3 guys from Sheffield

A few nights ago three guys from Sheffield, England walked into the lounge. Lounge lighting is nothing more than a few red interior lamplights, the luminosity of moonlight when someone opens the back door, and whatever glows out of the television mounted on the wall. When these three guys walked in I could only make out their silhouettes at first. They were big guys, lumberjacks, and as my eyes adjusted I was able to distinguish more contour. I could see they were inked, in worn denim, short hair, beards, 20 gage lanced, and all-weather terrain. I grew up with guys like them. 

Working in the lounge is a big change from what had become my regular routine but I had an opportunity and seized it. I want to be where the people are. Real people. Not the bright light avant-garde $10,000 (that's ten-thousand dollars) per one Ono Champaign cocktail at the Encore, but real people, rum and coke, people.

These three guys looked like rum and coke, people.

Turns out they were Budweiser people, from Sheffield England. Three of the most down to earth, nicest guys I've ever met.   

Working in the lounge is temporary, just filling in for a few weeks, but I forgot this night life, I forgot how it changes your diet, changes your sleep, changes your mood, makes you forget everything you used to do during the daylight. I like it. I lost 7 pounds in the last week and my eyes now hurt when I see daylight, but that's to be expected. 

The 3 guys from Sheffield and I talked until closing time while they drank their Budweiser. Among many, many other subjects we talked about Penn and Teller's episode of Bullshit on recycling, Prius cars, I asked them a thousand questions about Sheffield, we talked about hockey, we debated over the reason Americans don't call soccer-football and football-soccer, they told me about their travels and adventures, we talked about the political strife in Egypt, we talked about food, alcohol, the infrastructure of different social circles in various parts of the country both in America and England... I was in heaven.  

One of the guys and I swapped emails. "If you ever cross the pond..." he said.

Count on it.


When the night was over,

When I found myself back in my living room,

In front of the television, 

Drinking a Sapporo,

Poking at something I heated up in the microwave,

I was too exhausted for either.

But I forced myself to stay up,

Because,

as if it was a sign,

Dolly Parton Southbank Show, was about to come on. And following that was Dolly Parton Song By Song. 

I am now a Dolly Parton fan.

I should film this.

"Little Asian girl in a big Country world, somewhere in Los Angeles."