Hi.
Last weekend, I went to a music festival with one of my besties. It was 400 degrees, so he was surly. We had some beers when arrived. On the way there, a young bride with a full skirt caught my friend's attention. "Look at this goddamn bride getting her picture taken on the bridge. Fucking asshole."
Admittedly, it's not a pretty bridge. I heart him.
After some beers in the heat, we ran into a friend from college and her beau. They ran into some more people. We watched some middle schoolers rocking Talking Heads and Nirvana. No joke. They drew a crowd.
Among the friends our friend brought to the mix was a hippie who had also had some beers. Hacky Sack and I struck up a conversation about the arts. He asked what I wrote. I said mostly essays and memoir about the uncomfortable. Like what, he wanted to know. Religion, relationships, sex - you know, life.
At this, he lit up. He talked a bit about his romance experience and said he was very interested in talking about relationships. He gave me his card. I tried some back-and-forth until he said, "Yeah! I'm most interested in talking about things in the physical realm, you know?"
Yeah, pumpkin. I know. That's when I texted my friend, who was standing to my right. "Help!" And he did.
A couple days later, I had a thing published about relationships. But not the kind that interested Hacky Sack.
If you're interested, please check it out here (and stick around because there is some great writing going on there).
Cheers.
