Another downside of the cookout is beer bottles. My friends all like to drink. None of them are alcoholics (that I know of), but when you get fifteen or so people together the old glass bottles start to pile up. Usually after a big party (say, the annual Halloween bash) it's like the Jonestown Massacre the next day. Dozens of glass bottles strewn about the compound, staying where ever they happened to fall after the Kool Aid did them in, waiting for health workers to pile them into ambulances. This is what I was thinking about this morning when I woke up. I was lying in bed kind of dreading coming down and having the easter egg hunt for Sam Adams and Miller Lite bottles.
To my delight, it wasn't that bad at all. This was not what you'd call a wild, out of control party. There are a lot of bottles, but they are for the most part conveniently where the recycling belongs. I didn't have to collect them from random bookshelves, bathrooms, or hidden inside random boxes, shoes or backpacks (not that that generally happens, but you get the idea).
Sometime today though it's going to be time to play "The Town Alcoholic Goes Recycling." This is always a hoot, having a VW full of empties that I pile into the recycling bin six at a time. It always makes me feel conspicuous, like people will be looking at me thinking, "Good Lord, that guy drank sixty beers last night!" I'm sure they aren't, but still.
Last night was also the second Sneakies show. The Sneakies are a newish band; this was only their second show. I saw them at McClafferty's a few weeks ago, but the sound there is terrible. Last night was a 123 night, so you could actually hear the band, which was both rocking and rolling. Now if only they would play on a Saturday so Tracy could go.