Bad Copy

It was a Sunday afternoon. Between not really being able to go out much since moving to Chicago and just finding out I got hired for a new job since I fucking hated the one I was currently working at, I found myself in Party mode. My girlfriend Kaylin and I met Kendra, Mat, and David over at David’s house for a fucking delicious pre-show brunch get together before the Good Friend, MakeWar, and Brendan Kelly show at the Cobra Lounge. It was after the two Watermemosas (Watermelon juice and champagne) that I realize I might have already gone too far. I pulled out some some really old sweet tea that I had mixed with bourbon a few weeks ago. I was was halfway through the first glass when I realized there was a whole bunch of slimy shit floating around in it. The sweet tea had gone bad. Not one to waste liquor, I picked that shit out, mixed in some Dr. Pepper, and went about my business. Yup, we were ready to go out in public.

We took a Lyft to Cobra Lounge – probably the smartest move we made all day. Good Friend played first and I watched maybe two songs before I found myself in a booth debating with David whether or not the new movie based on the making of the movie The Room, called The Disaster Artist starring James Franco and Seth Rogan, looked good or not. Spoiler alert: we landed on the fact that it did look good and I’m pretty sure we agreed to go on a date to see it.

I felt bad for not really watching Good Friend, because from the few minutes I was in there, they sounded like something right up my alley. But you know how when you get a little too drunk and high that you have trouble focusing on a single thing? That was me. I found myself outside smoking and talking to some people over a cigarette about just moving to Chicago. They had the natural reaction of, “Well, you have to try some Malört then,” but ignored me when I said I’ve been in Chicago long enough to be immune to that tire fire. But they also bought me a beer, so it was a win-win really. Well, a win-win-lose because I also missed half of MakeWar‘s set.

0 for 2 so far. I was really killing it at this show. I made sure to stay put for Brendan Kelly. It had been a very long time since I went to a show and watched 0% of it. Tonight (today?) was not going to be one of those nights (days?). I stood there as Brendan played a handful of acoustic songs, covering everything from a Chris Lawrence Arms song to The Falcon to the Wandering Birds. The best part was when he played a new, yet to be released Wandering Birds song called “The Ballad of Buffalo Bill” in which he sang about ‘Serigio’ and our Bad Copy party camp erupted in cheers.

After his set, we all gathered in the back bar and finally did what we had been talking about trying all night – Statue of Liberty shots. We ordered up shots of Rumple Minze, we each dipped our finger into our shot, we lit that fucker on fire and held it high in the air, and then took the shot before we burned our flesh off. Kendra ran to the bathroom to barf. Mat and David began arguing over the merits of Michael Bay films, and that’s when I knew it was time to go home.

The next thing I knew I was in David’s living room and we were watching the Four Lights/Squarecrow video on David’s big screen. It was Sunday night and I was all of a sudden very tired and I had to work super early the next morning. I knew this was just the beginning of a rabbit hole I was unwilling to go down and it wasn’t even 10 PM yet. I had enough time to get home and only hate myself a little bit in the morning. So I said my goodbyes and hopped in my Lyft home. After a millisecond of silence, the driver blurted out, “Hey man, did you know that Tommy – the green Power Ranger motherfucker – is trying to MMA fight Jean Claude Van Damme?” It was the cherry on top of a very strange and wonderful night.