He heard that people who move to Philly either love it or hate it, no in-betweens. Nearly two years have passed since his arrival and, decidedly, he counts as one of the lovers. After a period of shyness, he met Rose the same way he met most of the people he knows in the city – by being himself and having the balls to do what he felt was the right thing at the time. In the case of meeting Rose, having balls and doing what felt right just meant pushing his way through a crowd of people to get her a drink at a party where he'd caught a look in her eye of hopeless frustration.
When his dinner guests begin to arrive, he's preparing a salad. He expects nine people, five of whom he knows. The other four are Rose's friends Suki and Annabeth plus their boyfriends, and this little group arrives last, knocking on his rented row home door just as he removes a roast from the oven. Suki and Annabeth hug Rose and wish her a happy birthday while the others all introduce themselves. He places the roast on top of the stove and joins them in his living / dining room, where he immediately recognizes Suki and Annabeth's boyfriends. A sudden feeling of having come full circle in Philadelphia overtakes him.
"Linc, hey," says Rose, "come meet Suki and Anna and their boyfriends, Garret and Joe."
"Hey, I'm Garret, thanks for having us." A hand extends and he shakes it.
"Yeah, thank you. I'm Joe." Another handshake.
"Nice to meet you guys, I'm Lincoln, everyone calls me Linc. Welcome. I hope you eat meat?"
Both men nod.
"Well alright. You guys look familiar, by the way." He considers mentioning the day when he spoke with them briefly at 700, but decides against it.
Garret and Joseph shrug, and Garret says, "We're around."
They eat dinner and talk about their lives and the city and how the ones who know each other know each other, and he's so happy he can hardly contain himself. The beers go down too easily and he worries that he talks too much and that he overcompensates for talking too much by seeming too interested in everyone else. Did he come off like a zealot for land bank legislation? Did he ask Suki too many questions about the pet rabbit her friend lets roam freely around her finished basement?
Everyone seems to have enjoyed the meal, or at least they tell him so when they leave. It never feels right for him to ask men for their phone numbers, so he doesn't ask Garret and Joseph for theirs, but he thinks next time he sees them around the neighborhood, they'll remember tonight's dinner.
Showing posts with label Suki. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Suki. Show all posts
The Bump Snob
The hot summer sun's rays bounced off the pavement, creating a sauna-like effect as Garret and Suki sauntered down 3rd Street, toward Market. Garret spaced out as Suki reminded him which of her friends they'd be meeting later that evening, and their conversation was about the same as any other they might've had when all of a sudden Suki startled him with a loud shriek.
"Woah, what?" Garret turned and saw Suki picking herself up off the ground, a small wheeled, high seated, uniformly sky blue painted bicycle on its side beside her. A youngish, unshaven man with long, wavy brown hair stood above her, apologizing profusely.
"What just happened?" Garret asked.
"Are you blind?" Suki barked at Garret. "Did you not just see this guy barrel into me on his bike?"
Garret looked at the apologizer, who stood with his hands up, palms out, shaking his head, now turning toward Garret, saying, "Bro, I'm so sorry, didn't even see you guys coming, the sun's so bright and I looked away for a moment-"
"Listen man," Garret said, cutting him short, "first of all, don't call me 'bro.' I don't even know you. Second of all, what's the matter with you?"
"Oh, man, nothing. I mean, I'm just really sorry."
Garret helped Suki to her feet. "You okay?" he asked.
"Sure, yes, I'm fine."
The biker emitted an audible sigh of relief, prompting Suki to turn toward him and glare. His look changed instantly to one of fear, clearly afraid of what she might say next.
She looked like she might explode. "What I want to know from you, Mr. Blind Biker Dude, is why in the world are you riding on the sidewalk? Especially up a small street like Church without a single car on it?"
Biker Dude shrugged. "Well, you know…."
Garret and Suki waited for him to continue, but he just stood there.
"No, we don't know!" Suki shouted. "Know what? Answer the question!"
"Well, the street's just so … bumpy." The guy looked down at Church Street's old stone and mortar surface.
"Bumpy? Are you kidding me? Dude, come on! Deal with it! It's a quiet street and a small one at that. Are you telling me you ride on the sidewalk right here because you don't like the uneven surface? What are you, some kind of bump snob or something?"
He shrugged again.
Garret shook his head, part of him wanting to berate the guy and part of him wanting to laugh. He decided to just get his girlfriend out of there. "Suki, forget this guy. The main thing is you're alright. Let's just go."
She shot Garret a disapproving look, but then began walking again toward Market, leaving the two men behind.
"Be more careful, man," Garret said as he went off to catch up with Suki.
