Coconut Bourbon and the Saturday That Didn’t Happen

The sky is that clean late-summer blue, an O.C. rerun is on in the background, and the weekend is almost over. I went to bed early last night, which means I was up too early this morning, which means too much time to think about Friday.

First unofficial class reunion—nearly everyone showed. It’s the first class I’ve stayed properly in touch with after school, which still surprises me. Some of them I still go out with, others I catch up with over ICQ or text late at night. We met up and eventually ended up at the PM. On the way, André’s sister Ilka and her already-drunk friend appeared and asked us to pick them up from a folk festival a town over. We had to make an unscheduled stop in a field so Melly could be sick. Bumsi suggested using a blade of grass to help matters along; Melly was not interested.

The PM was worth it. The bourbon tasted like coconut—Ilka agreed when I mentioned it—and Billy Talent’s new album was going loud, which helped. I ran into Verena, and Koksi, who I’d somehow never quite noticed before. Turns out she’s really cute. We drank and talked and danced in that approximate way you dance when there’s no real floor, just a crowd and enough room to move. Good night.

Saturday I’d rather forget. Spent most of it staring at my phone waiting for Rebecca to text, which she didn’t. The ex-girlfriend curse, right on schedule. I need to stop doing that. Tonight I’m supposed to meet Tobi at the beer tent—foosball, drinks, no waiting around for messages that aren’t coming. That’s the plan, anyway.