Café to Nowhere

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Lucas stumbled in groggily into the kitchen, thinking nothing of anything, just blankly bumping into this & that — any kind of way to open up the fridge & grab cereal & a bowl of milk in his morning daze. He fidgeted around to find a pack of cigarettes in his pocket — a fresh pack, which he dutifully packed by banging the back of the pack into the pocket of his hand, undoing the plastic lining on top & removing the inner covering, leaving the cellophane on the package.

He quickly tossed his bleach blonde hair away from his eyes, then stepped onto the balcony to admire & appreciate the sunrise & a nice morning smoke to go along with the backdrop of the lake — pearly blue water rippling, trees brimming along the sides of the cabin. He lit up a smoke, being sure to close the patio door before any smoke lingered in. Shortly thereafter, Kelly — his longtime roommate — stepped out & lit up a cigarette alongside of him, just in case he might need a bit of company on a wonderfully & mildly serene morning.

She gazed over at his lonely eyes as he leaned over the balcony railing looking out at the view, knowing he pretty much was caught up, thinking about his Sally again. Or should I say, not his. He looked up — the sun bright in his eyes — taking a drag, kind of mumbling something about this & that & Kelly offhandedly just smiled in his direction, kind of at his innocence & hopeless romantic notions, which left him feeling more abandoned than loved.

She sort of accidentally laughed out loud & he snarled back jokingly, “who do you think you’re laughing at?” Kelly just responded with a lazy, sun kissed grin on her face, “oh, you, of course, the way you carry yourself. I could tell you’re still tore up inside wanting to be with her.” By her, she meant Sally.

“Well… of course.” He sighed, shaking a bit in cold morning air, still comfortably sipping a refined, smooth, slow sip of his coffee & equally refined, relieving, albeit quickly impulsive drag off of his Marlboro. These two roommates — best friends, might I add — tossed occasional subtly subdued & sweet glances each other’s way. Lucas continued, not really at all impressed with his own comment, looking again at Kelly — hand flitting about slightly with her hair, flipping a page of her magazine. Safe to say, she wasn’t too in the mood to hear about this predicament.

Oh, Lucas & his girl problems, she thought & smiled his way, wholeheartedly knowing this longing emotion he felt wasn’t really even his fault. She sympathetically crossed her legs, tugging unamused, yet still cutely at her sweater sleeves. She politely looked up from her magazine. Still early in the morning, she too felt a tiny bit cold, even forlorn. Something deep within her — some intense emotion, some delicate feelings — tugged away, also at her, even though she also still felt quite sleepy, still attempting to keep herself awake & warm enough, sipping her coffee & pulling sweet little drags in ways even more relaxed, refined & cutely than Lucas.

Lucas, rather dejectedly, went on, “I guess, right? I mean, she’s so cute & kind of funny in an endearing kind of way.”“Well…” Kelly responded, “she’s not remotely funny, to me at least, but her little smirk & giggles at your little snide remarks is cute & you two do seem to have a spark, which is the most important thing.”“Well, the spark really is important, but I can’t find the courage to ask her out.”

Lucas duly noted & shyly pointed out, “especially since she’d probably say no, obviously… because she’s been so wrapped up in Robbie for the past three years.” Kelly knew just as much as Lucas how much this affected him. Lucas contemplated this, probably attempting to process his feelings & affections. He had previously been staring down at the ground beneath himself — his soft shadow looming as his skin glistened gently, sun still light & bright against his bleached blonde hair. His eyes glowed beautifully some type of way. His hands insecurely, yet snugly reached into the confines of his pockets — the warmth, a place to rest his idle hands — with a look of longing sadness cast in his expression.

He looked up again at Kelly — sun bright against his face, shining out over the whole balcony, especially adding an attractive highlight to Kelly’s look, a shimmering quality in her eyes, her smile, her long flowing brunette — almost auburn — hair. Lucas smiled as he looked her way, now kind of more focused on Kelly’s eyes, a feminine sensitivity coming up delicately within his being, as well as hers.

“Damn,” he observed as he noticed Kelly again opening up her magazine, back to her idly ideal morning reading pursuit. She placed her lighter & a tube of lipstick that had been sitting out back in her purse. Lucas seemed to mellow a bit. He looked out at the lakeside view. He was caught up, clearly still all too lightly absorbed in his own life, mind, feelings & overall emotions. He wanted to wrap up his original thoughts, which chipped away at his heart.

Lucas could never really come to terms with some feeling deep inside, but he didn’t know exactly which one. “Every time I see them talking at the café, my insides tangle in that awful sort of way… my heart can’t take it. Then she looks at me & my heart leaps back up a bit.”Kelly just smirked a little more, “you’re such an idealist. It’s not like she’s the only girl who could sweep you off your feet. Don’t get all caught up… yup, that’s my only piece of advice: Don’t get caught up. Don’t let her feelings determine yours.”

Well, nonetheless, Lucas badly needed to get over Sally — especially because of the aforementioned Robbie — but he wasn’t going to do it by sitting around, drinking coffee & smoking cigarettes on the balcony all day. At this point, his & Kelly’s morning cigarette routine seemed a pretty good place to start.

Lucas sat down on one of the balcony recliner chairs, opening up an interesting novel about hobos in Japan & began reading it — thoroughly enjoying the distraction — while Kelly flipped through some arduous pop culture magazine… just anything to dive away from real life into the world of ridiculous celebrity drama & vaguely true gossip — an escapist pleasure to the fullest degree.

Together, they smoked four more fresh Marlboro 27s. At the end of their morning smoke & early readings, they proceeded to return inside of the crib to settle down, read some more & brew another fresh pot of coffee. In a daze, they got up, slid open the balcony door, sliding their hapless souls into the house, each promising each other that soon they’d quit their addictions. Yet another day spun on & their cigarette habit inevitably endured another day.

“Bruh, where the fuck is my phone?” Lucas chirped to Kelly once they got inside, in the way an annoyed pessimist would. Kelly was a little too aware of what he had just said. “Bruh, don’t call me bruh Lucas… you know I don’t like shit like that or ‘bro’ or ‘dude’. And ‘bruh’… I have no fucking clue where your phone is. Why do you need your phone anyway?”

Lucas leveled with her, expressing, “I need it to call my lawyer & get me off of those vandalism charges down at the church. One rowdy night with the boys & they want to call that a crime.”

“Well it wasn’t like pretty graffiti or like the Mona Lisa or some Van Gogh ear-off-of-your-head type shit. It was a stupid picture of a Yin Yang symbol & weird cartoonish guy drinking a 40 on the door of a Catholic Church. I don’t think the Bible talks about Buddhism at all… or Super Mario type cartoon goons.”

Lucas laughed. Remembering the night vividly. He playfully reminded his lovely roomie, “the only way you’d know is through osmosis, since you haven’t read the Bible a day in your life… I’m a Zen Catholic myself. Fuck, they should etch a little Yin Yang symbol in each & every Eucharist, the body of Christ, the spirituality of the Buddha (cracking up mostly to himself at this point). And why do you think that was a 40? Could have been a glass of holy water.”

Kelly snarked, “with you, it’s always a 40, you drunkard…” Kelly laughed. “Anyways, you got to show up to court or something like that?”

Lucas said in the most nonchalant way possible, the way he always was about both important & non important things, “nah, my lawyer just had me sign a few papers, stating I was guilty. Since I’m confessing prior to the court date, the judge just fined me a measly 400$ & said I have to complete 20 hours of community service at the church. Hey Kelly, how about you tag along with me to the city today. We can tag another church. Well,” laughing more to himself in his deprecating way, “maybe just not a Catholic Church this time, it’s played out. How about the Jewish Synagogue on 44th?”

“How about if we just play it by ear… I’m down to go to the café & record store downtown. I want a Sinatra record & a scone.”“Perfect, it’s a date,” Lucas concluded.

And it really was a date & day they had planned, but platonically of course… But you’d never know the two of them weren’t boyfriend & girlfriend with how similar they were & the way they were always laughing & doing things together. Plus, Kelly’s ears & literally her whole energy always perked up every time when Lucas said his usual phrase — “Perfect, it’s a date.” He said this whenever they planned on running around & acting goofy all day.

In reality & oh so secretly, Kelly had the biggest crush on Lucas. It was tough. She had to control herself & keep these feelings hidden. He liked Sally. As a result, Kelly downplayed her affections, always trying to be a bro to Lucas so that he wouldn’t run away at more obvious advances. After all, she didn’t want to seem desperate. Timing was everything. He’d come around, at least eventually. Her mother had once told her, “honey, expect the worst. Hope for the best.” This was a common phrase, but Kelly always held onto the sentiment. Of course, she prepared herself for a let down. At the end of the day, Kelly imagined & hoped that Lucas would someday fall in love with her.

She didn’t want to lose him. She felt this incredibly too heavily due to a fear of abandonment that started to drag her down after her ex — the other love in her life — passed away when she & him were just 16. She never dated since, the only person being worthy to date after being Lucas. She & her ex were in a bad car accident… really. So bad. He was driving… she was in the passenger seat. She was the only one wearing a seatbelt.

After all, it was one of those old fashioned cars where the seat belts seemed more optional than anything, the old leather ripping, the wide dash, everything cheap and heavy. He went through the front windshield. She hung on & just broke an arm. The air bag was nonexistent. He was dead on arrival. She was too — on emotional terms, not physically — as they planned to get married after high school. Now, he was gone… just gone. Maybe he was around in some way, her lifelong partner & angelic counterpart in the afterlife.

Kelly strapped in for another ride downtown — this time Lucas driving — along the same dreaded worn out & treaded old roads she & her ex used to drive on. One of them was the same road they crashed on. She felt the same warm fuzzy feelings towards Lucas as to her ex — deeply hidden of course, but the same feelings. Lucas really was her best friend. I mean… fuck Sally. No one could stand losing Lucas in quite the same way in which Kelly couldn’t. She couldn’t bear that kind of reality — one without the light of their bond. Kelly sat in the passenger seat, playing with her necklace & hair, Lucas driving with one hand on the wheel.

They were close. The only time that they ever fooled around, though, he was too drunk to care. He always forgot it all the following morning… the previous night’s addictive pulling at one another’s shirt — lips inseparable — a distant blur; obvious attractions between Lucas & Kelly obvious at least to everyone, except Lucas himself.

They may have semi-recently shown up at a party with a 6 pack & handle of vodka. Mainly, they just stuck together, smoking cigarettes outside with the other degenerates — hiding away from any social exchanges of any meaning, buying a bag or two of who-knows-what drugs, blasting rap music in Lucas’ old Jeep Cherokee, making out. Lucas wasn’t sober enough to think about what that night meant for their relationship. They got as high as possible away from the chaos in the house party.

On that fateful night, with Kelly’s guard completely down, she gazed over at Lucas — shoulders slumped & a strawberry blush to her cheeks. Kelly viewed Lucas with the most amorous gaze, half drunkenly and lovingly looking into his soul, fumbling over the seat to bite his bottom lip and kissing his neck like there was no tomorrow.

