Nobody Dances Sober — Laura Lee Anderson

'Almost nobody dances sober, unless they happen to be insane'. ~H.P. Lovecraft I made it a goal to find something noteworthy relating to every occupant which seemed simple enough in theory. I had grand ideas to write many tales and I threw each person into a large pool from which I fished. More interesting to me than the crazy, loud, or costumed person were those who stumped me. They looked plain and acted predictably in almost every way even as they stepped off the train and it sped away on the tracks leaving them behind. I felt they were the ones with the stories worth hearing. As I rode the train home that day, I could not immediately imagine a scenario where a man in his very early twenties would need a well-crafted suit, yet no one would be alerted by bright red relatively inexpensive canvas sneakers. Little did I imagine Mr. Red Chucks would change my life.I was heart broken. Heart. Broken. The little shards tinkled around my insides connected to nothing and floating in vitreous fluids until I could stand it no more. Forgive me if I wax poetic, here, but I am a musician, you see. We let our emotions fester until they make great music. Raw is the only way to write a meaningful song. I know this from experience. To be honest, the instruments are little more than parts of the costumer. What we actually play is the audience. If a musician does that just right, just perfectly so that they aren't aware they are being played, he gets to pick and choose groupies like tomatoes at a farmer's market. We were good. Our band was tight. Best friends, drinking buddies, thicker than thieves. But then along comes Charlie and her fascinating notebook that changed everything.”