As I mentioned on Saturday, we took the trolley downtown for the Arts Festival and were fortuitous to sit behind some drunk (and possibly half-retarded) man en route to the Joe Walsh show. (Henry was like, “Hot damn, how did I not know Joe Walsh was playing in my town tonight? I bet there will be some wheelchaired hussies prime for the pushing, too.”)
Chooch had made friends (in the span of 30 seconds after they swung on a pole together while waiting for the trolley, must be nice) with a three-year-old boy named Jordan so they sat together (much to Jordan’s mom’s chagrin once she realized some disheveled jagoff was going to start slurring to them about science while twirling an unlit cigarette in his shaking fingers.
Here is the video I took, and in true Oh Honestly, Erin-fashion, I accidentally covered the speaker with my big fat sausage fingers. But, you’ll get the point.
Later, Joe Walsh fan accidentally dropped the f-bomb and was all apologetic to us and Chooch (Jordan’s mom had finally come over and snatched up her child after Joe Walks fan started talking about how much he loved him and Chooch; Henry and I remained ambivalent as always), but Chooch just looked at me with this smirk that said, “Um, that guy thinks I don’t say that word I guess.”
When Joe Walsh Fan learned that we were going to the Arts Festival, he told Chooch to pick out something nice for me.
“She has her own money,” Chooch mumbled.
When the trolley brought us to our stop, I started to follow Joe Walsh Fan and his (normal compared to him) friend to the front of the trolley to exit, but Henry hissed, “This way,” and led Chooch and me in the opposite direction to the middle exit.
“But we didn’t even say goodbye!” I wailed to Henry, who answered me with A Smirk.No tags for this post.