attempt at self analysis over jazz

Humanity responds to spectacle.
Its why news is The News
and why no one is honest
with each other.
Sharing what stirs our
hearts or tracing the
chalk outlines of our soul 
often results in the listener
focusing on 
some inconsequential
norm that was broken 
or 
the fact 
that we kissed two people
in the same night.
These judgements 
happen so the
listener might
feel superior 
because
we love
feeling superior. 
Whether we want to or
not.
Even if the superiority
is achieved
thru appearing
inferior 
we will then feel superior
in our inferiority.
This makes all conversations
problematic and causes 
every honest story 
we utter
to be a series of non-stop hand grenades 
rolled out between us
that I jump on
to protect you
from bearing any brunt of the

blast.

But here’s a story 
anyway:
i was 23 and in Washington DC
at the time
where i lived for a year and a half
on $6,000 and the spare change made
from borders books.
one friday night my two good
pals from Boston roy and wara rolled into town in
an Enterprise rental car *becomes an issue later* 
and bellied up at the hawk and dove which was my favorite
bar though they didnt know this nor did they know where i 
lived (beyond: "THE HILL"). I happened to be at a house 
party at one of the most powerful lobbyists in Washington 
who had just been on the cover of Newsweek 
Magazine and smoking hookah on his brownstone
patio feeling - i admit - pretty cool 
and when i pulled the phone from my pocket 
and saw the boys had arrived i bid the big shots 
adieu and grabbed the two cutest
girls at the party (kate and jen) and strolled
to the hawk and dove. the boys had a booth
in the back corner of the bar and were happy
to see me and not unhappy to see the girls
and im sure the house party was less happy 
that the girls left with the intern
but one thing you can’t buy no matter how
much money and power you have is the energy
i have in my soul sometimes and the boys
were drinking jack and cokes and i was
going beer for beer and the bartender, in 
a moment of, all I can say is *pride*, said
'i’m going to start bringing you two beers
each time I come back to the table so I
can keep up with you' and we caught up
on the last months of our lives during
a time when every single day felt like it held
the magnitude reserved for royalty and we
decided to bop next over to a place
near union station and i hailed us
a cab whose driver took us for schmucks 
driving through multiple zones 
(DC had zones not time/distance pricing)
which doubled the cost and i pointed
this out in an unpleased fashion and he denied it
but having been in many cabs i knew the
ruse so told him to fuck himself and when we were
dropped off without paying he started honking 
furiously and we just walked down the long red
carpet under the long green banister and when 
the bouncers frowned about the ruckus I said, 
hes full of shit, and they nodded because
if you have the right presence people can sense
your vibrations and the door guys waved
us in and we took a hard right down to the basement 
and the honking blended into loud music
and i ordered yuenglings and kates 
friend grumpy bear showed up who didn't
smile much and the basement was 
jammed so we danced right next to the bar 
and I kissed jen while we danced 
and I kissed kate while we danced and 
kate smiled 
because I knew she loved dan in our office 
and she knew 
i fancied jen so we’d never take it further but 
sometimes kissing isn’t anything more than an 
acknowledgement of appreciation for the other
and we danced even freer now because 
no one needed anything from anyone and   
eventually roy saw an opening on the dance floor
and all 6 foot 3 planted into breakdance spins  
on his back
and we became court jesters hamming up the 
world and what people failed to realize about this 
era of our friendship is that 
we didn't behave reckless for ourselves or from ego
we did everything to make others more comfortable 
and enter into ways of living they might not otherwise
have access too.
we paid our bar tab and all split off in that 
chaotic end of night way that happens sometimes
and on our walk home I looked 
back and wara said 'im going with her' as grumpy bear 
crossed the street and roy and I started heading back to my 
place and we found him the next morning under a dump truck 
near DuPont circle as all the lights went out on New York City 
and we went to breakfast.

*The following day we camped without camping gear somewhere near Fairfax and after swimming in the Potomac slept in the car and in the morning the car didn’t start which potentially ended Roy and Wara’s employment with Enterprise (we’ll pick you up!) rental car because they’d have to notify the company of any car repairs and we were 200 miles south of where they were allowed to drive but we dodged that bullet flagging down a jumpstart and though we didn’t know it at the time these would end up being the greatest nights of our lives back when the world belonged to us because we were poor.

WHERE:
Hawk n’ Dove, The nearest Metro station is Capitol South, on the Blue, Orange, and Silver lines. It’s a short walk (approximately 3 blocks north).
Kelly’s Irish Times, Take the Red Line to Union Station. It’s a 4-minute walk from the station to the pub. 
WHEN: Both institutions are flexible. Good for day, night, weekend or in between.