Word: andrews
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...Erin, who wanted a baby, Spinny, for the bassist’s cousin, Jumpy, for the girl who jumped into him. At the Red Roof Inn, he repeated them again, like the names of stars in a newly discovered constellation. “Oh God,” Andrew had groaned two days earlier, when Matt told me how, lying on his back in the open landscape of Yosemite National Park, he had seen a shooting star. But Matt had not cared; his earnestness comes without apology. Baby, Jumpy, Spinny, he repeated. Then he fell asleep...
...Andrew hesitantly returned it, looking wary. Erin rolled her eyes. Nearby, a girl who had spent the last 30 minutes eyeing the dance floor gathered her courage and bounded forward. On her way, she knocked into Matt Glazer, grabbing his hand in what I assume was meant to look like an apology. Soon, they were dancing...
...high began with his request, which he made at the next place, a bar called Tootsie’s. It took a little bit of deliberation, but soon he was rushing to the front, where the band stood. Then he rejoined Andrew and me at a back table...
...Matt and Andrew joined in the cheers, but when the singer got to the part about the Statue of Liberty shaking her fist, they her fist, they quieted down and took their seats. What is this? I asked. “It’s like that guy was saying in Memphis,” Andrew whispered. “Spoilin’ for a fight.” “Jingoistic crap,” Matt added later, in the car. “Do they even know what this war is about?” But neither...
...back,” he said, and then he did it. “I ain’t as good as I once was… But there was a time, back in my prime, when I could re-ally lay it down...” Andrew and I looked desperately for Matt. Thankfully, he had run from the bathroom just in time, pumping his hands high in the air. So what if the singer had misinterpreted his long hair. That was it! His song! He pumped his hands in the air one more time and grinned...