And there really wasn’t because, every time after these drunken house party exchanges, Kelly knew Lucas wouldn’t remember a thing, but she remembered everything, always pretending to be more drunk than she really was and only fumbling over the car seat because she wanted him so bad. Lucas just did it because he was drunk and it was something to do, whereas Kelly wanted him with all of her heart, always instigating the drunk make outs… always finding Lucas even cuter when he was fucked up beyond meaning.

She really would’ve gone anywhere with him & today, on their drive downtown, she looked over at Lucas idly driving, cars buzzing by the opposite direction, playing with her hair. She saw in him something she’d seen so many times before, when she was looking at her ex… it was a certain vibe & character trait that she couldn’t put a finger on. But she realized that she wanted to be with Lucas for the rest of her life. She just had to somehow win his affection away from fucking Sally when he was sober, not just in a casual drunk make out sesh. She had to win his heart for real. She had played it off for too long & she could lay low for a little while longer.

At some point, the words “I love you for real Lucas, like wanna-be-with-you-love-you” would surely fall off of her lips. But for now, they voyaged on, Lucas unaware of the affectionate glances Kelly was secretly throwing his way as he drove one handed towards the cafe, the one where Sally worked, the café Kelly hoped she wasn’t working at today even though, likely, that was a major reason Lucas wanted to go.

Lucas turned a corner, made another left & pulled up to the café in his usual white Cherokee, the car he’d had for 6 years & counting. He always liked things that were familiar, bought the same brand of clothing & food… same brand of cigarettes, same familiar routines, same old friends & the same old dusty records. All of the things that he despised were new & fairly pretentious. He mainly just hated phones — the way people used them as if they were more necessary than simple conversation or books or even people themselves. The way he looked at it, someone could be so preoccupied… they’re calling people to meet up, talking for half an hour on their phone, then — when the person shows up — they are texting another person, looking at constant social media material online. Their own existence sums up to the little rectangle box in front of them — existence numbed down to what’s on their phone — leaving little room to survey the world itself… people essentially becoming desensitized to their eminent surroundings.

Especially considering the fact that Lucas complained about losing his phone earlier, he himself knew how easy it was to rely on something that wasn’t even around 30 some years ago. He basically just wanted the pre-iPhone 90s back. Lucas always wore denim, listening to old Elliot Smith & Gang Starr albums on his Walkman, reading Bukowski & sipping coffee from a café that had actually been there since the 1990s. He constantly left his phone behind at the house, just carrying some cash & a book as he drove to the café… as he did this time with Kelly. He had already called his lawyer and signed the necessary papers, paying the fee for his vandalism charges & promised that he’d volunteer at the local library as the extent of his community service work.

The café they always went to had the oddest little name, Café to Nowhere — been there since 1994… The owner — a Mr. Joey Duds — always had different answers for why the café had been so named… mostly because he loved entertaining the different guesses of guests as to the name, leaving the esteemed establishment’s name more a mystery of intrigue than anything.

If Kelly & Lucas had any sort of guess at it, they’d say it’s because, in their case, a coffee is the first thing you do when you get up & it leads to nowhere, a day spent chatting with friends consistently downing more pots of coffee, eventually occasionally having a night cap coffee to tuck you in warmly on cool nights. In essence, they believed Café to Nowhere was called as such because there was nowhere to go after the café — the coffee was so good that you’d stay until the shop was closing & they kicked you out. Even then they didn’t close till 10 p.m. — with all of the businessmen who needed a red eye coffee for their red eye flights late at night.

The café even served alcohol Friday through Sunday, after 4 pm so it really was the only place Lucas and Kelly hung out on weekends. Then, after getting kicked out because of closing time, they’d all head to the one or two house parties happening every weekend down the road. And the café was not just a café with a liquor license. Attached was a quaint room, with about 200 records, CDs & cassette tapes to choose from. A new age system with a U-Turn Audio Record Player was connected to a big Audio Engine subwoofer & two smaller Audio Engine speakers. Guests could lift the needle & play any record they’d like as soothing accompaniment to their coffee.

Sure, people would spill coffee in the music room or a novice would scratch a record & a local record snob would sneer at them, but Joey Duds never minded a broken record or little spill, adding to its charm, & naturally necessitating that people were careful with the records in the music room. People sometimes argued long & hard the best genres — what makes a true collection… Whether jazz has any relevance to today’s culture, whether metal is the new hip hop & hip hop the new punk & punk the new emo & emo the new goth & hyper pop the new pop & indie the new alternative — any sort of conversation about this cover or that, any sort of way to defend their taste in music, as people always do. Duds always had a fresh collection for both the old heads & modern kooks. The barista girls always made the best coffee, from mochas to cappuccinos to a classic drip or french press. And Joey Duds’ locally famous shop Café to Nowhere undoubtedly was the best place to start your day or end it in town.

Kelly went over to the counter, ordered a scone as she previously insisted on & an iced coffee, Lucas a hot drip black coffee, no creamer & coffee cake. Funny… it always seemed guys wanted hot drip & girls wanted anything cold, iced, or blended. Kelly paid the tab, observantly noting that Lucas had paid for their stupid drugs, liquor & cigarettes over the past few weeks, fueling a light bender so it seemed for the two of them. Because Lucas fueled the bender, Kelly even offered to buy him a record, already sliding two 20s over the counter, telling Duds to keep the extra cash as tip. They wandered over to the music room & Kelly found the record she wanted so badly. It was ‘In The Wee Small Hours’, a classic by Sinatra. Lucas thumbed through different hip hop & punk records, deciding on ‘Aquemini’ by Outkast, another hit laden tape by the Atlanta rap duo, both a cassette as well as a record of their esteemed & culturally profound masterpiece of the late 1990s, 1998 to be concrete. Kelly never understood how he could buy hip hop on vinyl. She thought the best sound on records came from vinyls in the 50s to 70s.

Unwavering, however, Lucas defended his taste… not by saying anything, but by lifting the record table needle. He removed the vinyl from the inner sleeve (upon taking the plastic off after Kelly paid for the record, of course). Lucas gently slid the infinitesimal needle back on the edge of the record, which to both Kelly’s & Lucas’ surprise was evidently a collector’s edition colored vinyl (a tie dyed pattern of purple, black & white). Before Kelly could say anything about her opinion as to why hip hop should not be played in a small café & that it should be reserved for benders & drunken Cherokee excursions, Aquemini’s Intro, ‘Hold On Be Strong’, came on with a thumping bass in the café. To Kelly’s surprise, it fit the mood of the current day completely. As the whole record played, it became the day’s anthem — as niche tunes usually seem to become. Every day, they got a new song stuck in their head to sing in aisles in super markets & in showers & on car rides downtown. Today, their song was ‘Da Art of Storytelling (parts 1 & 2)’ by Outkast. They played that part of the record till they tired of it & kept playing it so much after tiring of it, that they didn’t even tire of it anymore. They just couldn’t get enough of the sound.

From then on, Kelly made a promise to herself she’d look more into 90s hip hop & deviate a little from the accustomed norm of 50s & 60s & 70s pop, folk & singer songwriter shit. Lucas told her to check out A Tribe Called Quest, Nas, 2Pac, Souls of Mischief & Gang Starr. Lucas was fully into hip hop, even though he was just a skinny, bleach blonde haired white boy. He still kind of dressed like a thug, always in baggy jeans & crew necks, with a beanie on, his usual look. He either geeked out to punk or hip hop — anything 90s — even some singer-songwriter grunge vibes found within the likes of Jeff Buckley, Elliot Smith as aforementioned, Pavement, Sonic Youth & Nirvana. Lucas considered himself to be a music expert. But, since he was always listening to music, he was a little desensitized. Meanwhile, Kelly was always dancing like she’d never heard music ever so perfect. Lucas thought that was such a cute trait of Kelly’s — her dancing — when her eyes widened & she made Lucas dance with her. The way she vibed to all of his music so much, he really did love that.

In a matter of moments, Lucas contemplated a half hazard attempt at a meaningless dance with Kelly to a worn out Outkast gem, their second favorite of the day, a jam known as ‘Slump’. Equipped with a light thimble of a tack & polite utterance, one of the kind patrons of the renowned café almost overtly thanked the cute barista girl for his wonderful mocha. All of a sudden — no one in line awaiting a coffee currently — rain started slightly tip tapping & putter pitter pattering like steel brushes patting tin drums on the roof at the café. The current hip, slightly scruffy crowd currently in the store that morning simultaneously & instantaneously all gazed out the window longingly with a content jovial glee in their demeanor. The forlorn crowd outside the ashy driftwood windowsill quickly and efficiently begin to ash out their last cigarette — dampened, it was the last now. They scuffled into the café. Rain started coming down thick and rowdy — a gloppy, thick dripping pour, thundering hard rainfall. Slapping in autumn, it fell on the sunken tobacco moleskin brown windowsill in late October.

“An extra cup of free steaming, hot medium roast drip coffee to everyone who bought merchandise or anything from the music collection today, on the house & free of charge as well to anyone who purchases a shirt, hoodie, hat, beanie, record, CD, or cassette now…” Joey Duds proudly exclaimed warm heartedly. He softly yet assertively enjoyed the interest of both economic bartering, social commerce, creative recreation, useful and necessary materialism, public benefit & most importantly, community development.

It was a continual communal bond between patron saint, barista endearment & brand loyalty. Maybe, to some, it greedily could be construed to a near fault. Instead, though, his sales discount was successfully & beautifully orchestrated & initiated as the rain fell. The weather imbued autumn slush — October splash just in time for the spooky season. I guess that’s the name people use in reference of mucky days in Fall. Halloween was less than a mere week’s wait away. The crowd laughed as the baby infant crooned, grooved & vibed at the end of the jazzy hip hop tune. And don’t even get Lucas started on how much they bumped, bounced & bopped to the 3rd anthem ‘Rosa Parks’.

As the imagery sinks in, pretend you the reader are sitting in Café to Nowhere on a dismally gloomy & yet such an abundantly cozy day as you enjoy a nice drip coffee, on the house, no less. You listen to the Outkast tape or ‘In the Wee Small Hours’ vinyl you just bought, drifting off candidly sipping your warm roasted coffee… made by no other than Mr. Joey Duds — brewed by the owner himself… extravagance and luxury cultivated & defined in the finest sense. Or, at least, I love to think of coffee on rainy days as the highest form of extravagance & luxury… though also merely a necessity at this point as well. But let’s not lose track. So, without further to say about this or that, let us return again to the story, on that fateful week in October — more Specifically October 24th, 2024 — marking the 30th anniversary of the award winning coffee and record store — a one stop shop… a little place that we like to call Café to Nowhere.

