A few summers ago, I was with G at the crappy art museum Summer Solstice. It was packed, hot, and we were both annoyed (he was far more outspoken about it). With a few cans of Old Style in his backpack, we decided to head out and drink as many people were drinking outside. Why couldn't we? We ended up at Oak Street Beach since it was close (sorry for that suggestion). We sat in a dark corner, drinking beer and watching loud teens cavort on the rocks. Bright lights came from behind us. The cops asked what we were doing out there drinking. I said I was bummed out about losing a temp job and not sure if I would make rent (half-truth - I wasn't that upset b/c I lived with my brother). OK. G crabbily squawked about being at the Summer Solstice and how crappy it was. They ticketed him for which he had to go to court and the ticket said something about a can of Old Style. I didn't get a ticket. G wouldn't talk to me for a long time after that that night. ha ha

- Melina Paez