bed of a broken marriage. Strange days...