The older I get the more music effects me. I wish I listened more closely when I was younger. Maybe it wouldn’t have taken me as long to appreciate it.
A song came over the radio on my way home and I had to change the channel immediately.
“I’m not ready for that right now,” was the first thing I thought. I knew it would bring about too many feelings. So, instead I decided to write about it.
I caught the phone on the third ring.
“Hey,” he said. “What are you doing?”
Eli? In Windsor? Holy shit. Keep it together.
“Uh, watching The Jungle Book,” I said, telling the truth. “What are you doing?”
I should have been studying, reading, doing something relating to school, but I couldn’t muster the motivation. Instead, I went for an old standard. The other VHS tape handy was “Monty Python And The Holy Grail” but that would only make me want to go home even more. I always watched that with Dad.
“Happened to be in the neighborhood,” he explained. “Thought I would drop by.”
I find that hard to believe.
“Well, good to hear from you,” I said.
Before I could hang up he blurted, “Coffee.”
“Yeah, did you want to go for a coffee?”
“Sure,” I said. “Is it with you?”
“I figure, you know, as long as I was in the neighbourhood.”
I could hear that maddening, shit-eating grin through the phone. God help me, I loved that smile.
“There’s a coffee shop in town,” I said. “It’s called The Eclectic, but we all call it The Epileptic.”
“Sounds like your kind of place.”
“Give me a minute to get changed. I’ll be right down.”
“Really?” He asked. “No need to get all dressed up for me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m still in my pyjamas.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Pump your brakes, Turbo. You still driving that piece of shit Monte Carlo?”