"Sorry again, bro."
Garret looked back at the guy, over his shoulder. "Don't call me bro, bump snob!"
"Woah, what?" Garret turned and saw Suki picking herself up off the ground, a small wheeled, high seated, uniformly sky blue painted bicycle on its side beside her. A youngish, unshaven man with long, wavy brown hair stood above her, apologizing profusely.
"What just happened?" Garret asked.
"Are you blind?" Suki barked at Garret. "Did you not just see this guy barrel into me on his bike?"
Garret looked at the apologizer, who stood with his hands up, palms out, shaking his head, now turning toward Garret, saying, "Bro, I'm so sorry, didn't even see you guys coming, the sun's so bright and I looked away for a moment-"
"Listen man," Garret said, cutting him short, "first of all, don't call me 'bro.' I don't even know you. Second of all, what's the matter with you?"
"Oh, man, nothing. I mean, I'm just really sorry."
Garret helped Suki to her feet. "You okay?" he asked.
"Sure, yes, I'm fine."
The biker emitted an audible sigh of relief, prompting Suki to turn toward him and glare. His look changed instantly to one of fear, clearly afraid of what she might say next.
She looked like she might explode. "What I want to know from you, Mr. Blind Biker Dude, is why in the world are you riding on the sidewalk? Especially up a small street like Church without a single car on it?"
Biker Dude shrugged. "Well, you know…."
Garret and Suki waited for him to continue, but he just stood there.
"No, we don't know!" Suki shouted. "Know what? Answer the question!"
"Well, the street's just so … bumpy." The guy looked down at Church Street's old stone and mortar surface.
"Bumpy? Are you kidding me? Dude, come on! Deal with it! It's a quiet street and a small one at that. Are you telling me you ride on the sidewalk right here because you don't like the uneven surface? What are you, some kind of bump snob or something?"
He shrugged again.
Garret shook his head, part of him wanting to berate the guy and part of him wanting to laugh. He decided to just get his girlfriend out of there. "Suki, forget this guy. The main thing is you're alright. Let's just go."
She shot Garret a disapproving look, but then began walking again toward Market, leaving the two men behind.
"Be more careful, man," Garret said as he went off to catch up with Suki.
"Sorry again, bro."
Garret looked back at the guy, over his shoulder. "Don't call me bro, bump snob!"
Reconnaissance
As Joseph jumped up the subway steps at City Hall, he marveled at how long it’d been since he last set foot near Rittenhouse Square. One could live an entire lifetime between Northern Liberties and Fishtown, he thought.
Even now he only came this way out of necessity, on a rescue mission he feared would become nothing more than reconnaissance, said fear stemming from the following text message exchange with Annabeth after she didn’t answer either of his calls:
Joseph: When you coming to JB?
Annabeth: Probably not but come to McG!
JB stood for Johnny Brenda’s. A bar stool there having cushioned Joseph’s backside for the previous three hours, he and Garret and Suki waiting to hear from Annabeth about when she’d be joining them, Joseph felt toasty during his midnight trek on the Market-Frankford line. At first Joseph thought McG meant McGillin’s, but then he remembered that Billy was a smoker, so it had to be McGlinchey’s.
Joseph strode through McGlinchey’s doorway and spotted them right away through the smoke filled haze. They sat in a booth on the left side of the bar, Annabeth beside Billy, a young guy with long hair Joseph had met a few times seated across from them. Joseph cringed, swallowed his pride, and sat next to the guy whose name he’d never remember.
“Hi,” he managed a smile as he waved at them all.
Annabeth looked in his direction, a devilish face, cigarette between her left index and middle fingers. Billy exhaled and shook Joseph’s hand. The young guy, who’d been jabbering away as Joseph joined them, said, “Yo dude,” and then kept talking. Music blared, an old Velvet Underground tune, Lou Reed’s voice floating indiscriminately among the crowd, through the smoke.
When the kid stopped to breathe, Joseph said, “I’m gonna grab a drink, anyone in need?”
Billy answered, “I think we all could use one.” The others nodded. “Shot and a beer, you choose.”
A tall, slender bar tender with tattoos in various places, the one of a diamond on her left breast in particular catching Joseph’s unwitting eye, asked, “What can I get you?”
“Four Miller Lites and four shots of Jameson.”
He paid the fifteen bucks he owed and left a five dollar tip, carried the drinks back to the booth in two trips.
“Thank you much,” Billy said.
“Yeah, thanks dude,” the young chatterbox offered.
“Since when do you smoke?” Joseph asked Annabeth.
“From time to time,” she said airily.
“I didn’t know.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Joe.”
