...thursday night,feelin' alright...

When I was walking to the co-op to do my shift tonight, I was totally overtaken by the mood sifting through the streets. It was very damp out, and hovering in that moment right before it starts misting. This air brought out all the smells hanging around. The main one I thought I could distinguish reminded me of homemade soup and a thick slice of bread. I could have sworn we were nearing the end of September more so than August. The leaves are already drying up and twisting off of their branches. I walked by the open door to a bar, not quite ready for business, and caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. It's one of those moments where it's a comforting smell, reminding me of friends and lost loves. This is the kind of evening when a hand made quilt is necessary along with a pet to give you kisses.
Then I remembered it's a Thursday. I wanted to be back in high school, when I had the Thursday night crew to look forward to. I got invited to it when Channah and I became friends. It was usually just a few of us, but sometimes more if folks were back in town. We always got together at Jamison's house around seven o'clock for good coffee, conversation, and an arthouse flick. I loved being there, especially on those colder nights. Jamison would hand roll cigarettes and put on a pot of coffee, while his family's big standard poodle, Caesar, would clatter around. We would eventually put the movie on, and then have to reluctantly amble home once it was over. It was almost always Nilufar, Jamison, Channah, me, Cecilia, and Saskia, Isaac, Margo, Mindy if they were in town. Sometimes others came too. After some time, we wouldn't even do stuff centered around the movie. We might make dinner, or smoke fruit flavored tobacco from the sheesha pipe Jamison had from living in Egypt. One summer night we had a sleepover and swam at midnight. Afterwards we crawled into the car to go to the grocery store to fill that hunger that only swimming can give you. There was also the night (headed back from a movie?) in Jamison's station wagon where it was pouring rain, and on Lowell, his windsheild wiper gave out. Everyone stuck their heads out the window to see the road. Tonight, years later and living in Brooklyn, everything aligned to have all of that flood back into my memory. What's sad is that I am not in close contact with any one of those people currently. There are no hard feelings, and when we run into each other it's always nice...we just all got busy...