Last memorial day I tried to have a little BBQ... ended up eating and drinking by myself on/near the sidewalk in front of my apartment, while grilling and listening to a festive playlist with songs like Carry on my Wayward Son. I kept asking random people if they wanted a brat, but nobody did... until the guy towing my roommate's broken down car home arrived. The three of us shared one, the tow truck driver finished his as he was pulling away and that was that. It was nice; but a party it was not.

So drunk and frustrated me took to my rollerblades and grabbed a hockey stick to start passing around a puck to myself in front of the local sports bar's little outdoor eating area just a few doors down. The patrons were less than amused I suppose since they mostly looked appalled and irritated at the noise I was causing, but at least I felt like I "doing it right" as opposed to going out to eat like any other night and staring at instagram or reddit while ordering a $30 cheeseburger sitting next to a dumpster in what used to be the gross back lot of the bar. I think I probably unclipped the red velvet stanchion a couple of times just because I found it too comical to remain closed off.

Ultimately, I think it was a pretty weird day. I'm trying to be more at peace with the state of things now, but I can't help but mourn how it used to be.

The scene: https://www.instagram.com/p/CePpDq1rElU/?utm_source=ig_web_b...