The teenage version of Zack would’ve reveled in the singer’s stance. “F- you I won’t do what you tell me…” the lead singer repeated over and over again, the ultimate plight for anti-authority popularized by Rage Against the Machine. I recognized the mantra coming from the stage as we entered.
Lucky for all of us, cooler heads prevailed.Ī few blocks and a dozen office buildings later, we approached the 10 Barrel Brewery, the company responsible for all the racket polluting downtown Boise that evening. The entire block was roped off with a stage near the entrance, and patrons poured in and out like kids at a funhouse. He even had a positive comment for the girl sporting a midriff with a pair of Jenco Jeans, expressing sincere remorse for our lack of conforming attire. His eyes grew with delight as he spotted a group of tacky outfits, splattered with bright colors as if they were living out the characters from Clueless. “Dude, we could’ve done that,” was the typical response after each Spice Girl and Fresh Prince of Bel Air look-a-like we spotted. Scattered sightings had been creeping about since dinner, and Josh’s incessant reminders of how we should’ve participated assured us that we were heading in the right direction, at least for beer anyway. It would be another several minutes before we’d make it to the Tubapalooza block party, several minutes of which Josh was unable to process that his constant contact was unwelcome, no matter how many passive-aggressive hints were given.Ī heaping sound of garbage grew in direct proportion to the density of drunken adults sporting 90’s fashion. Josh held those tokens tight in his man sack like it was an impenetrable fortress. “It’s ok bud…” Really? You just went there again? “Hey, don’t feel bad about me and Pat giving you a hard time… You know what your problem is? You take things a little too personally.” Oh, he’s asking for it! Just give me those beer tokens so we can settle this once and for all! “Dude, Zack…” He switched tactics, this time putting his arm around my shoulder, making it easier to justify the knuckle sandwich.
#Clean jenga dares how to
Gee Josh, you sure know how to ease the tension. “C’mon buddy, don’t be so sour,” he followed with a firm grip clasped upon my shoulders… shoulders that clenched upon contact.
#Clean jenga dares for free
And up to this point, my disdain for Josh hadn’t quite topped my affinity for free beer. But Josh had the upper hand, two beer tokens in his possession… two tokens that he was still willing to give me. “What’s wrong Zack? Looking a little tense don’t you think?” I thought about it, long and hard. For the moment, I could see it with clarity, a knuckle sandwich beautifully delivered smack dab in the middle of the nose. We left the pub that evening, I a bit wiser, Josh a bit smugger, and Pat with one less friend. Against her will, Gretch had left with her parents, and once again, I was back to face the world, alone but for a single ally, and even that was on shaky ground.
0 kommentar(er)
