i was laughing my head off- Metro was running up and down the basement looking for his roomate’s rum somewhere in her closet. she’d stashed some bottles of it but there was none of it, or she’d taken it. we had DC Punk Singer’s cheap whiskey and then we were like, “no. we gotta stay sober. what are we gonna do about Mica Grad.” we tossed out calling her punk rock father- he’d be mad. we thought about calling her hot boyfriend in bushwick. then Mica Grad called and it was okay. somebody just needed to pick her up and sign for her.
we stopped drinking and we jumped in the car. i dropped off Metro, who was drunk, and DC Punk Singer, across from the stripper club, Choices. Metro had sworn that we should get a taxi- we’d been drinking for five hours. but DC Punk Singer said i looked okay. i put on some dress pants that i’d worn to an interview where i’d nailed a gig. i changed in the front seat, then Metro said i looked good to go.