“Hubs!!!!” about five of my friends from the living room cheer loudly. I love when I enter a room filled with a bunch of my friends for the first time in an evening, it seems they always stop what they are doing to give me a heroes welcome. I’ve mentioned to them that this always makes me smile. Maybe that’s why they do it. Or maybe it’s because they are around each other a lot more often than they are around me. Or maybe they just like the sound of my name passing between their lips. I like to think its cause they like me.

I went to the Freedom’s last night. They invited a bunch of people over to watch the Monday night football game.

Cool, glad you could make it over to watch a little football with us Hubs. Go Broncos!
Eh. You know I could give a shit about the Broncos, I don’t even know who their quarterback is.
It’s Jake Plummer Hubs.
Well, I just came over for the snacks, the beer, and the company.
Beer’s in the laundry room.

Things calmed down quick. I never know what to say when people ask me what’s new. I had a conversation with a girl I’d never met on the back porch. While we were watching the dogs run in circles we were able to make it last a total of five sentences and it was a struggle at that. I just don’t care sometimes. It makes me lonely. At the wedding I found myself walking up to the long, folding-table with the white tablecloth on it, and picking up the several of the plastic champagne glasses and drinking their contents in two swallows. Then walking out on to the porch, sitting down next two girls who were making out with each other in order to get attention from others. This annoyed me. I finished my cigarette before they were finished entertaining. Sometimes I’m too bored to enjoy myself.

The broncos were winning the game by more than 30 points before the end of the half. The game was a blowout, the natives were restless so the tequila and makers mark shots came out. Lots of the guys got really drunk cause they had girlfriends or wives that would drive them home. A few lived within walking distance. By the end of the game things had completely melted down. The conversation traveled from how to pickle tomatillos to donkey punching (which, surprisingly, many found humorous), and everywhere in between. We were screaming above a TV that was on way too loud, about politics, using gross generalizations that we really didn’t understand. Soon me and Beach just began singing random songs that we made up on the spot only cause we didn’t want to listen to them argue anymore. And we wanted to hear our own voices pass between or lips.