By midnight we'd made it up to the roof with the rest of the usual all night go getters. Thanks to Bermy, my head was pretty lofty. I was a lightweight compared to him. Bermy was always holding. I may have actually over done it that night.
"Hey, man -- are you cool?"
"Yeah, like a lightbulb," I said leaning back on the raised ledge.
"I'm gonna go grab a beer. You want one?"
"I'm ah-ight."
Threw the hazy view of my own eyes I saw the other thirty or so displaced souls that had come to call The Racine Apartment Building home. Beneath the strings of big-bulb xmas lights the party swung complete with a dj spinning chillwaves and a loaded bar. Everyone decked out in his or her latest pieces of gear, it looked like American Apparel had thrown up all over us.
I don't know how old Bermy was but I know that he was older than me. Regardless, he weaved threw the talkative crowd with the hopeful sprightliness of a teenager who's parents were away for a long weekend. Most of these people had families and mortgages and a closet full of ill-fitting khaki trousers or a few pairs of mom jeans in the drawer. But I didn't get the sense that anyone missed his or her mini van.
That was the night I met Blue Jay.