Joseph caught a smirk on Billy’s face.
“Excuse me,” Annabeth said as she rose. She looked back at Joseph and winked as she entered the Ladies room.
The music changed and now Nick Lowe sang, ‘Cruel To Be Kind.’
Raising his shot glass, his Yoda tattoo purposefully visible to the others, Joseph indicated for them to raise theirs. The three men threw back their Jamesons.
“So Billy,” Joseph managed to start before the kid could talk again. “You head back to Chicago at all?”
“Naaahhh,” Billy drew out. “No way to get back. Besides, Philly’s been too much fun.”
The long haired kid stayed quiet for a refreshing few moments and Joseph heard the music say, ‘it’s a very very very good sign’ just as Annabeth returned from the restroom.
She sat and pushed her shot over to Joseph. “You want mine too?” She asked. “I don’t need this.”
The whiskey went down the hatch and Joseph felt his buzz kick up a notch, watched an anthropomorphic red glass ashtray throw a punch across Billy’s face. He knew then it was time for him to head home.
“Well I was just in the neighborhood so wanted to stop in for a drink, but I gotta go.”
Annabeth eyed him quizzically, knowing he’d actually just been four neighborhoods away.
Goodbyes were said and Joseph hoped he’d catch the train before it stopped running for the night, save the eight dollar difference between that and cab fare. He decided not to call Annabeth for a few days, give her a little space.
(Listen to the original version of Nick Lowe's 'Cruel To Be Kind' here. For a live version performed with Wilco last month, click here.)
Even now he only came this way out of necessity, on a rescue mission he feared would become nothing more than reconnaissance, said fear stemming from the following text message exchange with Annabeth after she didn’t answer either of his calls:
Joseph: When you coming to JB?
Annabeth: Probably not but come to McG!
JB stood for Johnny Brenda’s. A bar stool there having cushioned Joseph’s backside for the previous three hours, he and Garret and Suki waiting to hear from Annabeth about when she’d be joining them, Joseph felt toasty during his midnight trek on the Market-Frankford line. At first Joseph thought McG meant McGillin’s, but then he remembered that Billy was a smoker, so it had to be McGlinchey’s.
Joseph strode through McGlinchey’s doorway and spotted them right away through the smoke filled haze. They sat in a booth on the left side of the bar, Annabeth beside Billy, a young guy with long hair Joseph had met a few times seated across from them. Joseph cringed, swallowed his pride, and sat next to the guy whose name he’d never remember.
“Hi,” he managed a smile as he waved at them all.
Annabeth looked in his direction, a devilish face, cigarette between her left index and middle fingers. Billy exhaled and shook Joseph’s hand. The young guy, who’d been jabbering away as Joseph joined them, said, “Yo dude,” and then kept talking. Music blared, an old Velvet Underground tune, Lou Reed’s voice floating indiscriminately among the crowd, through the smoke.
When the kid stopped to breathe, Joseph said, “I’m gonna grab a drink, anyone in need?”
Billy answered, “I think we all could use one.” The others nodded. “Shot and a beer, you choose.”
A tall, slender bar tender with tattoos in various places, the one of a diamond on her left breast in particular catching Joseph’s unwitting eye, asked, “What can I get you?”
“Four Miller Lites and four shots of Jameson.”
He paid the fifteen bucks he owed and left a five dollar tip, carried the drinks back to the booth in two trips.
“Thank you much,” Billy said.
“Yeah, thanks dude,” the young chatterbox offered.
“Since when do you smoke?” Joseph asked Annabeth.
“From time to time,” she said airily.
“I didn’t know.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Joe.”
Joseph caught a smirk on Billy’s face.
“Excuse me,” Annabeth said as she rose. She looked back at Joseph and winked as she entered the Ladies room.
The music changed and now Nick Lowe sang, ‘Cruel To Be Kind.’
Raising his shot glass, his Yoda tattoo purposefully visible to the others, Joseph indicated for them to raise theirs. The three men threw back their Jamesons.
“So Billy,” Joseph managed to start before the kid could talk again. “You head back to Chicago at all?”
“Naaahhh,” Billy drew out. “No way to get back. Besides, Philly’s been too much fun.”
The long haired kid stayed quiet for a refreshing few moments and Joseph heard the music say, ‘it’s a very very very good sign’ just as Annabeth returned from the restroom.
She sat and pushed her shot over to Joseph. “You want mine too?” She asked. “I don’t need this.”
The whiskey went down the hatch and Joseph felt his buzz kick up a notch, watched an anthropomorphic red glass ashtray throw a punch across Billy’s face. He knew then it was time for him to head home.