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Some days, Lucas wakes up & everything in life resembles a fog. He goes over to his stereo system & presses the eject button, taking out Outkast’s ‘Aquemini’ cassette tape and inserts ‘Obscured by Clouds’ by Pink Floyd, as the lovely town of Camden, Sierra & Café to Nowhere a couple blocks down the road shields itself in blanketing overcast. Often times, he sits with albums for days at a time, staring at all of the posters in his room, opening up a book about anything & everything. He promised himself he’d replay the album consistently throughout the day, now slowly opening his eyes, beginning his morning meditations, focusing on his breath, in his messy slept-in comforter, the album coming through crisply on his vintage, heavily used stereo system littered almost entirely with stickers.

Lucas stared at his book collection, sitting comfortably and relaxed now upon finishing his morning meditations, dressed in cozy sweats covered by an oversized hoodie, his vans & slippers in the corner of the room. Some were little scraps of poetry assembled into collections. Others were interesting pieces of fiction. Along with the Pink Floyd tape currently playing in the background, Lucas also had almost as many records, CDs & cassette tapes as the entire collection down at the café. He loved how albums possessed a whole story, concept & underlying meaning interweaving on each record.

Lucas had poetry & fiction novels on his book shelf — surely containing thousands upon thousands of words. He had tangible analog sounding collectors items, filled with intricacies in tone & texture & definitive effects. He wondered about the true actual worth of an album. The entirely felt impact of analog CDs was definitively limitless.

Lucas adored the idea of being able to hold a tangible analog copy of something so near & dear to his heart. He saw how specific CDs related differently to specific times in his life. CDs reminded him of the beauty within individual moments. The CDs he loved the most were the ones that related deeply to crucial moments defining our way of life. The best albums captured moments in time.

Lucas got up out of bed, a little too quickly, making his eyes blur up a bit due to lack of blood flow with respect to his lanky figure, his thin physique. He rubbed his eyes & walked over nearly mindlessly to the bathroom door, a mere few steps away within the petite quarters of his lakeside cabin room. All of the walls within his little loft-like dwelling consisted of mahogany wood chipped material. His floors were carpet, with exception to the delicate tile within the bathroom.

Sometimes, Lucas cursed to himself at the carpet floors because, though cozy on his bare feet, he often made the mistake of carrying coffee around from place to place within the confines of his room, lackadaisically, thus at times staining the previously neat carpet he compulsively kept so vigilant about diligently making sure to avoid ruining, priding himself on taking care of his interior surroundings. He always thought how you take care of little minute details, microscopically, as pertains to personal matters, correlated with how broader matters, less in your control, were handled, taken care of & turned out.

Upon briskly shaving his face with a go-to electric razor, left at his standard setting so as to leave just the perfect amount of stubble & brushing his coffee and cigarette stained teeth & gums for approximately two minutes and counting, he twisted the nozzle of his shower, closing both the inner water protector & outer curtain while it warmed up. He went over to his dresser, grabbing attire that suited his mood for the day. Although he was a guy, he probably eagerly paid more attention to details of style than Kelly, potentially caring even more so what people thought about his daily outfit.

Lucas continued to get dressed little by little, the noise on Pink Floyd’s tape coming through so much more definitively and refined, hitting his inner core, tapping into a more universal frequency. He quickly glanced at his full sized mirror tucked away methodically placed to enhance perceptive angles & depth to the room. Sure, he never minded his reflection, but he wasn’t trying to view himself any type of way really either.

Not that he really cared about people viewing him with either approval or acceptance, but he always liked wearing a fit that left an indelible mark on people’s mind as to who Lucas really was, his clothes matching his personality, leaving others with a genuine outward impression of his internal disposition. Today, Lucas grabbed a light grey beanie, woven & knit, as well as a white Tom Petty and the Heartbreaker’s ‘Full Moon Rising’ tee, a grey men’s faux cashmere sweater, loose baby blue denim skater jeans, black half cab vans shoes (standard 10 1/2) & a pair of softly woven Saxx boxer briefs, as well as cheaply dependable Hanes socks, a standard outfit, but also a variation of his usual style he hasn’t rocked in almost a week.

Lucas left all of these selections neatly folded on his bed, his shoes & socks at the foot of his bed. He hoped that he would inevitably come off in his usual grunge, yet basic & edgy & outcast way with intrinsically soft, sublime vibes. He half skipped quickly to the shower, making sure to get in while it was at perfect heat, undressing, throwing his clothes in a nearby laundry basket, sliding into the embracing warmth of the briskly hot, ever flowing water. Lucas took a brisk ten minute shower, never showering for excessive durations. Still, he always made sure to fully clean up nicely & shampoo with that one coconut scented brand he liked so much, also applying moisturizing body wash & the whole works. He got out, a little hurried to dry off in his towel, stumbling over to his bed, soaked blonde hair wet & messy. He maneuvered his clothing atop & loosely falling over his tall, skinny frame, one garment to the next, lastly lacing up his half cab vans and snugly fitting the beanie cozily on his head, a grey knit woven beanie with light strands of hair peaking through in a punk way. Lucas considered adding highlights, a bit of brunette could offset the bleach blonde nicely. He was in equal amounts so unequivocally emo & punk & grunge & so too standard, classic, basic & bougie all at the same time. The Pink Floyd tape was still playing as the soundtrack to the foggy morning routine, closing out on the blissfully sweet sedative-like finale ‘Absolutely Curtains’ adding the finishing touch to ‘Obscured by Clouds’.

Lucas let the tape run, knowing it would come to a full stop at the end of Pink Floyd’s last song. He briskly sauntered on over to the kitchen, feeling fresh after his shower and morning meditations. Their little clock showed it was 10:15 a.m. Kelly had been in a refreshed mood, decorating the house all morning in spooky season Halloween decor, getting fully in the mood for the Holiday, gearing up for October Fest down at the café. October Fest was celebrated by the whole town, usually with copious amounts of binge drinking & live music at the café, as well as a carnival and haunted house downtown on the day of Halloween. Currently, the television at their lake side cabin was playing anything & everything Tim Burton had created. Kelly had been thinking long & hard about who their duo should dress up as for the festivities.

Coming up with mostly dead ends, she enthusiastically perked up a bit upon noticing Lucas’ little appearance in the kitchen, “Hey Lucas, who should we dress up as for Halloween?” Sadly, Lucas was still in a bit of a daze from the therapeutic meditation & shower. He just responded in a matter of fact way, so nonchalant about the holidays, “Oh, damn, Kelly, you know I don’t really care for the idea of stupidly pretending to be someone else. I’ll probably just wear some grungier clothes of mine and say I’m dressed as a bum or something this year.” “What? That’s stupid… and boring. Not that I really mind simple & boring. I like the grunge idea though. I love that whole era of fashion & music, now that you’ve nudged my music appreciation in favor of 90s grunge bands, as well as styles. Well, you are blonde, you should be Cobain for Halloween, you could still dress in a grunge bum minimalist fit, with little worry about finding a costume, with your hair basically like Cobain’s in a more skater boy or surfer way.”

“Alright, yeah, I guess that’ll work, I’d probably just need to find a pair of those goofy, iconic white rimmed sunglasses he always wore & dig through my closet to find a vintage & appropriate flannel for everything going down at the café. But God save me if I wear one of those dreaded Nirvana tees fake fans always seem to wear. Cobain, especially, would never be egotistical & conceited enough to wear a tee so blatantly promoting his band (Lucas, himself idly reflecting on Cobain saying on their Live MTV performance Lucas had on CD, “This is off our first record… most people don’t own it,” in a way that downplayed their musical genius)… so yeah, I guess I’m just going to stick to grunge clothes & try to find a pair of those shades he always wore at one of the thrift stores downtown. Hell, you could be my drummer at October Fest, you know go as Dave Grohl and shit… we’ll both wear the shades if we can find two and flannels, and denim jeans, it’ll be pretty funny, me with semi long blonde hair, that skater boy or surfer hair as you referred to it & you with that long brunette Dave Grohl hair.”

“Hell yeah, well I’m going to wear a Nirvana shirt, as lame as it might be to you Lucas, but for the most part we’re just going to look like grunge kids, I’ll probably have to carry around drum sticks to make my costume more obvious, but I like this idea. It’s fun… we get to dress as dope bandmates, as we basically are little bandmates to each other on a day to day & we don’t have to fuss with a lot more painstaking costume ideas.” Lucas half laughed, thinking about how dope it’d be if Kelly actually knew how to play the drums, casually thinking about how cool it might be to surprise Kelly by getting her a drum set & impromptu lessons for her birthday coming up in November. Drums would be fun to have around the house and, either it would be hilarious to watch her drumming attempts or she’d actually get good at it & be eternally grateful for Lucas hooking her up with the set and first lesson. He made a mental note in his head to consider surprising her on her forthcoming birthday, November 14th.

“Alright”, Lucas had made up his mind, “well, the 31st is right around the corner… Thinking about things, it’s always best to come to October Fest prepared. So let’s make a quick run to the market to load up on booze & cigarettes. I mean, enough to get us through the weekend… as most of this weekend, we’ll be too hungover to go shopping. And while we’re in the area, we can see what they got in store down at Down Bad Thrift.”

“Hell yeah,” Kelly exclaimed, smiling at his get-up-and-go attitude. “Let me just grab a few things & clean up a bit before we leave. The Halloween decorations are perfect, but they also left kind of a whole chaotic mess in my frantic hurry to give our crib some spooky season holiday flair. Just wait until October Fest ends & I prematurely start getting into the spirit of Christmas right out of the gate. You’ll probably be sick of it all by the time December rolls around.”

Lucas chipped & chimed in, “the only thing I’ll be sick of is the music. We’ll probably have to cut a deal to only play Christmas music two hours a day, especially considering the fact you start jamming out to that festive junk about four weeks too early. But, if it’s just for two hours, it wouldn’t bug me at all. In fact the jovial spirit of it all would probably grow on me, so long as you don’t wear out it’s welcome.”

“Alright, it’s a deal… three hours a day.” Kelly laughed as they had already begun shaking upon her saying, ‘it’s a deal’, knowing she upped the hour time to three instead of two hours. Lucas just accepted defeat. “Perfect, three hours sounds ideal,” Lucas gave into his loss, but not without slight begrudging sarcasm. “For the both of us, incredibly so ideal. I can’t wait,” Kelly played in with his sarcastic, sardonic attitude, sounding as chipper as ever on the other hand.

Oak Street Market & Down Bad Thrift were both about 10 miles away. They had made plans to gather up a few food items, and of course drinks & take a peak at Down Bad’s fall clothing and miscellaneous selection. First, Lucas absolutely had to grab a CD for the car ride over. He made a whole point to grab it, wheeling off to the collection in his room — all kept within a vintage crate from the 1940s sitting at the foot of his bed — Kelly couldn’t help but let a chuckle faintly escape her mouth, finding Lucas’ wildly fluctuating & impulsive music needs rather amusing, but not altogether invalidated as his selective taste in music always kept the car rides all that much more interesting. It was a constant worry of Lucas’ that they wouldn’t have the perfect album to appropriately accompany each trip, whether to Down Bad Thrift, Oak Street Market, Café to Nowhere, Camden Lake Beach, or anywhere. Each kind of deviation in their travel plans changed up Lucas’ vibe ever so subtly & slightly, thus garnering the attention of uniquely different CDs custom selected for whatever the particular occasion may be at that given time.

