The other night I had to sleep on my couch. This was a voluntary thing, not some weird spousal issue. I don't even have a spouse. As a result, anytime I sleep on my couch, it is because I decided to.
Last Friday night I had some friends in town. These were more friends-of-a-friend, they were traveling through town on a road trip musical tour. The type of thing I have always wanted to do but I utterly lack musical talent. It is the type of trip I would plan though, and seeing myself in their endeavors, I found it easy to be generous. I carted myself out to Nampa, Idaho which is a rather unremarkable place that some very misguided but hard-working suburbanites have tried to gussie up into some sort of retarded cousin to Bend, Oregon. There is a shop downtown that sells v-neck t-shirts. There is a restaurant call Louie's or Lou's and it has a really, really nice bar. Lou's was closed at 8pm on a Friday night. This is why I say these suburbanites actions are misguided. There seems to absolutely no enthusiasm for Louie's or v-neck t-shirts outside of the small group of people who decided to open these shops.
Also in Nampa there's an old auto shop that has been converted into a coffee house. The brew isn't bad and they sell little gifts that people who wear v-neck t-shirts like to give each other for their birthdays. Really tacky vintage-looking shit made out of plastic that comes from a factory in China. They'll pay like $50 for a lunch box because it has Bette Davis on it. Like I said, the brew isn't bad and the atmosphere for the unplugged concert my new friend put on was kind of nice, so it was easy to soak in and listen to her relaxed and melancholy songs about lost love. Not usually my cup of tea, but I exercised patience and ended up thoroughly enjoying the show. We skipped out a bit early, halfway through the headliners set. It was some guy and a girl with a guitar and a fiddle and I'm pretty sure the guy was wearing non-prescription horn-rimmed glasses "just for the look of it." He probably got them at Urban Outfitters, which is just a 5,000 square foot version on the gift store in the coffee shop I was about to depart with my friends to go have dinner.
At dinner the conversation revolved around religion and its various intricacies. Mainly, how one defines what a "Christian" is. There were many good points thrown around, and ultimately everyone very politely agreed to disagree and also agreed that the wine was phenomenal. It was a Petit Syrah from Lodi, a winery called Windmill. It was cheap and tasted like brown sugar and kicked ass with the thick burger I put down.
After dinner it was decided that the girls would sleep at my house. I had the luck and clairvoyance to give my room a thorough cleaning and to put on fresh sheets, which I only do maybe once a month. I politely volunteered to take the couch and let them soak up the joys of what I will readily admit is the most comfortable bed I have owned in my entire life.
In the middle of the night I woke up so disoriented that I jumped off the couch in alarm. I'm not sure what about it was so unnerving, but not only did I not recognize the room I was in, I scarcely recognized I was in a room at all. I felt disembodied. After a few paces and a tall glass of sink water, I went back to the couch and have been utterly disoriented ever since.
Maybe it was the music. Check it out. www.sharayamikael.com
No comments:
Post a Comment