DECEMBER 3, 1999: BIRTHDAY
FRIDAY MORNING. I woke up the next morning to the sound of the phone ringing. It was my parents singing Happy Birthday to me. I sat groggy on the edge of the bed, listening to them with a half smile, half hung over grimace on my face. I told them about some of my experiences from the last few days. My dad picked up a second phone to listen to my account of being tear-gassed. It was my birthday, but throughout the day I kept it to myself. It felt like one of those birthdays where there wasn't much to celebrate. Things were different last year at this time. I was still with my girlfriend--we were still together and things hadn't fallen apart between us. I walked slowly down Broadway all the way up to The Deluxe and found almost two hundred rubber pellets. They were everywhere on every block. I noticed a few other people also scanning the ground for riot souvenirs. By now, I had a pretty good collection of riot junk--rubber pellets, rubber bullets, tear gas cartridges, pins from tear gas or concussion grenades, pieces of the black rubber concussion grenade casings, and other bits and pieces of riot detritus. Near Broadway and John, I found pieces of the concussion grenade that was thrown in my direction two nights earlier, along with the rubber pellets that came out of it.
My ex-girlfriend called and offered to take me out to dinner. We met and ate at Hopscotch on 15th. I was filled with things I wanted to say but still didn't know if it was the right time to say them. I listened for hints about what was going on between her and this guy. She told me that it was nothing serious, which made me feel hopeful that there might be a way for us to patch things up in the not too distant future. After dinner, I nervously asked what her plans for the rest of the night were. She said she was going to meet some friends at Charlie's to shoot some pool. I gave her a gift box I had picked up earlier that day. In it, I placed some of my hard-earned riot souvenirs. I felt relieved that she wasn't going to meet the new guy but sad that we weren't going to spend more time together. We walked down to Broadway together and hugged before going our separate ways. I watched as she went into Charlie's and went into Ileen's to have another beer. I was tired from the week's events and wanted to lay down next to her and sleep a contented sleep. Later that night, I sat at the bar in Linda's and nursed a beer, trying not to feel too sorry for myself. I looked up at the clock--only ten minutes left. I decided to go home and go to bed. When I turned the corner at Denny and Broadway, there just fifty feet in front of me was my ex-girlfriend walking and holding hands with her new guy. I realized that she had said she was meeting friends to spare me from being unhappy on my birthday, but my heart sank and I felt weak and non-existent. Since we lived in the same building, there was no choice but to walk slowly behind them. In her free hand was the gift box I had given her. I watched as they went into our building and up to her apartment. I walked slowly down the hall to my own apartment two floors below, put the key in the door, and without turning on the lights or taking anything off except my shoes I fell in a crumpled defeated heap on the bed. Not much of a birthday, but quite a week.