Today, since their trip involved going to the thrift store, Lucas felt like the Cobain album he had just been pondering, Nirvana’s 25th Anniversary Edition of ‘MTV Unplugged in New York’, would be the perfect entertainment for their trip.

He ever so deftly unlocked the crate, adeptly grabbing his CD Collection in the corner nook & began flipping through the discs until he came across the heavily played ‘MTV Unplugged’ one with Kurt in his thrift shop styled grunge green sweater. By far, his favorite songs, which he looked forward to on the ride over to thrift a bit, were ‘About A Girl’, ‘Jesus Doesn’t Want Me For A Sunbeam’ & ‘All Apologies’.

Kelly grabbed her purse, applying quick, hurried touches to her hair, tossing it a bit to give it that cute, but laidback look. They headed out happily & contentedly to the Cherokee. Lucas swung around to Kelly’s side, politely opening up the door for her, “Ladies first, of course.” “Why, thank you, my kind sir,” she replied back, tipping an imaginary cap towards him. He laughed, mumbling how it was nothing, that he just wanted to get her in a good mood for the ride over to Down Bad Thrift listening to Cobain live on the ‘MTV Unplugged’ CD. “I knew chivalry wasn’t dead, Lucas… oh, thank God.” “Kelly, chivalry…” Lucas was quick to remark on the subject, having supposedly full wits about himself on this lovely day after a much needed shower and meditations.

“…Chivalry is only dead because it is almost more impolite to open up doors for women these days, if you don’t pick the girl you’re opening up the door for properly. Girls in the new generation seemingly think it’s a bit demeaning, almost that we as men imply they can’t open up doors themselves.”

“Oh, thanks for ‘mansplaining’ homie. Lucas, God, I knew that much at least… you opening the door was actually so sweet. The only fault lay in the fact that you felt it necessary to explain to me why chivalry is dead. I’m all too aware so many conceited, so called woman these days are just stupid, quick to assume & can’t see a kind gesture for what it is.” Kelly felt a bit insulted. She still was able to stay cavalier & nonchalant.

Lucas apologized. He had inadvertently approached the whole ‘chivalry’ topic too bluntly. Bluntness & not seeing a bigger picture was a persistent shortcoming. He again made a snap judgment prematurely. His way of speaking about matters beyond his own breadth of knowledge from truly lived out experience sometimes occurred due to haughtily overestimating himself & disregarding struggles commonly shared by all living beings — how personal & profound this harsh reality (i.e. for women).

Lucas at times came off a bit narcissistic, even though he wasn’t. He was, however, kind of self involved at times. He was still slowly learning to come to terms with occasionally uncomfortable, seemingly all too unearned privileges he didn’t even necessarily covet, as a result of being a young attractive white male in this society.

Kelly just sat with her hands in her lap, slightly annoyed, but she really could care less. She was touching up her makeup, having pulled down the little mirror above where she sat passenger side. She ran her hands through her hair & put the mirror back. She couldn’t wait for the trip & ride.

Lucas still felt bad. He felt like he had to reconcile his original thought process. “Damn, alright. Sometimes I explain things to girls. Damn, always with that… I’m sorry. I mean women. Sometimes I explain things to women a bit prematurely, not even paying attention really to what I’m saying. You know how ADHD & unfocused I am at times. I really do want to say the proper thing at all times. I’m not really necessarily wishing to be more politically correct. I’m always just so caught up in bigger problems actually incredibly completely out of my control… damn, I really hope Sally & Robbie break up. Do you ever think they could?”

Oh my God. Kelly knew when Lucas got like this, he would never shut up. He would get wound up & just blurt out inane & all too insincere, insecure & atypically the most insensitive & oblivious bullshit ever. Kelly might as well just grab a cigarette from the pack in her purse & just hand it his way. He really just needed to relax a bit. He got too over analytical & critical of himself. Badly, he needed a quick pick-me-up. She pulled out a cigarette for herself & extended another his direction. Lucas quickly snatched it. Really, there was nothing he needed more than a drag. He inhaled & his demeanor so immediately mellowed out. He looked at her with an indebted sigh of relief. He took 2 more drags. And another.

Kelly laughed, almost with ‘just a hint’ of jealous insecurity or maybe detachment at the Sally detail, not that Lucas ever noticed that sort of thing. She hated when he obsessed with the wrong things. She unintentionally rolled her eyes, looking out the window opposite of the boy’s direction, whom she loved so much. It must be ADHD.

Lucas now eagerly & carefully opened the Nirvana CD in the front seat next to Kelly after smoking his much needed & soothing cigarette & more optimistically slid briskly out of the car. He walked in front of the car & opened the hood to briefly check the oil & engine & then continued to the trunk, placing Nirvana’s ‘MTV Unplugged’ disc into the Cherokee’s 6-Disc-CD-Changer. He hopped back in the driver’s seat. Smiling Kelly’s way, he breathed deeply in & out. He reached in his pockets for one last smoke & of course, the keys. “Sorry about all of that.”

Kelly couldn’t help but remember that first day driving with him… ever. This all took place before she opened up one drunken, revealing night after a few weeks of getting to know each other when she finally let loose, tears all over — pouring — about the car accident that took the life of her former love back in 2014 on incredibly icy roads. 

But before telling him about the 2014 car crash, she noticed that Lucas, oftentimes not concerned on a day to day with most ongoing events around him, was on the other hand so careful about everything within the realm of his aesthetically pleasing vintage car, his minted white Jeep Cherokee. I mean, first of all, as far as impressions go, she could tell he took really good care of his baby (his baby besides hopefully herself, one day, she thought). Everything, she soon inevitably found out, was spotless and in perfect, original condition, the interior and exterior as if the car was brand new, an old Cherokee in 2024 looking as good as it did on the first day out of the shop in 2002. He didn’t buy it then, but was constantly cleaning it, mostly manually at home once a week, and taking it into the shop for upgrades and tune ups almost monthly.

Plus, at the forefront of Kelly’s mind, most importantly, she nostalgically remembered their first drive together, before Lucas knew anything as mentioned about the crash. Yet, he still made sure she had her seat belt on before backing out of the lot, taking off, and driving into the horizon. He wouldn’t shift into gear. Reverse that, he didn’t and wouldn’t even put the keys into the ignition until he could be sure Kelly had her seat belt on… “as being cautious when driving really is key, especially because it kills more people than cigarettes do, number one in the nation as a cause ahead of number two, tobacco products,” Lucas, unknowingly unaware of her specific past, said in passing. Far from upset, used to all of the trauma by now, Kelly was actually just quiet and secretly impressed and pleased Lucas understood just how safe drivers have to be these days. Even the most confident driver can take his mind off of the wheel for four seconds and crash.

She fully, if almost way too deeply, understood that concept to her very core by now. She easily brushed off Lucas’ comment, not yet exposing her story of being a survivor in a crash that took the man she was next to, and had been next to for years. Instead, she just smirked and perked up ever so knowingly and gently, mindfully and dutifully placing the seat belt around her fit yet curvy frame, locking it into the buckle.

That assertive, yet cautious and careful side of Lucas, mixed with playful unconcern to all of the other people seemingly in the world, kind of like a household cat or protective dog of the crib, was the first thing that drew Kelly to this boy who was noticeably, in her eyes, super attractive, which she noticed on the first drive they took together, and remains  to this day even more so all too aware of Lucas’ classic edge and defined jaw and naturally good looks. She wasn’t too bad  on the eyes herself, but she had a refined type of beauty that grew on men over time, not stunning ‘fake’ (she truly believed, typical of the way she viewed most fashion trends) model features like Sally. Honestly, though, the only reason Lucas never really commented on how good Kelly looked on the daily more often, of course even just casually in passing, was because of how accustomed they were of being around one other every single day. It may seem kind of off putting, or misleading at least currently, to just comment on her appearance out of the blue when he had never thought it necessary to tell her what he thought Kelly should already know about herself, “that she’s fucking beautiful,” and (as her best, still fucking straight friend) truly thought any guy lucky enough to have her by his side should forever count his blessings. 

So, as she thought about all of the qualities that held Lucas so near and dear to her, the first song of Nirvana’s ‘MTV Unplugged’ came on through the car’s superb sound system, ‘About A Girl’. It was funny because Lucas just loved having his best friend along for the drive, but Kelly was deep in thought, thinking about him and his car and the whole thing. She was lost in thought, but still she had been cutely aware that the first song was named ‘About a Girl’… she liked Nirvana a lot actually.

Lucas was kind of comical in the way he always wanted so badly to show her a piece of music, paying less attention to the particulars of the CD, just focused on how cool it sounded. She paid more to attention to detail, as women instantly so often do, in addition to multitasking on anything else going on. Lucas just heard the guitars and drums and the overall vibe. Meanwhile, the lyrics hinted to Kelly generally to where Lucas’ mind was at. The feminine side of her kept secret wisdom like that aside to herself as she knew Lucas was more captivated with the tone of the record’s sound than with the underlying feelings the music was attached to, at least in relation to how stoked Lucas had been to show Kelly, of all the people he knew, this specific CD. I mean, she had listened to it a lot a while back, but now his excitement in hearing it, even if for the 100th time, was truly endearing. And the lyrics always ended up hitting Kelly even more profoundly after seeing Lucas so hyped on listening to it.

Of course, the CD could be heavily felt in the back of her head, together with concurrently cruising on roads which naturally brought out an over awareness to detail in her senses, which she had in high amounts regardless. Lucas knew how tragic that crash must have been, and only tried to alleviate it with the best possible music he could, driving as well as he ever could. And Kelly could see how much the whole thing meant to him; she saw he really did care about all that happened and still felt it necessary to get out of the house even on the days it was hardest and easiest to bunker down at home, even if they had to drive. But she saw he just wanted her to flow with the little rhythms of life, like the music flowed and the street moved on along. They always went at their own pace, but they always made sure to accommodate each other in the kindest ways. She loved the way they did that.

And, sure he just wanted to drive and go thrifting and loiter about a little and smoke and just kick it, not really thinking about what the whole thing means or chatting all too much, but she could tell he really cared. His little eager vibe, so stoked on a specific CD while he drove along, lightened the mood always to the point where she got into the music on the road too, laughing, smoking cigarettes out the window, turning the music all the way up that much higher, both to forget the past and make sure this moment right now lasted a lifetime, in case anything ever happened again.

All that remained was the ignition revving and Lucas coasting, first back and then in a swift maneuver forwards towards Down Bad Thrift.

Kelly didn’t even hold onto anything, surprisingly just slumped peacefully in her seat, so instinctively at peace knowing Lucas was a remarkably good driver. After all, Lucas kept his car in still originally mint perfect condition, his sound system was top of the line, tires capable of handling any severities in weather elements, and his engine was non stock and boosted, not that he leaned on it, at least too heavily. Lucas, of course, liked to show it off just the tiniest bit, sound of exhaust purring and speaker booming out of the surround sound amplifier throughout and subwoofer that was in the back trunk with the 6-CD-Disc-Changer. He only drove fast, though, with Kelly at the very beginning of drives just to lighten the mood a bit playfully and ease the tension from the past in his little way, but then he’d drift along from place to place at more cruising speeds.

