Thursday, April 24, 2008

That Time

Do you remember that time we danced in the living room to Otis Redding?

Do you remember that time I shot my brother's nine millimeter into the air, and only wondered where the bullet would come down after I pulled the trigger?

Do you remember that time I stole the bottle of Adidas cologne out of that kid's pocket in middle school, even though I knew he would know it was me?

Do you remember that time we used to smoke the crushed butts of Viceroys out of your old man's ashtray?

Do you remember that time you brought vodka to the Youth Group trip to Chicago?

Do you remember that time that guy we knew got his hands of six pint bottles of raw ether and the way we screamed when you tried to light a cigarette?

Do you remember that time when we couldn't stop laughing?

Do you remember that time we walked up on that group of six deer and they just stood there and looked at us?

Do you remember that time I was looking down into the Valley of Armageddon, and didn't even realize it?

Do you remember that time we held hands while walking on the beach and then cracked up at what a cliche we were?

Do you remember that time I told the kids at school I had lots of GI Joe vehicles and figures because I wanted them to like me even though they probably already did?

Do you remember that time I saw the neighbor kid's dad punch him for not helping with the groceries fast enough?

Do you remember that time you told me that you hate people that do the things you do?

Do you remember that time we sat in your car in the parking lot at Kroger trying to pick up the Indianapolis station long enough to hear Radiohead's "Creep"?

(Regina Spektor's "That Time" came up on my iPod and got me rolling.)

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