My college had an excuse-to-binge-drink-fest every year near the end of the spring semester. I’m not going to lie and say I never partook in the genre of beer related gluttony that induces a double vision haze, but it is certainly not one of my favorite things. So when the festival of drunk college student debauchery unfolded, I would spend my time picking up cans for extra cash and making sure all of my friends made it home safe.
Senior year, 4:00 AM. My can collecting spree guided me to a development of student apartments in close proximity to the college. I notice someone laying face-down in the grass in the distance. I walk closer to investigate. It’s one of my closest friends, and he appears to have drank enough to foster a deep infatuation of the cold nighttime grass. I attempt to pick him up, drag him to my car, and somehow manage to lift him into my passenger’s seat. All the while he kept repeating the same thing: “Erica, this was the best night ever. You’re the best friend ever. YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND.” He seemed stuck in a repetitive thought loop resulting in an epiphany regarding our friendship. This continued the entire ride home.
He eventually sobered up and years later we recorded this together. He’s quite brilliant at keys, and he says I can handle a microphone. It’s a cover of a (mutual) favorite song by a (mutual) favorite band. I give you Destiny by Zero 7.