He had his music collection loosely stowed away out of reach from visibility, in case someone potentially wanted to break in. That actually happened once to his baby sitter when he was all but about seven years old. Her window got hit and smashed with an evident beer bottle at the side of the car, and every single one of her CDs was taken from the front of her car. He knew how much his priceless collection was worth so, as a matter of safe keeping and safe guarding and also simply as a means of keeping his mind at relative ease, he always kept any off handed CDs and cassette tapes and vinyl records in the trunk, covered by his softest blanket, in crates. Those trunk windows he had fully tinted black. The rest he had only slightly tinted so as to not get pulled over for disobeying any sort of regulations. He couldn’t really afford the whole fine, more in terms of its inconvenience.

Lucas always kept a few packs of cigarettes in the center console, often buying a carton just to have in the car in case he went through the pack in his pocket too quickly or he misplaced them. He rarely would ever misplace a pack, but always happened to burn through a whole one at parties with Kelly if he had been drinking and was in the mood to chain smoke. She noticed that they only really chain smoked when they were in larger crowds, something to fall back on both to get a breath of fresh air outside most literally and as a way to get a breath of fresh air away from the tug and pull of all the people they knew. But he’d keep them at their disposal always in case needed.

Lucas had some other things in the car, a pack of tarot cards that Kelly had gifted him the past winter and a guitar and skate deck and some boots. But honestly, in Kelly’s mind, the cool thing about his car and these rides could be found in facing something tough and overwhelming, and seeing what may change for the better just around the corner. The good always follows the bad. In Lucas’ opinion, even the most miserable person can find pieces of light if they reach at and grasp for it. Light was always there and Lucas just had to remind Kelly, eventually we can do things again the same as we used to.

Almost ironically, she found the drives healed some of the most wounded parts in her, covering something tragic with more optimistic and soothing memories as a bandage. As they drove away from the lake house, this time to the next, each trip inevitably became easier. The drives themselves were like mellow therapeutic outings, helping her cope with tragedy in infinitely lighter conditions and experiences, affirming the emotional awareness and maturity between the two of them. The little drives meant lots. Far from weighing heavily on her mind, the rides actually lessened innate feelings of heaviness, each one softening heart wrenching pain, lessening underlying trauma, soul finding new comfort. Something Kelly always remembered to tell herself, which Lucas would smile upon hearing whenever it was mentioned to him, “time heals all wounds.” It really does.

He putted along at the last portion of the drive along the quaint, remote road on 7th Avenue in Downtown, snagging the most coveted parking spot right in front of Down Bad Thrift. Sure, Lucas had to pull off a pretty tight parallel park in between two trucks, but he pulled the maneuver off alright. He figured, even if he had lightly tapped the front or back bumper of either truck, the trucks would hardly even scratch, a solidly structured frame in front and behind each. Still, Lucas guessed it was worth a shot and took a chance, mostly successfully, except for the truck owner coming out hassling him after, asking why he felt a need to park so close as now, he really couldn’t actually back out, cars tightly in a row packed on the street one after another. I guess Lucas just happened to be the only one willing to parallel park, not at all seeking to impress upon or upset anyone. He just wanted to lighten their little walk on the way back to the car, assuming they’d be carrying a few of the thrift store disposable bags full of clothing and accessories and anything else they liked.

Lucas yelled across a little white lie from the driver’s side door, “Oh sorry, sir, we’ll only be a few, got to get ready for the festival.” The truck driver just ignorantly yelled back, “What the hell are you talking about… a festival?” Oh he was a tourist. They assumed nearly as much and Kelly, seeing Lucas hadn’t fully calmed the angry truck driver’s mind, just nicely called out to the poor man just trying to go on about his day, kindly excusing their actions ever so politely stepping in, “Oh my God, I promise we’ll only be 20 minutes tops, we come in here a lot so it should be quick. I’m so sorry, we got a cigarette for you in case you at all want a smoke while you wait.” All of a sudden, at the arrival of Kelly and her soothing voice to the scene, the truck driver immediately began to noticeably soften, apologizing, letting go of his ego and stoking it a bit too, “Oh no, darling, I don’t smoke, sweetheart, but I had no idea it really was only going to take… 20 tops you said? No worries at all, take your time,” giving her the most tasteless smile.

Lucas just rolled his eyes, not too worried at all now about the traffic coming his direction. For one, October Fest hadn’t swung into full gear throughout the town — still a relatively slow weekday — so cars weren’t really pushing their way past him and Lucas just wanted to push his and Kelly’s way past this old man, who struck a chord in Lucas so vulnerably hurt by older men who viewed him like dirt and detestably viewed Kelly in ways potentially even more crudely just focused on one single element of her true character, at least in Lucas’ mind which often had ways of playing tricks, exaggerating brief little moments like this. He so often got so caught up, building it all up in his head.

Kelly knew she’d have to calm Lucas down as well after all of this, seeing both sides of this previously tense moment, all too aware things like this always had a way of irking Lucas to his bones, tugging at his heart so hurt in the past, always uniquely protective of girls close to him. I mean, after all, Kelly had endured enough trauma, if one could at all consider this traumatic to anyone but Lucas and his own helpless relationship to men. At the moment, Lucas only thought about Kelly to take the focus off his own burdened issues, how she always put up with way more than she should have. I guess, at some point, Lucas just wanted to really show her he felt the pain she felt in a way too.

They held onto pain differently maybe… or maybe, they felt a trauma shared yet separate. But he knew all too well about this world’s way of wounding a bright, kindhearted soul. Kelly had already known this quality of Lucas. Like many, he wanted something back that was taken, something he could never get back. It was something from childhood in the early years a little before or after pre-school, he could never really recall. But he knew many persons in charge who manipulated control over him, kinds of people who he could never really fully come to trust. In the end, on this day, I guess he felt so protective of Kelly then because trauma made him sensitive and Kelly was receptive to his sensitivity with open arms and a way to soften his endless distrust of the world.

So often hidden heavy emotions came across in public as an apathy he firmly displayed. He really just didn’t want to open certain wounds of old. They had healed well enough. The old man hadn’t hurt, or even remotely worried, Kelly. Lucas really just needed her to go into the store with him. As a pacifist, his only way of diffusing all of his dilemmas was to avoid and escape. Of course, he was more bothered by it than Kelly, who was so keenly used to that kind of attention by now.

Unknown to him, she actually was only focused on getting Lucas into Down Bad Thrift, the same thing Lucas hoped to do. Really, Lucas just needed to smoke a cigarette and go check out the selection, just anything to just keep the day in an optimistic light, focusing on the present, not stuck on things from so long ago which sometimes lingered and resurfaced in little, seemingly minute run ins like this.

Lucas never really could do anything about it. These men had a nasty way of making him look like the degenerate kid up to no good, when he really longingly wanted to do what he could to take care of Kelly. He didn’t have much, but he had his car and a few nice things and his best friend. He really wanted only to be useful, even if only for a little. And this kind of thing sometimes opened old wounds — a love he had for the world only to be inevitably damaged by it. It all hurt to say the least. Maybe that’s why he got along so well with the more feminine side of humanity. He didn’t get the toxicity within common masculinity. He never really understood the greed, for wealth and power, the whole idea of getting into a girl’s pants on surface levels, working out excessively… all except he got the idea behind cars. Ever since his dad held him on his lap in the driver’s seat to let Lucas hold the wheel.

Besides that, he would never give into the preconceived idea of what being a man means. To him, it meant more than what job you had or anything, but in the amount you actually loved others and gave yourself up to others without expecting anything in return, the way you handled yourself and all of the pain you had recovered from. It had nothing to do with what you wore or if you went out to drink at night or smoked. To be a man meant not what you gave to others, but in how you treated them. His dad had always sought to instill that within him, and his mother showed it to him day in and day out through example alone and demonstrated actions. Although she and him both found an underlying beauty to quotes and the way things were written or worded — often times discussing different books they had been reading lately — she knew that it was her actions that would leave an impression on Lucas and his other younger siblings. She read novels as that made her soul whole, but solely in the way that she went about her day — this captivating, softly warm hearted feminine soul — she left a true example of the true meaning of what it means to genuinely love the ones you care about. Sure the shows his mother used to watch were superficial, but nothing about the way she loved was superficial. Kelly and his three other sisters all loved in that specific kind of way. So funny how often you learn about the kind of man you want to become in light of the eyes of the girls who you love and that love you the most. Being a man or woman means the ways one gives into, withstands, accepts, and remedies their life for another.

She took her arm and put it gently around Lucas’ shoulders and playful attempted at making a skipping motion to move on from this whole, the man upon seeing the two of them turning away and pacing back and forth a bit scrolling most likely the news feed on his phone, maybe New York Times or if he was a bit more on the intellectual side, which anyone could reasonably be, maybe the New Yorker — idly checking up on news, this old man’s past time, similar to a cigarette. Surely, he poorly was just responding in the best way he saw possible to his truck being blocked off and in no way deep down meant to stand between the outing of these two young individuals. It really was a misunderstanding. Lucas read it all a bit too personally as well as drastically, although he what he was downright upset about wasn’t the man himself, but his inability to really discuss things with Lucas man to man, thus making Lucas feel like he was forced to feel more immature than he really was, as he was nevertheless cast the role of everything from childish to victim to antagonizer. He did no accusing, but had to sit out while his best friend, the pretty girl, and this old man, wealthy elite, settled and resolved it all, Lucas stood idly as a disdained dog or child. Yet, there he was, an adult experiencing childhood flashbacks right alongside of Kelly, but feeling totally aloof alone.

Still, he meandered up the curb past the cars, his luckily timed parking spot feeling intensely inconvenient by this time. He felt the inconvenience wrenched wretchedly in his gut. But he felt Kelly’s arms come around his and as she motioned in a playful skipping way forward, he loosened up and knew that “this too shall pass”, as Kelly always remarked to him. Sure, he would hold onto the trauma inducing momentary trigger for a few hours, but as he grew older, he found his way back to self connectedness, awareness, security, sensitivity & the sense of playfulness only the young at heart can have. Lucas may have been young at heart, but both he and Kelly had age old souls, so wise early on and even more so in young adulthood, the tragic realities they faced pivotally at crucially cruel & sad moments within the scope of their lives only leading to more depth & maturity. Someone once told Lucas, “it’s all about perspective… with more experience comes greater perspective…” It was something along those lines in an attempt to show him the power he held, a little spark to his fire and passion within, after a time he knew little about his innate, unwavering strength — he really did always find a way out of dark times, and this mentoring individual just wanted to remind him of his capabilities.

