In the long and sordid history of wake-and-bakes the story that stands out the most is probably about my ex-roommates girlfriend...who is now his wife. I lived out on the Bed-Stuy/East Williamsburg border in a desolate little block where they brought the chinatown buses at night to wash down.
Anyway, my roommate was hanging out with this social circle that had a regular friday night hang out at a bar in the village. He'd frequently come home late from this, and often with a friend to crash on our couch...but one showed up more than others. When she was first introduced to me, it was as a lesbian who was going through a particularly bad break up...as such she had moved back in with her folks in Long Island, but would crash on our couch when she had a late night in the city.
So it was sort of a ritual over the next few months for me to wake up and come out to the living room to find her on our couch on a saturday morning smoking up. Eventually, she stopped crashing on the couch and started crashing in my roommates bed, which eventually became more frequent than Friday nights. But our saturday morning ritual was pretty firmly in place. I'd go to Duncan Donuts (well, actually to the knock off Dunkin Donuts in our hood called the Donut Connection, which was just an abandoned Dunkin Donuts that had been reopened indepenedently...also, remember in your 20's when donuts for breakfast was totally acceptable...those were the days)...anyway...I'd go to the Donut Connection and come back with donuts and coffee for all of us and she'd be there with the bong.
It's so odd the way NYC forces you to form such unconventional families...but it's also one of the cities great charms. I type this as I head out to a dinner with one of my current unconventional families...a fact that makes me happy indeed.
Also, remember how excited everyone was when this album came out? Shame that it's the only trick Trail of the Dead had in their play book.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment