In my memory, there's a moment when we're sitting alone at The Owlery in the window booth overlooking the square. It's the first time that I realize how cheap a pitcher of PBR is, and of course it's you who pointed it out to me when you suggest it as our next round.
This must be summer, because the sun hasn't left, but we've been hanging out "all" evening. The summer's long sun makes it feel like we're granted two evenings a day. Some of my best memories are spending such evenings together. The kind where you don't want the evening to become night.
One such happened for me in the summer of 2019. Serendipitously both of us happen to be free enough to see each other. We end up at a non-descript, plain office space where someone is throwing a pre art-walk party. There's iced bottles of wine in styrofoam, and there is cheese and meats from Fresh Thyme. I'm sipping kombucha out of one of those giant glass bottles and you find this hilarious. Before we leave for the art I decide I want to pour some beer into the bottle so that I can drink in public.
"Yo, I'm dead!" you say cracking up. You begin calling me Kombucha Boy. "yo Kombucha Boy, give me some bars!"
After looking at art and running into people we know through people we kind of know we end up at the Owlery. I don't know half the people at the table, but I'm already imagining us all becoming a friend circle together. Things felt special. I still look back fondly at this apex point: that night you kept calling me Kombucha Boy and told me to pose like this or that holding my bottle. That night I met all these random people who would become my local friends.
With you, I've never felt rushed. I never felt like I had to see you quickly. With some people I am anxious to share some good news or something with them to prove myself. It's hard to explain. But with you, I always knew the next time we linked up was going to be so much fun, that I would come out of it feeling so supported. So championed. Feeling like the dopest mother fucker. That's the kind of dude you were. Such feel-good guarantees awaiting left a warm spot in my heart for you, like I knew I could always come to you.
But what happens when you know you can always go to someone? When you know their hands are always open? Often I don't go. I've recognized this in the past month. To me, you've always symbolized the bloom. Opportunities and dreams. No matter how rough the winter, there was something good coming. Something to be grateful for. Just like that one evening in the summer with all those people, you've always been a sign of good things to come for me. I never would've thought of death coming so soon. I just never though of grim and Oscar in the same sentence.
Some time after that summer evening, your mom and pop come to the Owlery for brunch with us. Trisha was there too! After that brunch everything made so much sense. I finally found the source of a lot of Oscar's swag. Your fam treats us and we smile about how the next time Trisha and I will be the ones treating ya'll. I remember your mom talking about how Time Square during New Years Eve stinks and we all laugh.
Trisha and I leave talking about how we can't wait to see your parents again. We talk about how boss your mom is and how gentle your pop is. I remember you texting me "my parents said you good people." I don't know why but that made me feel good. You were always making me feel good.
Maybe that's why we hung out more during my darkest days. Back when I needed that good feeling. I guess once my days became brighter I stopped needing so much of that championing. The Oscar talks that made me feel like a GOAT. I was in a good place, gaining clarity of where I was going. And I only assumed that you were feeling the same way.
I hope you were, man. I hope you were, bro. I can only hope because now it's too late for me to reach out.
-Kombucha Boy
This must be summer, because the sun hasn't left, but we've been hanging out "all" evening. The summer's long sun makes it feel like we're granted two evenings a day. Some of my best memories are spending such evenings together. The kind where you don't want the evening to become night.
One such happened for me in the summer of 2019. Serendipitously both of us happen to be free enough to see each other. We end up at a non-descript, plain office space where someone is throwing a pre art-walk party. There's iced bottles of wine in styrofoam, and there is cheese and meats from Fresh Thyme. I'm sipping kombucha out of one of those giant glass bottles and you find this hilarious. Before we leave for the art I decide I want to pour some beer into the bottle so that I can drink in public.
"Yo, I'm dead!" you say cracking up. You begin calling me Kombucha Boy. "yo Kombucha Boy, give me some bars!"
After looking at art and running into people we know through people we kind of know we end up at the Owlery. I don't know half the people at the table, but I'm already imagining us all becoming a friend circle together. Things felt special. I still look back fondly at this apex point: that night you kept calling me Kombucha Boy and told me to pose like this or that holding my bottle. That night I met all these random people who would become my local friends.
With you, I've never felt rushed. I never felt like I had to see you quickly. With some people I am anxious to share some good news or something with them to prove myself. It's hard to explain. But with you, I always knew the next time we linked up was going to be so much fun, that I would come out of it feeling so supported. So championed. Feeling like the dopest mother fucker. That's the kind of dude you were. Such feel-good guarantees awaiting left a warm spot in my heart for you, like I knew I could always come to you.
But what happens when you know you can always go to someone? When you know their hands are always open? Often I don't go. I've recognized this in the past month. To me, you've always symbolized the bloom. Opportunities and dreams. No matter how rough the winter, there was something good coming. Something to be grateful for. Just like that one evening in the summer with all those people, you've always been a sign of good things to come for me. I never would've thought of death coming so soon. I just never though of grim and Oscar in the same sentence.
Some time after that summer evening, your mom and pop come to the Owlery for brunch with us. Trisha was there too! After that brunch everything made so much sense. I finally found the source of a lot of Oscar's swag. Your fam treats us and we smile about how the next time Trisha and I will be the ones treating ya'll. I remember your mom talking about how Time Square during New Years Eve stinks and we all laugh.
Trisha and I leave talking about how we can't wait to see your parents again. We talk about how boss your mom is and how gentle your pop is. I remember you texting me "my parents said you good people." I don't know why but that made me feel good. You were always making me feel good.
Maybe that's why we hung out more during my darkest days. Back when I needed that good feeling. I guess once my days became brighter I stopped needing so much of that championing. The Oscar talks that made me feel like a GOAT. I was in a good place, gaining clarity of where I was going. And I only assumed that you were feeling the same way.
I hope you were, man. I hope you were, bro. I can only hope because now it's too late for me to reach out.
-Kombucha Boy