Alternative

September 20, 2008 at 7:52AM

I woke up too early today, couldn't get back to sleep. Showered and spent a while debating what to wear to the rehearsal. I ultimately decided on khakis, a dark green sweater and my black bomber jacket. I thought I looked sort of cool, but my hair was still too short, and I wanted to cover it with something; I added a baseball cap to the getup. But I didn't dry my hair properly, so it felt wet under my hat. When I looked in the mirror, I realized that the hat didn't really go with the rest of my outfit, but I couldn't take it off now because my hair was flattened beyond repair.

I wolfed down some cereal and toast with blackberry jam, loaded my guitar, patch cord, tuner and picks into my case, and left the house, baseball cap firmly on my head.

Inside Mom's minivan, with the engine running and my phone plugged in, I start typing Beth's address into Google Maps but get interrupted by a text from Alex.

Hey bro, can I hitch a ride to band practice?

I quickly type a reply.

Sure, text me your address.

I look at the distance to Beth's place, pretty out of the way, more suburban than I'd anticipated, and calculate that by picking up Alex we were likely going to be late for rehearsal and screw up Beth's perfectly calibrated schedule.

I decide I'll just gun it. Maybe if I drive quickly enough, we can get to rehearsal on time, not start things off on the wrong foot.

Alex sends me his address. I plug it in and hit the gas pedal.

Later... idling in front of Alex's house, I call him for the third time and he finally picks up.

"Hello?" he sounds confused.

"Hey, it's me," I say, "I'm waiting outside."

"Oh! Cool. One sec" he says, as though suddenly realizing who I am. I wonder if he's already forgotten that just twenty minutes earlier, he asked me to come pick him up. Maybe his memory is genuinely as terrible as he'd said.

He lumbers towards the vehicle carrying a bunch of different things, dropping them one after another. I sigh, get out of the car and help him out. He's so excited to see me that my irritation immediately dissipates.

"Too much shit to carry, you know," he says.

"Let me help you."

We quickly load his drum kit into the car and hit the road.

I keep glancing at the clock on the way there. We were supposed to be there at noon, and it's already 11:47. Google Maps says we're still half an hour away. I start getting anxious.

Alex's phone starts ringing.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll be there soon," Alex says into the phone. "We just got a little lost."

I turn to him in confusion. "No, we didn't."

"Tim is arguing with me, doesn't want to admit he got lost," he says. "Classic dude response. Sorry, we'll be there soon!"

"Why'd you say that?" I ask.

"What? Don't worry about it, man. Just joshing."

"I would have left earlier if I knew you needed a ride."

Alex absorbs my tone and gets a little serious, tilts his head down.

"My bad, man."

Weird seeing him apologize. He looks so fragile. I should have played it cool.

"It's all good, buddy. We'll blame it on traffic. Also, she never told me that she lived in the heart of the burbs."

"Yeah," he replies, with a grin. "What the hell's that about? She should have had a huge disclaimer at the beginning of her schedule saying: "Warning, this shit is going down in the burbs and will take FOREVER to get here."