I drop off the zipcar at 8:15, after a lovely afternoon/BBQ out (thanks to Seth & Michela), and stop at the package store (or the "beer store," as my son calls it). U2's "New Year's Day" is on the radio, and I manage to catch the lyrics just perfectly after the guitar solo. I don't get carded; does this have something to do with the fact that, yes, I've known the words to this song since I was, what, 12 or 13? Or do I look my age when I forget to wear lipstick? Or does the guy behind the desk not care? Probably a combination of all 3, since my husband didn't get carded either. I come out and a guy yells to his friends across the street, "I'm going to poop at White's house. We're hanging out on the corner." Yeah. I love this place. Maybe if it were someplace else I'd be freaked out, but after living here for a few years, it's pretty comfortable.
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