And it was a night like any other night.

We smoked a little (nicotine and cannabis,) walked over to the pub and started with whiskey shots because they were free. Aaron, the bartender, loved us and knew we were do-or-die repeat customers. One time, I had a cold and asked him to make me a cocktail with vitamin C and cough syrup. He said he couldn’t, because that way-overstretched the legality of his liquor license, then he did it anyway. He was ours and we were his. This was before the whole extra-transactional thing. 

Shots of whiskey across the bar. Boom, boom, boom. Then we moved to something from the tap. Cider? Always a good call. Apples came from the trees, the earth. Plus, we were still kids so anything sweet like candy made us feel young and old at the same time. The haze snuck in quickly. Just in time for everyone to show up.

Jeremy first, of course. The man craved loud noise and interaction. We hollered at his arrival and hugged and shoved alcohol into his hands. Ip and Amber came next, stoic and quiet as a couple but eager to be a part of the bigger “WE.” Winter was a few minutes behind, and she brought Pete and Evelyn. Morgan showed up eventually, because even though Imir said he didn’t want to see her, we knew she was going to be there.

Handfuls of others filtered into the bar like drops of oil from an engine onto a garage floor. Our screams of welcome increased in volume as our population bloated. Cameron was late as always. Argo expressed a reluctance to come before kicking the front door of the pub in with an exclamation of “WHAT’S UP, MOTHERFUCKERS?”

Then Seth and Sophia arrived, arm in arm, and our party was complete. They separated as soon as they set foot in the door to greet those who came before them. Hugs and kisses were exchanged, alongside varying japes and warm greetings. 

We dispersed into our circles of conversation, flooding to the patio to smoke more. The evening melted quickly into incomprehensible and incalculable hours. As the night grew pregnant, Aaron harrumphed and reminded us all that the cops were cracking down on closing times. So we collected and decided what was next.

The plan was reliable: disperse and meet again at Sophia’s.

Imir and I walked the three blocks back to my place. We drank a forty and sipped cough syrup. Then, we got in his car.

The whole crew was there when we pulled up. The lights were low. Inside the living room, the candles had already been lit and the circle had been drawn.

We disrobed and we grabbed our knives.

It was another night of calling, but whom were we to call?