Last night we had an anniversary party here at Tinhatsblog (2.5 years). I brought the cake and it was a dark chocolate mouse cake with yellow roses and to eat one bite was to die happier than you’d ever lived. I ate a lot. Perhaps too much. Then Missa Him arrived to case the joint and make sure there were no cats. Cats make Aaron homicidal and it was a party, for crying out loud.
We were at the redbrick roller rink down on the Truckee river. It’s the place where I learned to walk again after hospitalization for water-on-the-knee left me dragging a leg like the goddamned Hunchback of Notre Dame when I was only five. That part of town ⏤ known for sawdust honky-tonks and wagon wheel motels ⏤ was abandoned after they built the new interstate. Now the river scurries past and buildings lay to dust. It’s a shame because it could be nice but that’s good old Reno Nevada for you.
At my urging we’d strapped on antique roller skates that weighed ten pounds and had wheels that needed constant oiling. A disco ball hung just above the rink and the music pumped from ancient speakers reminded us of carousels and instructed us to just keep circling no matter how our ankles cried for mercy. From the dark bleachers, people watched but we could only see their unblinking eyes.
Wasn’t that our last dance? Duke asked. Weren’t we supposed to leave this place hours ago?
We’ll have some mezcal, I promised.
And some magic mushrooms, Aaron added.
And we’ll just go around
(thanks for staying at the party)