Groundhog's Day

Last night Ru snuck me in to the music school's production of Cabaret. I got to the theatre and called him. He was waiting outside all made-up and in nightclub costume. Not only did he sneak me in, he snuck me into the front row. It was a self-date night. I got out of class at five, treated myself to a bean burrito, and sat in Taco Bell grading papers until it was time to attend the theatre alone.


Ru and Kale Jr. post-show.

It was about 11 by the time I was biking home. I bought a vanilla candle from CVS and pedaled into the night, singing The Ataris "San Dimas High School Football Rules" to keep my mind off the wind on my knuckles. Then, in the very back of the instrumental break blaring from my headphones, I was called. Distant and tiny, but urgent. "Alice! Al-ice!" Then I realized--I was biking past an outdoor bar that Boulder and Blue eyes just happened to be sitting at. I screeched to a halt and came in the side gate. They offered me pizza, but it was super meaty. They had giant steins of beer and told me to stay. We talked about time, playwriting, communication, more and more and more. Blue Eyes explained he teaches at 8 AM now, so he is a regular overnight guest at Boulder's.

I walked my bike on the sidewalk next to them as they stumbled back to the house. I live so close to Boulder, I said, "Hey! Let me come over and make pancakes in the morning!" They were quiet. "I mean, I'm not going to say no," Blue Eyes finally chirped.

At 6:20 I biked over and made s'more pancakes for my academic peers. Over the gooey marshmallow cakes, Blue Eyes told us about his 12 year-old who is a picky eater, how he was raised with a healthnut mom. We all cleaned the plates and pans together. Boulder said I should move in to just make breakfast every day. I turned to Blue Eyes, "And you could be our son!" And I think it was a very special, silly morning for the man--the grown man who has a wife and two kids, jobs and school--waking up to someone else cooking breakfast, leaving to the calls of faux-parents yelling, "Have a great day at school, dear! Learn something new! Be safe!"

Life is a cabaret, old chum.