Friday, March 28th, 2003 9:00pm…I had worked a twelve hour day and I wanted to call it an early night…after twelve hours of putting up with office bullshit, the last thing I wanted to do was hang out talking with drunk people all night. So, I went to the video store to pick up some porn…before I could even reach the “special room” in the back of the store I heard a familiar voice say, “Hi Zoe!” It was my neighbor’s 16 year old son…I realized that he was working at the video store that night and I just couldn’t bring myself to rent porn from the kid next door who mows the lawn…I couldn’t leave empty handed so I picked up the last copy of “Jack Ass: The Movie”. He told me I was lucky because they were usually sold out.

So there I sat- in a parking lot, in my car with a movie I could care less about and now I had no reason to get home…I then remembered that the SU Orangemen were playing Auburn in the Tournament so I headed for the nearest sports bar to get lost in a nameless faceless crowd and watch the game while getting drunk…While standing at the bar waiting to order my first shot of Cuervo and a beer, the obviously tipsy man sitting on the barstool next to me says, “Hey I bet you don’t know who I am.” I really didn’t want to bet him and I didn’t want to talk to him. He however proceeded to introduce himself as a lifelong friend of a guy I work with. He rambled on as I chugged my shot grabbed my beer and turned on my heels to a TV set to watch the game. It was in the first half and it was a truly great game. I was thoroughly engrossed in the action when my focus on the game was shattered as this girl’s voice cut through with “Is that you Zoe?” Oh God, I’d been picked out of a giant crowd by another person. She was someone who used to work in the same building as me nearly two years earlier. She was drunk and introduced me to her boyfriend and best friend and while I repeatedly turned my attention to the game. It was halftime with Syracuse up 37-27.

I felt a tug on my arm and I turned as she asked me to play a game of pool. I said that I didn’t play pool. She then insisted that none of her friends were very good and that I would fit in. I quickly finished my beer and explained that I was heading home.

Actually I was heading for a bar called The Snubbing Post in Rome and I knew they would have a band. I figured that if I could get to a bar with loud music and a TV I could get drunk and watch the game uninterrupted by conversation. Not to be rude to the live entertainment-The band was called “Feedback”- but this was a killer game!

As the game progressed, more and more of the crowd was turning it’s attention to the TV. During the commercial breaks, I would focus on the band. They appeared to be in their teens and had a sound that you’d hear from an inexperienced garage band. They had long periods of dead air between songs and quite often they didn’t all end the song at the same time.

The game was in the final minutes and would flip flop between Syracuse lead to Auburn lead with each basket. I felt kinda bad that no one was paying the band any attention. I think if they had a little more performance experience, they would have realized that a break was in order. The crowd was cheering with each SU score. And with each commercial break I would turn and listen to the band—they clearly looked uncomfortable.

It was then that it happened again. I was approached by another drunk person who wanted to talk. She yelled ”Hey Zoe, do these guys suck or what!” I turned to the TV to watch the game, or commercial or anything.

She went on, “Oh my God, I usually like Tom Petty!”

Auburn scores. Syracuse down one.

“These kids should of practiced in the garage a whole lot more.”

Syracuse scores-up one. It was down to the last second. The score 78-79 Syracuse. Time out!

“Don’t these guys know that this is a bar? They gotta do better than this. I mean, etc, etc…”

I couldn’t take it. She was ruining the game. When play resumed and Auburn failed to score on the inbound, the bar crowd roared louder than the band. I turned and headed for the door.

As I walked to my car I thought about the band. Feedback, didn’t have the polish or hours of rehearsal necessary to play a full show and hold a crowd’s attention in a club, but they did display some potential. Not only that, being a teenager playing in a band on a stage in a barroom full of people is something that any young musician dreams of. Today they might be the background music for a televised basketball game, but you never know where they could go if they stick together and continue to practice. Look at the Orangemen.

I gotta go home and watch Jack Ass.

--Zoe