Twenty-Three Million to 111,000

I never realized how important a driver’s license is until I lost it recently. Last night I went up to Best Buy to pick up something I’d ordered online, and they wouldn’t let me take because I didn’t have my license, it even though I had the e-mail confirmation and the credit card I placed the order with – meaning the only way it wasn’t me is if someone had mugged me and stolen both my wallet and my e-mail letter.

Later that night I went to the Black Cat to meet my friend Al (for what we call an “Al Night.”) As with the trip to Best Buy, I’d already forgotten I didn’t have it. Before I could object, the doorman put two huge black Xs with magic marker on my hands – the mark that indicates you’re too young to drink, and usually is associated with pimply-faced teenagers. Very undignified. I went home, scrubbed my hands with a special soap made of citrus-based solvent and crushed pumice until the X’s came off, grabbed my passport, and returned to the Black Cat.

The annoyingness of these events was mitigated somewhat by the bands we saw there, J.B. Beverley And The Wayward Drifters, and Junkrod Joe And The Cadillac Hearse. Junkrod Joe was fast, loud cow-punk, and JB Beverly was more rockabilly (and the better of the two bands). Plus there were lots of women there eager to dance, even with a terrible partner like me (thanks for the lesson Anna!). Between the bands, Al and I played pinball, which was fun even if Al humiliated me with a final score of 23 million to my pathetic 111,000. The evening was topped off with slices of pizza at Manny and Olga’s, which only tastes good late at night after a few drinks, and then Al caught the S2 uptown to Mount Pleasant as I caught another S2 south.