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He takes off in search of drinks.
Meanwhile, one of his bandmates
comes up. Hi. I’m Jeremy.
You’re Quade’s old friend, huh?
I’m not sure why, but I smile
a come-on smile. [Way to go!]
“Well, I’m not that old, but we’ve
known each other a long time.”
That was a lot to say with
cotton-mouth, and Jeremy
has a clue what that means.
Now it’s his turn to smile,
and now I know where
this evening could go.
Partying with the band? Isn’t
that every girl’s dream?
It Was a Definite Party
And one that went way too late,
especially considering I was
the one donating most of the ice.
Quade didn’t touch it, but his buds
all did. He watched, more than a tad
disapprovingly, but never said a word.
He drank. A little. Smoked pot. A little.
But no meth, and no tobacco. Bad
for the vocal cords, he claimed.
I did it all. Enjoyed doing it all,
surrounded by three decent-looking
dudes and one who resembled
a raccoon, with black circles
