Anticipation
- Wade
It was beautiful and warm here yesterday. More of the same today, and then snow tomorrow. Blah. Oh well, it won't stay long.
As I waited for my bus and sunned myself, I couldn't help thinking of Madison, Wisconsin. Jason attended the University of Wisconsin at Madison for... gosh.. two years or so? I remember one of my first phone conversations after he transferred-- he told me that wadE and I needed to come to Madison, and soon. Jason had just spent his first night on State Street and was desparate to share.
State Street, early.
It took a while, but wadE and I eventually made the trek on a warm March day in 1999. The 4-hour drive was almost unbearable, but only that first time. On all subsequent trips, though, the drive was an exercise of controlled anticipation. After our initial trip, we knew how good of a time we were in for so the drive... just wasn't so bad.
Each trip had basically the same script. We'd drop our bags off in Jason's room while trying to got get cornered by either of his housemates, Danno and... Danno. (Not quite sure on that second Danno, but it was something like that.) Around six we'd begin the walk to State Street. It was about six blocks from Jason's place, a pleasant enough walk in the summertime. The evening would always begin at Uno's Pizzeria, almost calmly you could argue. Well, the fajita pizza was calm; the whalebone Long Islands that accompanied the pizza were a bit more, uh, flashy.
After leaving Uno's, all hell generally broke loose. But gradually. We played pool at The Pub. Threw some money in the juke box, always making sure to play enough Dave Matthews Band and Soul Coughing to fulfill our musical needs. Jason was good at pool, I sucked. So it was a nice balance. And a round of Jack & Cokes, barkeep. To let you in on a little secret... people in Wisconsin drink. A lot. Especially a college town like Madison. Now-- you'd think that bars, knowing this, would water down their drinks since people will be likely drinking all night regardless. But that's actually the opposite of what's done. The Pub offered the most friendly pours out of anywhere I've been prior or since.
Which gives you a sense of the rest of the evening. We'd go to Monday's and take in a little baseball, throw more cash into the juke. Once we got our sufficient drink on... we'd actually leave State Street for Brothers. And the dance party would truly begin. You ever had a couple of drinks, got out on the dance floor, and felt like you were money even though you were dancing like your Uncle Ed at your cousin's wedding? Well, we actually were money. People would point at us from afar, obviously impressed by our rhythm and overall dancing skillz.
That is what they were whispering about, right?
State Street, late.
Like all good things, the night eventually came to an end. We'd stumble back to Jason's, noting things as we walked. Oh, passed out people in the lawn. Ah, broken glass. Oooh, a flipped-over car. On weekend nights, State Street turned into a war zone. We'd pass out, wake up 10 hours later and hit the Ponderosa for lunch. Has the sight of jello ever made you want to throw up? If so, you've probably been to Madison.
And if not, I'd recommend you go. Soon.
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