She took her arm and put it gently around Lucas’ shoulders and playful attempted at making a skipping motion to move on from this whole, the man upon seeing the two of them turning away and pacing back and forth a bit scrolling most likely the news feed on his phone, maybe New York Times or if he was a bit more on the intellectual side, which anyone could reasonably be, maybe the New Yorker — idly checking up on news, this old man’s past time, similar to a cigarette. Surely, he poorly was just responding in the best way he saw possible to his truck being blocked off and in no way deep down meant to stand between the outing of these two young individuals. It really was a misunderstanding. Lucas read it all a bit too personally as well as drastically, although he what he was downright upset about wasn’t the man himself, but his inability to really discuss things with Lucas man to man, thus making Lucas feel like he was forced to feel more immature than he really was, as he was nevertheless cast the role of everything from childish to victim to antagonizer. He did no accusing, but had to sit out while his best friend, the pretty girl, and this old man, wealthy elite, settled and resolved it all, Lucas stood idly as a disdained dog or child. Yet, there he was, an adult experiencing childhood flashbacks right alongside of Kelly, but feeling totally aloof alone.

Kelly slightly lightly tugged at the sleeve of his sweater, patting his back and in a most relaxing and chipper way, said, “Come on bestie, let’s see what they have in stock, got to be something good in here, sometimes you just got to litter the toxic, bitter attitudes of old folks towards you just slide of your shoulders. They’re just jealous of our youthful outlook and still pure hearted nature.” Just like he led her way through her trauma recovery as they tread their way on wayward roads, him the captain to her renewed hopefulness on car rides, she was in the driver’s seat as far as shopping and retail therapy truly went.

They even had old collectors edition vinyls and original CDs and tapes, and old VHS tapes reminiscent of happier childhood memories. We take the good with the bad in the life, oftentimes one after the other. There’s nice guys & evil guys, best friends & arch enemies, good cop & bad cop, low points & high lights, come up & come down, the mania & depression, day & night… it all comes in waves, one can’t exist without the other, the harsh makes us appreciate the gentle, the forgettable only puts an emphasis on and holds a candle to the remarkably memorable, stubborn mistakes lead to insightful lessons. On this day, Lucas was handed the bad news first. He had to face ever present past trauma he had not fully recovered from. Also, he only had 20 minutes to look around and hadn’t even enjoyed a stress and anxiety relieving cigarette. I mean, how could he look through all of this in 20 minutes, all of these brand new yet vintage CDs?

“Wow, Kelly, look at their CD collection…” his voice came through in a more humbled, warmer tone at a more balanced wavelength. Kelly was easily pleased in hearing him back to his usual mellow & meditative attentiveness to his CDs and of course music. “Kelly, damn, did you see this? They got ‘Man on the Moon’ by Kid Cudi and old Ratatat and ‘Goo’ by Sonic Youth and the Flaming Lips… and oh my God, I absolutely have to get this one… I can’t believe they have ‘Heaven or Las Vegas’ by the Cocteau Twins. Someone played them once, I can’t remember where…” His voice trailed off as he talked more to himself at this, a way to collect his thoughts and engage with everything while also tuning out a bit from harsh realities we never had to pay too much attention to anyways.

He was unaware Kelly was grinning and laughing happily only to herself out of Lucas’ hearing radius or sight at the opposite end of the store. She amused herself, watching Lucas swipe & scroll & snag off the shelf then put back neatly onto it repetitively & rhythmically hopping mildly around the thrift store’s music collection. Kelly decided it was time to bring Lucas back down to Earth, heal his ADHD temporarily, so she called out from the clothing section, “Hey Lucas, grab that Cocteau Twins CD.” “Or what about The Velvet Revolution?”

“Lucas, you’re killing me, I think the car ride back definitely calls for a bit of ‘Heaven or Las Vegas’ something soothing in spite of a lot going on, all of the hectic banter. We need that post punk goth vibe, something with heartfelt feeling kind of like The Cure.” “Oh, you’re definitely right, sorry I got carried away, guess it helped just get away from that bullshit back there. You’re right, Cocteau Twins is perfect for today.” “Lucas, you were right, you’re always right to you know? That CD really is a good choice, I’m not even shocked you know every damn band anymore. But, hurry, check out what I found. We only have about 8 more minutes before angry trucker hat guy, or whoever, goes off again.” Lucas obliged stumbling on over, flaunting the new CD tightly held pressed into his sweater just above his heart.

She held up the goofy, white rimmed glasses. “They had two pairs of them, the iconic ones, right? Like you were talking about before, can you believe it? And some old hemp vans for you and some vintage denim Chuck Taylor Converse for me, a flannel for each of us, two pairs of denim jeans & most intriguingly a vintage worn out dad hat for me and one of those beanies with the ear muff things attached to it, like Cobain wore or maybe a Russian or two wore back in the day, I don’t know… what do you think?” Lucas was amped, fully out of his state of reflectivity, “Damn, what the hell, for Heaven’s sake, Kelly it’s perfect. ‘Look good, feel good’ right. You know, this will probably be one of the best October Fest experiences yet.” “Lucas, I completely agree, we’ll make it all so worth it… always good to cherish the holidays. You finally got in the spirit. I was hoping you would. Alright we got 5 minutes to check everything out, set everything down and get on out of here to avoid any more hassle or conflict. And of course, let’s switch up the music a bit, Nirvana was perfect for the drive here. On the way back, we’ll play the new one. It’s ’Heaven or Las Vegas’ tonight. Alright, let’s make moves… 4 minutes.”

It had been so cute she had been keeping track of the time. Lucas would have been in there for another two hours, his car towed by then. They checked out the goods swiftly enough, items placed together hastily and compactly in Down Bad Thrift Tote Bags, “free of charge on any orders over $100. Guess your total comes out to $100. About $10 apiece for each item. The CD cost a bit more since that one was brought in still in original mint condition. Cash or card?” “Just using Apple Pay these days,” Kelly commented, loving most of the more basic, useful & minimal iPhone apps.

“Well, it’s worth making use of some left over hard earned cash on the holidays. It’s as good a time as any. The money was burning a hole in my pockets anyways. I was more worried we would get carried away shelling it on way too much booze. I absolutely love Down Bad Thrift. You guys always have the best items here. Money ends up well spent.” “Yeah, the shop is definitely not the worst place to be,” the friendly cashier giggled a bit complacently. “It has its perks… don’t tell anyone, but some of this stuff they just hand to us as we’re about to head home for work. It’s a pretty tight knit community, especially at the thrift shop, as you and all the locals know quite well.”

Kelly and her best friend in the whole world smiled back at the kind cashier and picked up the tote bag filled with their shopping finds, making their way to the car and sliding into the car just as their burdensome friend was looking their way pointing down at his watch, in ticking rhythms. Lucas smiled & waved in a mocking, nonchalant manner and back out skillfully, expertly maneuvering between the cars and out onto the roads, flipping off the gentleman as he rode off into the early sunset, this late afternoon a few days before Halloween. Before merging onto the open road, he jutted into a more accessible parking spot just down the road out of the line of sight of the man in the Ford pickup. Before Kelly questioned his quick pit stop, she distinctly remembered one thing was left to take care of before setting forth on the ride back to the Lake House. In the 6th CD slot of the Cherokee’s 6-Disc-CD-Changer in the back trunk, he inserted ‘Heaven or Las Vegas’ by the Cocteau Twins. The CD resided in the slot alongside all of the CDs in the other slots: ‘Donuts’ by J Dilla, ‘1999’ by Prince, ‘Beautiful Vision’ by Van Morrison, ‘Berlin’ by Lou Reed, ‘What’s Going On’ by Marvin Gaye, and of course the ‘MTV Unplugged Live’ performance by Kurt Cobain at front and center in Nirvana.

The lush intro of ‘Heaven and Las Vegas’ came through on the amplified sound system and sub woofer as soon as Lucas switched over the CD in auxiliary from the 5th to 6th slot. He twisted his key to get the ignition up and going, pressing on the gas as a way to quickly rev the engine up to maximum initial speed and capacity, with no cars in relative to proximity, soon settling down to slower speeds, coasting along at a precise speed limit. He was basically on auto pilot, finally able to enjoy Kelly’s company. She was slumped and exhausted as much as he was alongside of him. He rolled down his driver’s side window in the midst of artfully managing to remove a pack from his left pocket. He was accustomed to pulling it out quickly in times like this, eyes never pulled away from the road, focused on driving, yet still fully able to whip up & procure two cigarettes from the pack, one for him & one of course for her. She lazily held out her hand, appreciative of the thoughtfully well handled art of pulling out a cigarette while focusing completely ahead on more pertinent matters at hand.

She smiled a smile she could only make to Lucas, lashes fluttering over in his direction, then quickly looking out the window to the road. They passed by as it seemed to pass them. She pulled out her favorite Day of the Dead Zippo Lighter from the glove box & lit up her smoke, Lucas already half way through his 3rd drag, blissfully engaged Nirvana. He thought about that album & then brought his mind back to the one put up to the highest reasonable decibel, a volume that was the go to favorite when wind swept through their hair, light from setting sun coming in soft wavy hues with the clouds seemingly content up in the sky. They couldn’t hear a word the other was saying, but they had a vague notion & general idea what was on their mind.

It was the music, the cigarette, facing & overcoming trauma, and most importantly the candid company of one another. They go out and face the day, experience it all, then return to home base. The beginning, middle & end blurring together in an ideal moment. They would of course remember all that happened that day, but the thing that stayed with them on a more permanent level was not the little run in with the guy who owned the Ford Pickup. Rather more engrained was one, defining cute moment, Kelly’s hair picking up in the wind, her hand riding waves outside of the window, Lucas quickly ducking his head out of the window in a quick rush like the most satisfied puppy would & the two of them returning to their little thoughts focused on the road & in awe of the sunset.

Then they looked at each other, his hair curling up in a soft tuft both with & against the wind, hers flowing freely behind her ears. A look passed between them of an almost sedative & mellow & overwhelmingly pleased vibe. It had an underlying quality. There was deep longing & enticing feelings. His eyes gave off the tiniest amount of “I fucking love you.” Hers did too.

To be honest, Lucas enjoyed one of his most relieving & soothing smoking sessions that night, alone in wondrous solitude, Kelly smiling peacefully as she cooked up their favorite, Mahi Mahi which she wrapped as a burrito in an organic tortilla with classic refried beans & Spanish rice, guacamole, extra hot salsa & the secret ingredient — tater tots. She set the plates down on the glass dining room table and called out to him, gleefully hoping that she wasn’t rushing up his much needed smoke or anything, but just gently reminding him the Mahi Mahi burritos were on the table whenever he was ready.

They both agreed that eating on the couch could be excused tonight “after all the little melodrama…” “We got through it, didn’t we” “We sure did, no doubt about that.” They had been chatting across the way from each other, him out on the terrace & her from just beyond the warmly lit sliding glass doors.

