A Good Porch

On Sunday I got up earlier than usual, though I had been up until 4am. I went to the gym and came back hungry. Noah and I went to Pho Kim. Sarah texted, said it was too hot in her house.

Sarah and I went to the new SITE Biennial, soaking up the air conditioning. We talked with John, I talked with Deborah. John had had 3 hours of sleep after his party the night before and the subsequent cleanup. Funny that he had someone gallery-sitting his art show so he could gallery-stand another art show. We went to Tune Up. Sarah and I got beers and John ate. We talked about Pokemon Go and future curation at Radical Abacus.

The relief of a gray evening was welcome, as was the expensive bottle of gin that had been left at the party. John handed it to me and I handed it to Sarah.

I was just having fun being a fish or a dog or a sleepy person, comfortable in my friend’s truck. When I am disillusioned or disappointed in the scene I am part of, angsty, or bored for any other reason, Sarah offers ideal escape into thoughtful and observant conversation.

At the Rat Bag party the night before, curators/artists from the SITE show modulated the usual crowd and an unknown group of people played ambling hippie-music to contrast/compete with the dancy vinyl DJs inside. Angelo asked about if one is attracted to others when in a monogamous relationship, RJ, who was standing between us, relayed it to me, I said “of course.” Angelo said something about hard feelings over romance blah blah blah and I wandered off. “Oh bye!” said Angelo, I winked.

MC saw me and asked how I was, I said I felt a little angry but in a fun way. We talked outside the window, bumming cigarettes.

Me: “Angelo is not allowed to express feelings of heartbreak to me because he broke my heart, doesn’t he know that? Maybe he doesn’t know that because I never told him.”
MC: “No, he knows, John told him.”
Me: “Oh okay, cool, I’m glad someone did.”

The party was dwindling but everyone still wanted to be on drugs and in a room together. Sarah and I wanted to be having fun and neither of us had quite found the vibe, so we decided to blast music and go cruising before settling on what to do next. I did a series of professional-level doughnuts in the Wal Mart parking lot and was immediately pulled over. The cops did a sobriety check.

Cop: “You are really good at this.”
Me: “I am having fun, I feel like a cat.”
Cop: “Are you a cat?”

They told me I could go to jail for reckless driving but they were smiling.

I bragged about my sober racecar triumph and Xtian showed me some of his new photos, which were next-level. Incredibly good. Angelo texted, on his bed and on the floor by the piece of glass atop cinder blocks. Sarah talked with MC in the kitchen, then came in and said “do you want to go to the big metal industrial sculpture?” I drove her home. I drove myself home.

Angelo texted me and Sarah: “hows the martyrs”

Me: hee hee
Angelo: whats so funny
Sarah: NOW u wanna talk?? We were just there
Angelo: well I didn’t expect some kind of disappearing act !!
Angelo: you guys i live with two lovers
Me: All I wanna do is hang out with my friends, and bond with my friends, and love my friends, but it’s time for me to go to bed now.
Angelo: uhh but i wanna bond
Sarah: Tomorrow darling. See u then.

We didn’t. Sarah and I had the most bromantic Sunday. Post SITE/drinks, and after Sarah had found and delivered the Portals Burmuda Hostess costume she made at Emily and benji’s, we were hungry. We went to Tune Up a 2nd time. She asked what my favorite and least favorite parts of the decor were, which was exactly the type of provocative question someone who knows me would ask.

We drove up the mountain with the windows down. The air was cold and wet. Deer were everywhere. “Ladies night!” said Sarah. We slowly ascended alongside tens of does. Arriving at Aspen Vista, we stood on the steps and smoked a cigarette, admiring moonlit trees. A good porch.

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