Introduction back to America. Day 3. [draft]

Jaime picked me up from the airport. We then proceeded to the liquor store. He bought nine bottles of fine wine for Dana and guests. One half liter of Absolute Vodka and a case of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and a Summerpack. $200. Then we went to the beer store where we bought three wine-size bottles of beer. One of them was $30. Lunch at the Frisco Grill. Steak Fajita Sandwich with goat cheese and fries for Jaime. Two chicken tacos for me. Four original beers. Northcoast Prankster. Evolution Lot #3 on firkin. Sierra Nevada 30th Anniversay Fritz and Ken. And one white marsh blueberry on cask. $40. Everyone at the bar knows Jaime’s name. He keeps a book. Every time he goes to the bar he drinks three original beers and writes them down in his book. That means he never has the same beer twice. These last four beers puts him at 680 unique beers at that particular bar, which he frequents twice a week – Wednesday and Friday 2-4. Happy hour. Next stop – the beer brewer store. Maryland homebrew. It smells like malt in here. Kind of makes me feel ill, but he gets a high off of it. We buy 3 pounds of malted wheat, a pound of crystal 40 and a pound of crystal 60 and an ounce of hallertau hops. A bucket of sanitizer. $30. Someone is grinding malt and the air fills with little malt sugar dust particles. BJ’s. I am in a daze. The stacks of everything pile high to the ceilings of this warehouse. They have perfectly good black stretchy jeans for $15. Huge quart-size bottles of Listerine – 2 for $10. You could buy this thing and not run out of Listerine for two years. T-shirts for 8 bucks. I want to buy clothes. Jaime buys a 28 pack of 20oz waters. 3 bottles of lemonade. A bag of pinenuts and pistachios. An economy size pack of Bratwersts. One variety case of Izzy sparkling fruit juice. 3 different flavors. 72 rolls of toilet paper. “Gotta whipe my butt!” exclaims Jaime in the car on the way home. “Couldn’t find the whipey things,” he reminds me. Spending the day with my brother in suburban America: priceless.

I lay in bed at my brother’s house and there are no arms wrapped around me. No hands to hold. No one to scratch my back. No one to tell me what to do next or comfort me and remind me that I will figure this thing out. I take my first nap alone. It is 5pm. I don’t wake up until 1am. I decide to go back to sleep. I sleep until 7am.