“Well I was just in the neighborhood so wanted to stop in for a drink, but I gotta go.”
Annabeth eyed him quizzically, knowing he’d actually just been four neighborhoods away.
Goodbyes were said and Joseph hoped he’d catch the train before it stopped running for the night, save the eight dollar difference between that and cab fare. He decided not to call Annabeth for a few days, give her a little space.
(Listen to the original version of Nick Lowe's 'Cruel To Be Kind' here. For a live version performed with Wilco last month, click here.)
First Date
Joseph took a tater tot, dipped it in hot sauce, and dropped it into his mouth. He laughed like a schoolboy, still chewing, before lashing out with a loud “La la la la, la, la la la” as Bob Dylan’s "The Man In Me" began.
Garret, having just readied his fingers and wrist to roll, turned and gave him a harsh look. “Dude, you’re distracting me, please shut up.”
Suki and Annabeth, three seats away from the tot chomping, sudden crooner, halted their chat, slightly shocked to hear Joseph’s singing voice. They peered over at him and he, expectant of their attention, winked. The ladies simultaneously squinted, caught themselves displaying the same expression, and then burst out in laughter of their own.
Be careful, Joseph, he reminded himself, aware of his growing buzz. This is going well, don’t screw it up.
“Come on,” Joseph said, “you gotta love that they’re playing this song. I mean, you gotta love Lebowski.”
Annabeth said, “Yeah, I do love it. At most other bowling alleys most other times I’d think it’s uber cheesy to play this song, but here I think it’s cool they don’t think they’re too cool to play it, you know?” Joseph could tell that she was pretty buzzed too.
“I think I know exactly what you mean. This place has become somewhat of a spot, not just to bowl, and this song, far from hipster hop or whatever else . . . it just says ‘dude, let’s go bowling,’ only because of the movie, of course. . . .”
“What’s hipster hop?” she asked.
“. . .”
“That’s deep, dude,” Garret said as he sat down and poured from their pitcher of PBR. “If you can take a quick break from philosophizing, you’re up.”
Joseph stood, found his ball, rolled it straight down the middle of the lane. His hopes for a strike came to a crescendo just as Dylan belted, “But oh, what a wonderful feeling. . . .” He watched as all of the pins fell in unison, all but one pin just teetering on its outer edges, spinning slowly on its axis, forever wobbling while Joseph watched it from a crouched position, his desire to flash Garret a huge post-strike smile growing exponentially with every millisecond that passed until, at long last, the pin remained standing.
The bowler turned back to his friends and shrugged. Garret smirked, Suki didn’t budge, and Annabeth gave him a full, toothy smile.
As he retook his seat, Joseph, glad to have found the napkin where he’d scrawled Annabeth’s number on the night they met, ate another tater tot.
(Listen to Boy Dylan's 'The Man In Me' here)
Garret, having just readied his fingers and wrist to roll, turned and gave him a harsh look. “Dude, you’re distracting me, please shut up.”
Suki and Annabeth, three seats away from the tot chomping, sudden crooner, halted their chat, slightly shocked to hear Joseph’s singing voice. They peered over at him and he, expectant of their attention, winked. The ladies simultaneously squinted, caught themselves displaying the same expression, and then burst out in laughter of their own.
Be careful, Joseph, he reminded himself, aware of his growing buzz. This is going well, don’t screw it up.
“Come on,” Joseph said, “you gotta love that they’re playing this song. I mean, you gotta love Lebowski.”
Annabeth said, “Yeah, I do love it. At most other bowling alleys most other times I’d think it’s uber cheesy to play this song, but here I think it’s cool they don’t think they’re too cool to play it, you know?” Joseph could tell that she was pretty buzzed too.
“I think I know exactly what you mean. This place has become somewhat of a spot, not just to bowl, and this song, far from hipster hop or whatever else . . . it just says ‘dude, let’s go bowling,’ only because of the movie, of course. . . .”
“What’s hipster hop?” she asked.
“. . .”
“That’s deep, dude,” Garret said as he sat down and poured from their pitcher of PBR. “If you can take a quick break from philosophizing, you’re up.”
Joseph stood, found his ball, rolled it straight down the middle of the lane. His hopes for a strike came to a crescendo just as Dylan belted, “But oh, what a wonderful feeling. . . .” He watched as all of the pins fell in unison, all but one pin just teetering on its outer edges, spinning slowly on its axis, forever wobbling while Joseph watched it from a crouched position, his desire to flash Garret a huge post-strike smile growing exponentially with every millisecond that passed until, at long last, the pin remained standing.