Lucas efficiently took a few more puffs of his cigarette, the most intoxicating ones of all, the one you always had to call quits on at some point. He wouldn’t want to wear out the welcoming effects. Sure, one was left as nothing but a butt & fallen ash, but that was life. We felt it all sweep over us, fully caught up by the daily tides & then a chapter closed. We lit up a brand new cigarette. All comes to eventual ends then starts up again. We begin anew.

Nothing in life was permanent, it was all temporary, that was the beauty. Right now, it was all in the Tim Burton flicks on TV as they a bit scandalously lay on the couch snuggled on each end under blankets while also trying to devour Kelly’s Mahi Mahi burritos all while watching the work of the renowned Tim Burton & attempting to not spill with a still upmost self respect. They were fully tuned into the Burton classics. Time seemed to go into wild blissful comfort, all but standing still. The two of them passed out in less than half an hour. It was only 7:30 p.m.

The next morning, around 6:30 a.m., Kelly lulled up out of a Burton enhanced daze, a bit of beauty sleep to say the least, and laughed hilariously at Lucas, face down against the cushion. He could have felt embarrassed if he had been in a more wakeful state, a small line of drool against the cushion. ‘I’ll have to wash that,’ Kelly thought well amused by his utter sleepy abandon. To wake him, she brewed up the quickest pot of coffee you may have witnessed ever in history, so used to the process.

She was a barista in college so classic drip caused no sense of fuss within her. She just operated the machine in subtly unenthused ways… the water, boiling it, the paper filters, just the right amount of Cafe to Nowhere’s grounded bag of medium roast Colombian coffee beans. In a matter of what seemed like two or so minutes, she held up a fresh cup right up against Lucas’ gently sensing and lightly snoring nose — the cup Lucas drank from & rinsed and washed clean each day.

Kelly knew he would come to in a matter of moments. Just like the steadily dripping, eventually brewed coffee, she would have to patiently wait for Lucas to come to his senses. She knew the only thing he wanted more than a fresh Marlboro 27 and her company of course (how could he not, she thought) was coffee, to taste & smell. The coffee and fresh cigarettes helped him move from restful sleep to meditation & then awakening. The coffee, cigarettes, mediation & shower was just minimal daily activity to prepare for what may lay ahead of him. It was all therapeutic.

Lucas didn’t like therapy too much, but having studied psychology in depth, he knew what his mind & body & soul would need as a means of acclimating himself to both routine & change, pleasure and pain, sensitivity & absent mindedness. He got into gear in the morning, winding up as a way to ready himself to face each day’s profoundly new demands & stresses & then wound down on serene nights, decompressing in a reflective fashion, nostalgically enjoying anything familiar.

The mornings and nights, all by instinct & inevitable memory. We drift to sleep and we slowly open our eyes to awake. He dreamt his final, most memorable parts of his dream. Kelly and him had opened up a coffee shop. Instead, they served free coffee all day & business revolved around selling goods exchanged for another item of same or lesser value to their returning visitors, It was a non profit, experience driven shop. At the exact moment when he announced it was their one year anniversary, at the shop of course, he awoke to a cute sight of Kelly, albeit a tiny bit blurry at first lazily opening his eyes. She looked so captivated by the sight of his slow ways of waking up, then returning her attention back to watching TV with the still toasty mug of his sitting on the edge of the living room coffee table, the aroma engulfing his being & bringing him to his senses.

He rose up off the couch, blankets strewn about. He speedily rushed his hands to the coffee mug’s handle and hurriedly yet conscientiously moved the cup in his general direction, warm drip of hot coffee dripping just a tiny bit from his lips — this was Heaven to him, truly breakfast in bed, immediate drip coffee. He looked Kelly’s way. She was actually a bit sluggish still and inattentively & idly staring at some celebrity gossip on television.

Lucas couldn’t help experiencing a feeling of overwhelming attraction to Kelly, the way she was in her mellow morning routine, still in her sweats & an old college crew neck & beanie & Uggs. She liked when she didn’t try to be like all other pretty girls. He doubted even his stupidly precious Sally looked this good so early in the morning without makeup or even swapping out the outfit of the night before.

“Well, at least you’re finally awake,” Kelly exclaimed in a bored yet humored way. “It took you over a half hour to awake, you were dreaming pretty vividly. It probably had something to do with the coffee I held in front of you for a few minutes. I put it on the table, but it got cold so I had to brew another pot. It’s cool though, I had more to drink myself. Anyways, good morning.” Lucas, still with half opened eyes was the most content she had ever really noticed him on this morning. His vibe was so mellow.

He was really nice to be around — she thought — early in the morning, before he got caught up in it all, even more quiet but in a more easy going & less introverted lonely way. He was just so glad to see another dawn, not that he was awake for it, but a new day always meant brand new beginnings. And today, he looked at Kelly and said the sweetest thing.

He said, “You’re my fav Kelly, thanks for the coffee… and Kelly, it’s really good to see you. Cocteau Twins last night and that one song playing & the drive & the cigarette… and you, you stuck right by my side the whole entire time. That one song that was playing… the whole thing, I’ll hold onto that moment forever. Oh yeah… I almost forgot which song it was. I don’t know, the way you looked at me, I don’t know, it was so cool. The song, before I fall back asleep, hold on I know it. It was… yes, how could I ever forget, the self titled track on the Cocteau Twins’ CD, 5th track, ‘Heaven or Las Vegas’. That meant the universe to me.

Kelly looked his way, secretly stoked and soothingly stunned. He actually remembered one of those fateful moments they had between each other where their eyes just fell in a mellow, sedated & blissful glow upon one another. Moments liked those happened a certain memorable moments in their life. She knew it was their most coveted state, beyond even what Lucas could ever envision. It was Heaven. Maybe it was Las Vegas too, but it was definitely truly Heaven.

“Lucas,” she responded back, “It meant the universe to me & even that much more. Those moments are some of the greatest ones in my life. It’s true, in those states, I honestly could never ask for more. Seeing you like that is a sight that I’ll cherish forever & ever infinitely.”

He smiled so openly vulnerable & she knew he really wouldn’t forget that one. More than anyone & anything, she wanted him and those exact moments. Lastly, she knew it would not be the last time that happened, not even close, she distinctly believed their souls had met up in this lifetime for a predestined reason; slowly, but surely their souls were crashing into each other deeply in the gentlest way one could ever intend.

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the rest is history in the making in the future.

they fall in love at the dopest music festival of all time…

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This whole experience & scene that formed within the cute little community of Camden, Sierra all began four years before Lucas was born on May 5th, 1998 — a little over three years after Cafe to Nowhere’s first day as a business in the neighborhood, to be exact, October 24th, 1994 — the day, month, and year when Joey Duds believed it was a proper enough time to introduce a new downtown coffee spot, a niche place that would naturally enhance the coffee drinking experience as this rad new owner entrepreneurially & insightfully knew the one aspect of the café experience usually missing at most coffee joints was the distinct accompaniment of music alongside of the outing.

Of course, most cafés nowadays stream music on speakers amplifying on surround sound throughout — usually a Spotify playlist likely named “Coffee Shop” or “Rainy Morning Jazz”. Joey liked that logistically, surely, of course.

Still… Duds wanted to legitimize the listening experience with something a bit more authentic & engaging to each of the guests at his shop, so he decidedly implemented a music lounge as one of the crucial aspects of the newly founded café. Guests inevitably would find themselves strolling into that now widely acclaimed little hangout spot, soon stirring just the right amount of buzz. The lounge opened up to a vast collection — inclusive of the widest variety at their fingertips, from grunge to hip hop to indie, country, punk, shoegaze, heavy metal, goth, folk, emo, jazz, classical, pop, of course rock & roll & all that follows thereafter.

In the music lounge, a guest could then peruse the esteemed collection of vinyl records, CDs & cassette tapes, pleasantly available for purchase if they came up on & found something worth the little extra cash stashed in their back pocket wallet. Maybe they’d find an album that could possibly impact the way in which they thought about their day, where the day turns into a month, as well as a uniquely nostalgic, impactful experience that would last a lifetime. In turn, Joey Duds was walking around in a blissfully aimless way right on that exact corner in downtown Camden one day in early September of ‘93, suddenly landing on both the idea to create this cool little establishment, along with the name which always left people innocently craving an answer as to the name’s reason.

Cool names were frequently discussed in a similar fashion to the way people always ask others if the tattoo they got inked had any meaning. I mean, of course the tattoo has meaning… anything you want etched in that cutely needled and edgy way has memorably engraved meaning — a cool & nostalgic little memorable treasure marked in a thoughtfully subtle & steady handed trend setting way. So without too much built up or preconceived hype, about a year before deciding to build the café, then the fall of 1993 as mentioned briefly in passing, he decided to call the soon to be developed shop “Café to Nowhere”, coming up with the name in a mere matter of moments.

Duds, in his own way, lay all of his cards out on the table. In Texas Hold ‘Em, one would never do this, right? Magicians usually never give away their tricks, as my sister initially clued me in on sometime in maybe about 4th or 5th grade… just as authors never stay up on gossip & the talk of the town. Well, of course they do… I’m kidding & kind of attempting to be sarcastic. Oh well, nevertheless, Joey Duds 100% wanted the music, coffee & an introduced weekend bar to be such a well paired experience that there was nowhere you needed to go afterwards, everything existing pleasantly — if not at all a bit complacently — at his cute café. Poker-faced Duds looked up from his hand of cards, ‘I see your call. I’ll raise. I’m all in.’

So there it was, now October, 1994. Sitting in a remote & cool part of downtown, there was Café to Nowhere at the corner spot, his ultimate life’s work and establishment, the founding of a one stop shop, where he & baristas would help satisfy customers’ oftentimes frequently arising demands by efficiently serving excellent coffee, discussing & checking out their vinyl, cassette tape, and CD purchases, in addition to mindfully — having proudly attained their liquor license as well — fetching the guests glasses of beer & liquor & even whole wine bottles, all while (hastily in the steadfast, quickly paced meantime) offering sensationally tasting food & appetizers, to enjoy delectably for hours on end posted up at the cute little, freshly built locally owned café. 

So the year, if you can begin to ponder & reminisce the days of the café’s meager start, was 1994. The seasons had grown colder, now October 24th. Duds naturally felt a bit nervous, or rather subtly apprehensive, as he was really just so stoked, fidgeting here and there, constantly doing nearly a million little errands at or nearby the café to get his little coffee joint up & running, steaming to a complete & perfect brew.

Joey wanted to set himself up for success & only experienced a casually nervous tension in those early days because he conscientiously noticed the café’s potential & knew all of the work he would have to put in to cultivate a unique hot spot, destined to inevitably become a Camden cornerstone.

Then came the first selections that Joey wanted to feature prominently at the café. The first record which came to mind, for whatever reason in Duds’ lackadaisical and reasonably observant way, was a record Lucas would first stumble upon in college his Sophomore year. He literally accidentally knocked over the CD sitting unopened on a table in his friend’s dorm. He drunkenly crashed into the table on which the CD lay flat, tipping it completely.

