Mitch

Years ago, maybe 1983 or so, I was with a friend of mine named Tony. We went to some guy’s house; I think his name was Mitch. We went late. Knocked on his door, he opened in some silk shorts and a Japanese robe. The place was dark and he was blasting the Changesonebowie album. At this point I had owned, almost, everything Bowie had ever released, but somehow this release flew under my radar. That night hearing Bowie echoing through this huge home reminded me of hymns being played in a chapel.

When I say the place was dark, I mean no lights were on, except those from the appliances and the stereo. It gave off an eerie vibe.

I didn’t know Mitch, but the first thing out of his mouth was, “Want some blow?” I said, “No thanks.” Then he asked, “Want some sushi?” I was a little green, I didn’t know what sushi was and I didn’t want to seem stupid, so I didn’t ask.

At one point I remember getting hungry, and I while Mitch and Tony spoke I hunted down the kitchen, it was bare. I finally scrounged up a box of croutons. I finished half the box and went back to the conversation.

It was like a scene out of Less Than Zero, huge house, big money and no parents.

The next day I bought Changesonebowie.

#michaelessington #bornfrustrated

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