 |
spent the last few days
digging out a basement--smashing concrete then
digging down 14" in sandy soil to make more
headroom. mostly me and jesse, tho matt ford and
rick pitched in for a day each, and dylan came through at the
very end to make the work disappear in one last
coordinated push. jed and paul helped carry the
20-foot conveyor down many steps to the
sidewalk, and arne oversaw it all. like rats in
a maze, we focused on the cheese, which in this
case was a keg of beer leftover from andi's art
opening 13 days ago. done, we traded our shovels
for 16 oz red plastic cups and sat at a trio of
electric typewriters. drank too much too fast
and then rick, jesse, and i went out for more at
Targy's, where we drained 3 pitchers and drew on
dollars, each song selected on the jukebox
sounding stranger than the last heard through a
filter of drunkenness. we all got home somehow
and i woke to the bad dream of another
hangover. |
|