Sometimes my complete and utter idiocy surprises even me. I do really, really stupid things all the time: miss turns while driving, fall down while walking (OK, this hasn’t happened for a while), say insensitive things to people I love, stay up to watch the weather forecast and then completely zone out while the forecast is on committing nothing to memory… And then this evening, I wore a pair of shorts to the coffeehouse.
Yes, I’m being overly hard on myself, but c’mon! Shorts?! It was only 68 degrees today in the middle of the afternoon. What was I thinking? At least I did take a jacket that I could drape over my legs like the huge imbecile that I am.
You know what I love about our coffeehouse? Other than the fact that it’s run by the coolest lesbian ever. They are the center of St. Louis’ “Instead of War”Â group. This is what their specials board said tonight, ‘We don’t have any FREEDOM FRIES, but we do have a FRENCH kiss (some kinda coffee drink, I guess), a FRENCH dip and FRENCH roast.’
Ha, I love lesbians. And I also love that, in order to be anti-war, you now have to be pro-French. Isn’t that a little much to ask your average Midwesterner?
On the way up to the coffeehouse tonight, Tim and I once again ended up talking about bands that we liked in our youth. I think it started during that song on Spoon’s Girls Can Tell where the guitar riff is completely stolen from an old Cure song. Tim brought up The Smiths, and I swear that I almost wept, remembering how much I loved that band. (There’s gotta be a Smiths box set by now, right?) Anyway, we ended up waxing nostalgic about our naive teenage love of Toad the Wet Sprocket and the like. It got a little ugly, with reminiscences about ill-fated hookups and ill-advised college radio broadcasts.
Sorry to go on and on, but I love talking about music that I love. Especially the old bands that I grew up listening to. It’s like stumbling across an old stuffed animal that shared your bed for too many years, or thinking back on that silly Michael Jackson poster that stared down at you from your bedroom wall during the entire fourth grade.