Say, Mister, can you spare a nickel so’s I can get me a 40-oz of time?
I keep wanting to tell y’all about the drunken white guy who took off his sandals and tried to sing “Boogie On Reggae Woman” at Spotlight Karaoke the night before Chloe went back home, but I don’t have time to do a danged thing. I don’t even have time to answer my e-mail. If you e-mailed me and I haven’t written you back yet, don’t be mad, okay, baby? I swear I want to write you back real bad. I’m just trying to do all this stuff…. They make me do actual work at my new job, you know? I still gotta buy school supplies. It’s a good thing I remembered to go to the bank the other day. What — the kids wanna get fed again?
The guy started off strong with a lot of “WOO!”ing but then realized that he was too drunk and didn’t really know the words. So he turned his profile to us and, possessed by the funky ’70s synthesizer and bass, rotated his elbows and ass in tight rhythm, it being all he could do not to fall down.
Any other drunken white guy would have given up — just pumped his fists and screamed his friends’ names into the mike. This guy was like a muttering salmon swimming upstream. No — up a freaking melted glacier coming down the mountain’s side. We watched him with all our hearts syncopated and bottom lips bitten. Boogie on, drunken white guy. Boogie on.
