Outsider Part 1: Acknowledgement III

The Place To Be

I met this girl through my brother. He knew some people and she stopped by to say hi to him. We got to talking about the whole place I decided to ask some questions. Why not? I had to get my shit together and get this thing done. The beer would be wearing off soon and the morning was coming. She was pleasant enough. There was no abrasion in the conversation that I had, no moments of awkward pauses which I would find out would be a poor model for the rest of the night.

It started okay. I asked her about the local scene (for lack of a better word) and why she was there. She didn't really like the music, but a lot of her friend were here so that was cool. She knew of only one band that was playing that night only because one of her friends were in the band. The post was littered with flags of military branches and plaques commemorating the service of patrons long ago. A tall American flag was towards the back of the bands set quietly swaying back and forth. "Our cause was just" was on a flag above us denoting the service of Vietnam veterans. Apparently she noticed it too. She found it amusing that a lot of people seeing the show were against the war in Iraq and were "Bush haters". A few people in room were adorned with worn out camo cutoffs and one guy sporting a jacket with the marine eagle, globe, and anchor. If she was right about their politics, then it does seem strange for people to come to a veterans post to watch a few bands put on a show. What do I know? I'm an outsider here and don't really know these people. It's really not for me to say as there is not enough information to make even an educated guess. I thanked her and walked outside with my brother to get some air.

It was a cool night with some light fog dimming the streetlight slightly down the road. There were a couple of groups that I noticed before I walked into the place. It was probably an hour and a half since then. A guy wearing glasses as thick as mine, shaved head, black tshirt, and cutoff black jeans came up to him and started shooting the proverbial shit. The buzz was slowly filtering away, making me a little nervous for what had to happen next. Talking to strangers in strange territory is not easy for me especially when these people have already formed their packs of familiarity. Fuck it. I went and talked to a group of three that have been outside for probably a couple of hours. The conversation they were having was quiet when I intruded upon it. They were from Harlingen. Fucking HAR....LING......GEN. That's a nice 45 minute drive to come hang out in a parking lot. The dedication to kill a night was commendable. The name Trenton was brought up and was missed by them. An apparent hangout for shows that was shut down because of fights I took from them. They didn't care much for the music as it was just something to do. I heard the same thing from another group ten feet away from them. In between my cigarettes, the phrase "something to do" popped again.

Something to do? Drinking beer and having barbecue is something to do. Watching a movie or reading a book are somethings to do. I'm not sure that hanging out in a parking lot is something to do, but what do I know?

The answer - Not nearly enough.