The bowler turned back to his friends and shrugged. Garret smirked, Suki didn’t budge, and Annabeth gave him a full, toothy smile.
As he retook his seat, Joseph, glad to have found the napkin where he’d scrawled Annabeth’s number on the night they met, ate another tater tot.
(Listen to Boy Dylan's 'The Man In Me' here)
City Fire
The fire burns a bright orange, lighting up Garret’s city yard of stone, warming the bodies of his roommates and friends.
Joseph stares into the flames, in his own world, Garret’s laughter far away, though he sits at a distance of about five feet.
“Joe,” Garret says between giggles, “yo, Joe, I got a question for you.”
Joseph looks away from the fire pit, at Garret’s mischievous face. “Whasup?”
“What’s your mom’s phone number?”
“Shut up, Garret.”
Garret’s roommates laugh because Garret does, though they’re not sure why. Garret’s girlfriend, Suki, eyes him suspiciously.
“Alright then,” Garret replies, “What’s my phone number?”
“You’re so funny, dude. Really you are.”
“What’s this about, Garret?” Suki asks.
“He can’t tell you anyone’s phone number because he doesn’t have a cell phone. He keeps people’s numbers written down on a notepad at home.” Now Garret and his roommates roar. Suki just rolls her eyes.
“267, 365, 8192,” Joseph says, “That’s your number. I remember it. What’s mine, asshole?”
Garret gets a hold of himself, nodding his head and twitching a bit as the laughter subsides. “I don’t know,” he says, “I’d have to look in my phone, I don’t know anyone’s numbers anymore. I just look up their names and push the SEND button.”
“That’s right, buddy. You and everyone else. You’re all slaves to your cell phones. I, on the other hand, am free.”
Suki smiles.
“Free, yeah,” Garret retorts, “free to bum someone else’s phone if you need to call a cab,” he starts laughing again, “or order a pizza. . . .” The joke takes new life.
Suki just shakes her head and Joseph stands to go inside for another drink. “Anyone need anything while I’m up?” he offers.
One of the roommates responds, “I’m alright, but if I think of anything, I’ll call you. Oh wait.”
More laughter from the group as Joseph opens the sliding door and enters the kitchen. Inside, he opens the fridge and reaches for a beer and takes a deep breath, noticing the strong smell of burning wood on his clothes, surely in his hair as well.
You don’t realize you smell like smoke until you walk away from the fire, Joseph thinks. He returns to his friends, drinks the beer while it’s still cold, and then walks from Garret’s place in Northern Liberties back to his Fishtown apartment.
Joseph stares into the flames, in his own world, Garret’s laughter far away, though he sits at a distance of about five feet.
“Joe,” Garret says between giggles, “yo, Joe, I got a question for you.”
Joseph looks away from the fire pit, at Garret’s mischievous face. “Whasup?”
“What’s your mom’s phone number?”
“Shut up, Garret.”
Garret’s roommates laugh because Garret does, though they’re not sure why. Garret’s girlfriend, Suki, eyes him suspiciously.
“Alright then,” Garret replies, “What’s my phone number?”
“You’re so funny, dude. Really you are.”
“What’s this about, Garret?” Suki asks.
“He can’t tell you anyone’s phone number because he doesn’t have a cell phone. He keeps people’s numbers written down on a notepad at home.” Now Garret and his roommates roar. Suki just rolls her eyes.
“267, 365, 8192,” Joseph says, “That’s your number. I remember it. What’s mine, asshole?”
Garret gets a hold of himself, nodding his head and twitching a bit as the laughter subsides. “I don’t know,” he says, “I’d have to look in my phone, I don’t know anyone’s numbers anymore. I just look up their names and push the SEND button.”
“That’s right, buddy. You and everyone else. You’re all slaves to your cell phones. I, on the other hand, am free.”
Suki smiles.
“Free, yeah,” Garret retorts, “free to bum someone else’s phone if you need to call a cab,” he starts laughing again, “or order a pizza. . . .” The joke takes new life.
Suki just shakes her head and Joseph stands to go inside for another drink. “Anyone need anything while I’m up?” he offers.
One of the roommates responds, “I’m alright, but if I think of anything, I’ll call you. Oh wait.”
More laughter from the group as Joseph opens the sliding door and enters the kitchen. Inside, he opens the fridge and reaches for a beer and takes a deep breath, noticing the strong smell of burning wood on his clothes, surely in his hair as well.
You don’t realize you smell like smoke until you walk away from the fire, Joseph thinks. He returns to his friends, drinks the beer while it’s still cold, and then walks from Garret’s place in Northern Liberties back to his Fishtown apartment.
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