After Pub Fair

That Friday night was the Pub Fair, branded as “A New Bardian Tradition”.

All the college journals bonded together to form a club, and this was their event (the pub-lication fair). There was a keg and tables lined with journals. I came too late for food. A lot of people where there; Amanda, debating weather or not she was tired enough to leave, Alana getting her fair share of beer, Cat with two friends from home. This Bardian Life, a radio show a couple of my friends run (TBL; Kelsey, Zappa), was present too, since in consists of people reading their writing.  They were going to do some readings, but instead everyone started to dance and then people started to do modern contact dancing, which was strange to see outside the context of a dance show.

I walked out to wait for the 11:40 shuttle, and joined two groups that were already waiting. The first group consisted of three girls singing along loudly to their phone, another boy who was singing along with them, holding a bottle in a brown bag. I know one of the girls from my creative nonfiction class, but no one from that class really remembers each other¹. 

1 Oddly enough, considering we basically spent a semester cutting out our hearts and putting them on paper; printed copies enough for everyone. I talked to another girl from the class that day and had to ask her how we know each other, because I knew her name and we started talking spontaneously after recognizing one another. It took us a few moments to remember that it was through Celia Bland's non-fiction workshop.

 

Anyway, them, and a boy I had talked to briefly in the beer line² his friend who started up booty banger³. There was another kid, who I don’t have a good feeling about, but who left soon. He looks like a model (pretty, but not attractive), his name is Will. Booty banger was saying something about that they should hang out more “I love you man!” and getting information on the location of some part`y.

2 Him: Is this water? Awesome! Me: I’ve never seen anyone so excited about water”; that was our conversation. Let’s call him water boy. His hair was slicked to the side, surprising preppy looking for Bard

3 Booty Banger was a dance series at smog, that got quite big.They got shut down because too many local high school students were coming, so intoxicated that they would have to be taken to the hospital in the ambulance.

They were talking about drinking, the girl from my nonfic class said “we should all go to my place and drink all the alcohol there, which apparently is a lot because they are installing a bar” and booty banger was saying something about having to keep that secret “loose lips sink ships” and held a finger to his lips and looked over at me and I made the same gesture, my scarf tangling slightly in my hand. The guy who was singing was trying to get them to play ‘dancing queen’ they ended up playing ‘Fernando’ which one of the girls got indignant about because “it’s the worst ABBA song! I refuse to, like, know you!” at this point the two groups started merging; booty banger sang a bit as non fic girl came towards him and told a story about how she was once mistaken for a celebrity because she had some card and he said something about her hair making her look like Miley Cyrus and she responded by storming of, ‘angrily’. 

Here's a portrait I drew because I don't have any photos

Then the shuttle came. But it was going in the wrong direction. “who told us it was coming in ten minutes?” “emelia (?-or something else. Her name, accusatory)” and she responded to me “wait, but why were you waiting here?” “because I go by the 40” “see, exactly!” “but I don’t have a fancy phone like you, I have an excuse!” and then water boy “do you want me to show you mine” at which point he pulled out his iphone and I was thinking ‘wtf? This is so innuendoed I can’t handle it’ as he said something about the Tivoli shuttle schedule and I told him I don’t live there. Booty banger came up to me and said “what’s your name?” but I responded to someone else, I don’t remember what they had asked, before saying to him “T---” “Antonia?” “T---” “T---, short for T---” “I like that. T---; T---- its pronounceable. (or something along those lines). At this point everyone was herding around me. I had been standing slightly up the hill from everyone, and everyone had come up and was standing around me and he asked me “where in Tivoli Iive” “I don’t, I’m just lazy, I live on north” and then him to everyone “I hear there’s a banging party at kline right now!” which was funny because I knew he had been there earlier, and the nonfic girl “let’s see Dylan DJ!” and something about Dylan and I said bye and left and as I was crossing the street I heard “omg, she’s going to walk all the way to Tivoli” from him and I said “no! I live on north campus!” “she’s like totally thinking that we are crazy” and I waved and kept walking and ended up in my dorm, writing.