Ok, I have slept, and slept, and slept some more – cause that’s what unemployed people who don’t come home until 2:30 a.m. do. I was all set for a quiet night alone, enjoying the chill in the air and the December thunderstorm soaking all the area Christmas tree lots when I remembered that it was Monday. Sometimes on Mondays after bowling, when we still did bowling, I would stop off at Cicero’s on my way home. It’s just up the street from me. There is generally a good crowd for a Monday, a good band that is cheap to see, and good beer- they have hundreds of beers on tap. I called John to see if he was up for it, he was, and I also called Dano.

I haven’t seen Dano for a while, as he was working on a republican campaign; I forget for whom as I’ve blocked it all out. Dano is not a republican or a democrat; he’s an opportunist libertarian. In a classic example of opportunity not being a lengthy visitor, his candidate lost and now all the staff are like me: unemployed. Dan is like that: he is always in motion, always changing jobs, always upbeat. He did the first year of law school with the lawyer boys, which is how we met, but found it not to his liking. Since I’ve known him he’s been a broker, a waiter, a campaign worker. He is a career drifter like me. It turns out that Sunday was his twenty eighth birthday. He’d done the family thing and was ready for more festivities.

Despite the downpour, Cicero’s did have a large crowd, but not too large, and a good band. We watched the end of the football game that puts the Rams undeservedly at the top of our division, had a pint of Guinness and went in back where the bands are. We saw either Madahoochi or The Greyhounds, play until the close of the bar and then we went up to The Delmar for a nightcap. All in all a very normal night, a bunch of guys out at bars drinking beer.

I suppose for me the band was the best part. They were a sort of jam band ala Derek and the Dominoes, lots of high-energy guitar and keyboard with a very full sound. The kind of band where you just stand in place dancing absorbed by how much fun they are having. The energy transfers from their cohesion, up through the floor and bouncing off of every right angle in the room such that it just might be possible that you are enjoying yourself too.

There were lots of early twenty something girls with the psuedo dreads and long flowing skirts marinated in patchouli. Their outlines are always fuzzy like willow trees reflected in water. A tall slender one washed up on my shoulder and whispered something in my ear. I asked her to repeat it, but it turns out that the volume was not the problem; she was speaking an unbreakable code. The euphemistic cycle has turned a few gyres since last I spoke that language. I had the strong impression that she was not flirting, but trying to sell me something. Once upon a time I might have been buying, but I am ten years plus out of that market.

Dan is a full head taller than everyone you know and as a consequence women can spot him easily as the possible May pole of their May Day. When left alone in a bar for any amount of time short girls with craning necks will begin to circle him with ribbons of giggles. Such was his fate last night. I’ve never known him to have a girlfriend – I assume he maintains the same level of motion in his private life that he exhibits professionally. I am ten plus years out of that market as well.

Ah well, today the rain continues and I am well rested to face the bleakness of the daytime world in this my latest phase of self re-definition.