That was the year 2018, but let’s get back to 1994 — the year Joey was so carefully focused on setting up the music lounge in that gloomy fall month of October, seeking out the record he impulsively and rationally thought would be the best one to christen the café’s experience, the one Lucas finally listened to 24 years later a little before he became a legally drinking adult. The album, impactful in Joey’s life span, was ‘Dirty’, the Sonic Youth record, released on June 21st, 1992, exactly 2 years, 4 months, and 3 days before the coffee shop was built, months spent on construction, a few years on monotonously tedious paperwork.

Upon the album’s release, only two years & some change prior to the café’s first day in business on the block, locals in Camden barely even paid any mind or thought to the new grunge scene coming up on the West Coast & relatively world wide, although still just in its rawest and most original form.

Nirvana had, what seemed like so long ago, released their introductory grunge experimental record ‘Bleach’ as well as the renowned classic, ‘Nevermind’, having not released Lucas’ favorite tape ‘In Utero’ quite yet. Also, a few bands similar to Sonic Youth & Nirvana had been making a few waves already in the grunge scene, such as Mud Honey, Green River, Stone Temple Pilots & The Smashing Pumpkins, incentivizing & provoking full blown interest in a whole new genre, stemming a bit from post punk, goth, pure punk, indie classical & just elements of almost all of the currently existent genres.

Grunge pulled from all of these genres, really fully hoping instead however to give their music a much denser & grimier sound with a shimmery, thickly reverb heavy electric guitar, amplifying the tones & overall drive of the instrument, sometimes screeching in one take session songs on their albums or live in concert, not that bands like Nirvana made any real mistakes, such as in their MTV Unplugged Performance live in Hells Kitchen of Manhattan, New York on November 18th, 1993. DGC released Nirvana’s tape on November 1st, 1994 — ever so nicely capping off that wonderful first week of the Café’s humble beginnings with a resounding bang.

Everyone could tangibly hold the final recording of the recently passed grunge rockstar, Kurt Cobain & crew, taking center stage on MTV amidst vivid stage lighting & ethereal atmosphere at the Sony Music Headquarters hosting a tight knit community. Nirvana played to an almost cult-like fan base at the time, their music soon rampantly inviting many people into their sound, a vibe everyone could truly appreciate. But at first, it was just those of course in Seattle & a few grunge type hipsters who had moved away from the city of Washington to places like none other than the city of Sierra, more specifically the little town of Camden. 

Joey Duds was one such individual, having made the brave jump & decision to quit his job as both a broker & stock trader in Seattle — jobs he had kept for the past 14 years — to move to a town not many had heard about. He had done his research though, on the best and cutest — albeit mostly unknown & only lightly talked about — towns. Camden, Sierra was at the top of most of these lists, both in the eyes of the independent types of folks hip to underground trends.

Joey already felt destined to forget more run-of-the-mill business pursuits, fully focused on his dream of establishing a renowned coffee shop somewhere remote & quaint. He had an innovative hunch that an up & coming town like Camden would most definitely rely on the comfort & jolt of coffee to spur morning business venture pursuits, as well as just to wake himself up in the process of getting the tight knit community moving & grooving. This Camden town was rumored to possess a full blown intellectual mind of its own. Duds hoped Camden would unequivocally perfectly fit his vibe.

He moved a month later, early winter of 1992, boarding a plane just a month after quitting his jobs as a broker & stock trader, the first flight out of Seattle, a one way ticket, not a usual two way getaway, to Camden. The employee checking his bags even inquisitively asked where he was headed, to which he so simply replied in a rationally blunt yet still enthused tone “Camden, Sierra”. He was not too focused on talking with many people, more in a daydream kind of daze eagerly awaiting his voyage, departure, & soon-to-be arrival to the town he had researched for so many extensive nights in his minimalist apartment in Seattle.

“Sir, your bags?” Duds apologized, coming back to his surroundings a bit, a tad lethargic from waking up so early, still not yet having enjoyed his morning coffee. He almost both mindfully and mindlessly, in dual amounts, pondering off into what he envisioned would be his new life in this town which flew under so many’s radar.

“So Camden, huh?” The employee who checked his bags laughed after asking the question, for the most part at Duds’ inattentiveness that was ironically paired with a slight hop in his step & chipper demeanor & relaxed, idle disposition. The employee contentedly chimed in again, obviously just happy to engage with customers on another lovely day at the airport, anything to help the time pass swiftly by, attentively focused on the fliers instead of minutes on the clock, so that he could count money in his pocket, not the time on the wall. A few minutes passed by and Duds was not all together making casual conversation in his groggy state.

So the bag checker just let things slide, still attempting to stay friendly & courteous, “Well, sir, I hope you take it all in & really enjoy your vacation,” the playfully hard working employee said in passing the ticket back to the cafe’s eminent owner.

The bag checker went on, almost overly aware that the ticket he handed back only allotted a one way trip even though, when asked whether the trip was a little vacation to get away from work for a while, Joey replied, “Oh, uh yeah…” followed by a murmuring of “that’s where I’m headed, should be fun…” as he let out the most contentedly unconcerned little chuckle after he acknowledged how the new experience would most definitely be a fun — if not… life changing — one.

Understandably, the bag checker was, slightly a bit confused as to why Duds would purchase a one way flight for a vacation, but sadly also considered an astutely obvious factor that, like many of the people flying out that this man comes across on these early morning flights, this particular frequent flier — by the name of Joey Duds — may not have disclosed the task he had to attend to in Camden. It was a lot to disclose in depth. He decided unconsciously to keep it all under wraps.

To the bag checker, this was a typical incident when it came to conversing with the flyers. To him — at least he made the assumption — travelers like Duds were ones he usually referred to as “preoccupied hoverers” who just hovered from place to place idly focused on other things, maybe even lost in the confines of their cell phone, simply going from one destination looming, or hovering, over the airport floors.

Even if something went terribly wrong at the airport, preoccupied hoverers were usually so caught up in their headphones & predetermined task that nothing ever seemed too catastrophic, chaotic, conversationally important, or relevant to stand in the way of their blissful solitude in the time spent waiting for flights, standing in baggage claim and lift lines, boarding & sitting on the plane & exiting the plane, finding a taxi & unpacking. Some people, throughout the whole excursion, keep all of social exchange to a minimum, preoccupied in whatever to help remain detached, despondently hovering above one place to the next until they reach their final destination.

The bag checker & this specific preoccupied hoverer — Joey Duds — really both only wanted the time between now to the time that they got in their casual & comfy clothes in the confines of their respective homes, to pass by as swiftly as humanly possible.

Duds, in his impulsive early morning traveling plans, was not really paying attention to this man he would for all intents & purposes never see again foreseeably going forward. His bags now travelled down slowly moving conveyor belts, or whatever they call those little moving pads at airports that transfer luggage to drivers who load them snuggly onto the plane’s undertow storage. Please forgive my lack of airline slang terminology.

Joey, the man highlighted in this little chapter, was on a mission. Obviously it didn’t involve paying much consideration to Seattle conversations, which to him resided within mere nostalgic memories in his past.

Nonetheless, Joey Duds was on a mission, a specific mission to make it all the way safely to Camden away from all of the Seattle hustle & bustle, lit up sky lights & all of the big fuss & glimmer & glam, the mania and depression on the despondently & vaguely gray streets.

Duds let all of this emotion & constant murmur & ongoings within the airport, culminate in an album that highlighted the mixed feelings of coming & going, giving & taking, apathy and empathy, something that hit one’s senses. He of course turned on the generationally weary eyed album “Dirty” by Sonic Youth, which almost singularly found a subtle sonic layer, an emotional capacity for both apathy & feeling within sound.

In a matter of weeks, he would have fully set up & organized his recently paid for studio apartment & would maybe even be able to say he made a friend or two, sharing conversations with some locally famous personas or esteemed store owners by then, knowing that half of moving to a new city is just striking up conversations.

You know, when you move somewhere, it’s nice to put a few cards on the table, so to speak, to get your name on the board, throw yourself into the mix & build a whole new reputation typically based off of initial impressions, the original glimpses into one’s core nature. Whether their perception holds weight, or carries genuine credibility or falsified self assumptions, varies person to person. Anyways, Duds hoped they would at least view him in an endearingly approachable manner in his new residence. He couldn’t wait to set up.

Now skip forward to a little less than two years later & Joey is still getting set up… only this time, he has a furnished place to get back to, along with at least one of the few girls who always stops by the still young 34 year old Joey’s studio abode. He had his dwelling pad perfectly suitable for days he wished to stay in, often cozily participating in the little comforting home body lifestyle.

Now he had to set up his new dream and dial in on what was needed to turn his hobbies — listening to tunes, sipping on coffee — into a fully realized, profitable enterprise. Even in Seattle formerly as a stock trader, when he traded stocks at 4 in the morning on the West Coast — seeking quick low buys and high sells in day trades — he still never gave up on his dream, simply to drink coffee, listen to music, socialize & go about each day in a rhythmically subdued, soothing way. What he loved was coffee, not stocks & bonds & all of that pursuit of wealth for wealth alone. He wanted social exchange, street-like currency, business ethics & a fair trade.

His dream, of course, required wealth. That’s where jobs he despised going to each day actually left long term benefit. So those years & years of accountability & returning to work day after day after day — even if reluctantly — all paid off?

Joey already had enough savings & earnings in 14 years as a broker & stock trader to own & run a coffee shop right out of the gate. Landing in Camden in 1992, he spent ample time getting a read on the people & surroundings, establishing first his identity as a fresh faced intellectual in Camden just starting to get a feel for the little ongoings of daily life within the town.

Two years since his arrival eventually passed — he had consistently went around all of the other cafés & bars, or ‘pubs’ as they called them there… Joey went to films at night & book shops & strolled along the streets either on foot or via bike or in the comfort of the old Ford he had just recently bought. During these two years, he meandered from place to place, envisioning both a location for his foreseen café & thinking out how the coffee shop would inevitably turn a profit.

The cash, he imagined, not including the tips left in a jar for the lovely & youthful & opportunistic baristas, would be the true means of exchange to pay for the café’s expenses & to fulfill his vision of having quality items for people to purchase, from coffee to wine to CDs & appetizers, so they’d hang around & continue getting drinks and food & pieces of music.

So while other places served coffee, no doubt, Duds had plans for the big picture. The big picture involved the music lounge. That all started with an online purchase, delivered to his Camden studio apartment, of Sonic Youth’s Dirty, in vinyl format & as CDs and cassette tapes. Duds paid in full for the ‘Dirty’ tapes & assumed, in the future, that he would probably find a music vendor offering discounted prices to store owners buying in bulk, thus maximizing returns on investment when sold back to customers.

Two weeks later, the Sonic Youth records, CDs & tapes arrived. And 24 years after that, Lucas got his first glance at these very tapes, music inspired by, but not based in hip hop. It was the first genre since hip hop to garner his attentive respect. The pivotally iconic music, hands down, was grunge. One of the esteemed grunge masterpieces was ‘Dirty’. The band, of course, went by ‘Sonic Youth.’