fairway's stocks waffle crisp

you know what i have realized? i don't need to impress and constantly work to please some tentative wishy-washy people into sort of being friends with me. the friends i've got are pretty darned good.

last night, for instance, i was supposed to review yet another concert for the paper. admittedly, it was more of a 'high art' shebang--a dissonant symphony composed by one of our proffessors--but you don't really understand that difference until you have committed yourself to sitting through an hour and a half of what sounds, to be dangerously frank, like an orchestra tuning.

anyway, i brought along my neighbor, who is so intent on experiencing life in general i think she would happily come along with me to prison, and at the last moment my radio host, who volunteered under the woefully inaccurate assumption that we were going to a rock concert.

'what? we're going to a classical concert?'

'WHAT? THERE'S NO FOOD INVOLVED?'

we had to take a subway to the venue, some artsy place on the upper west side, and my radio host in particular grew more and more alarmed as we took our seats.

'there are no guys here,' he noted palely. 'there are only old people. fancy old people.'

the concert started. it consisted of four or five compositions which were dreadfully complicated, more interesting than classical, and not allowed to contain any harmony. that's right: none. no harmony. is my proffessor wildly talented? definitely. did i wish, somewhere approaching the forty-five minute mark, that i had not pledged to sit through till every last note had been screeched, grated, and twinged? oh man...when the houselights at last came on, i felt like arthur dent, gasping for air, lolling back in his chair as the vogon captain reshuffled his poetic notes.

my neighbor muttered: 'that was awful.'

my co-host piped up cheerfully from the reserved seats, like ed wood: "that was AMAZING!"

anyway, by this point there have been two developements:

development a) the station programmer/manager/set designer (?) has arrived; he is a good friend of ours, and came bearing radio prizes

development b) members of my school's only all-girl band have materialized in the audience

development b bears especial signifance, not to diss the all-too-easily dissed radio friend, because they want me to play with them thursday night for a school event, and aside from having to give up my radio show, i really don't feel equipped to do so. i've practiced with them once, and it went fair-to-well, but having only really played with my dad's band before, i do not think two and a half practices are going to be enough to make me sound decent with their band. the problem is that their guitarist quit, and apparently there are no other guitar-playing girls in my school. sad but true.

so, after several renditions of 'if you don't play, none of us gets to play!' and 'you can do your radio show any week, but this is our big chance to play a stern gig, and you're our only hope!' which is of course siamese for 'you're ruining it for everyone, you stupid loser', i agree to play thursday's gig with them. which means from now until then, basically, i'm going to be a thinly-disguised rack of nerves with an amplifier built in.

but none of that was the good part.

the good part came afterwards when, to save on subways, we decided to walk back along broadway. correction, that was my neighbor's idea, and i agreed only because it was cheaper, i felt guilty for dragging her along, and she promised me there would be real grocery stores along the way.

'big ones!' she said, stretching out her arms. 'with lots and lots of cereal! it's the upper west side!'

'but what about safety?' i said.

'come on, we've got two guys with us! we've got...'

she trailed off. reality sunk in.

'we've got the co-host and station programmer with us,' i said. 'i think if push came to shove, we'd have to defend them.'

'eh, we'll handle it.'

listen, we really miss grocery stores.

so essentially we walked back along broadway, bouncing from grocery store to grocery store, marvelling at all the many amazing items you cannot get at duane reade. we got waffle crisp, crispix, mixed berries, milk, and chocolate whip cream, which did not survive the trip home. (don't do it. it tastes like chocolate milk whipped up.) we stopped at a pizza store the station manager recommended to us on the way home and ordered pizza, before the guys realized they were still fleishing. while we were waiting for them to thaw out, my neighbor and i slowly picked all the broccoli and mushrooms off their slice.

then we all continued walking back, employing several registered Silly Walks, offering whip cream at key intervals, walking into a few poles in the case of the co-host, and just generally having a good time. i felt more like a teenager than i've ever felt in my whole life, which is weird. it's like some deferred high school experience.

lest my parents fret, we were home pretty early.

anyway, the point is, i had a really good time. at a dissonant symphony, for goodness' sakes. and it occurred to me that as long as you've got someone to share your geeky humor with, it really doesn't matter how ridiculous anybody else rates you.