Chad is circled. I don't know what the hell he is looking at or why in such an odd manner. I'll be honest, he creeps me out sometimes too.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
"My Name is Chad" and an interview
Another Friday came and the night started early. Chad and I met at the coffee shop on the square, Jackson Avenue around 8 to relax before hitting up our two usual bar spots. Among talk, we met two guys who are going to the local university, one of which is pursuing the same degree as I have, mass communication. He was in the coffee shop with a camera shooting various objects when Chad said something to him, which brought he and his friend over to talk. His friend, James?, talked to Chad while I got acquainted with Pablo, the guy with the camera. We all talked in our little dichotomy until, James? (I'm sticking with it), finally left. Pablo broke away too in order to finish up shooting.
Chad and I returned to whatever the hell it was we were blabbing on about. Just before we were getting ready to leave, Pablo returned to our table to ask us if we would mind going on camera to say why we like coming to the coffee shop since he was shooting a four minute documentary on it. Upon him telling me this, I instantly went back to my own shooting assignments over the last few years and recalling specifically a creative video essay on the coffee joint I shot. What the hell though, it's a good place for shooting and I wasn't going to make myself any more of a pompous, let-me-inform-you-of-what-not-only-we-have-in-common-but-what-I've-already-been-there-done-that prick which I had done when earlier I went out of my way to inform Pablo that I too had shot a documentary last year and was planning on shooting another while in England this summer.
He decided he would interview me first, in which I took his lav mic and placed it appropriately under and up my shirt on my lapel, purposely reaffirming my "knowledge", and absent need of his help. After I cleverly commented that he could white balance off my almost completely white long sleeve shirt, he began recording and a few seconds later, I was done. Then it was Chad's turn.
He followed my lead, taking the lav up through his shirt but upon placing it on his lapel, asked, "Do you wanted this pointed at my mouth or my voice?" Pablo looked at the mic, which was placed appropriately, and reassured Chad it was okay. He framed the shot and started recording. Chad blurted out his answer and we were done, or so we thought.
Pablo then asked if we would mind shooting another quick interview, just a one-line sentence beginning with, "I like coming to Jackson Avenue Coffee because...". Easy, no biggie. He explained he was going to put a dozen or so of these shots at the end next to his scrolling credits, a nice idea. He started with Chad since he was still mic'd.
Pablo hit record and Chad was on. And on. And, well, on, still without a coherent word said, just "um, uh," and then finally, "well, I don't know." Chad hesitated and um'd for another minute or so until Pablo interrupted him along with me, the two of us further reassuring him that this wasn't that hard.
Pablo hit record again, and Chad finally managed to say, "I like coming to Jackson Avenue because it's relaxing."Pablo stopped the camera to what I'm sure was his relief but giving Chad a thumbs up. I, on the other hand had to note how he didn't include "Coffee" in the tag line after having a five minute warm up. Chad paused, thought about it, and then replied, "Shit, do you want me to do it again?" I laughed, knowing that was the last thing Pablo wanted. Instead, he politely declined, telling Chad he did fine, and then mic'd me up again. A minute later we were finished.
About this time we decided to head over to our first barstop of the night, Rocs and meet my two friends Jake and Danny, two other English majors. When we arrived, they were in the back in a booth. Learning that they weren't serving people back in that area, we went back up to the bar to order. I ordered a Sam Adams, which had already been changed over to the summer pick since the week prior. Upon hearing the bartender tell me this, Chad informed her that it was still spring. She looked over at him with her arms in the air, "I don't know, I just serve it, our distributor brought it."
She then asked what she could get for Chad. "What dark beers other than newcastle do you have?" She admitted she wasn't up on her beer selection and that she was unsure. Chad opted for his NewCastle and after getting it, stood back against the wall. She went to go grab something for Jake and Danny who had ordered but hadn't yet taken Chad's money. "Is she not going to charge me?" he asked. "Yes, get your money out." By this time she had returned and told Chad his total. "Cash or card," she asked. Chad fumbled around long enough to suggest to her that he didn't have any money so she then proposed he could give her his ID, just something personal that could be traced back to him in case he decided to leave without paying.
Chad, however, didn't understand this. Instead, he replied rather happily, "Oh, well, I'm Chad," thinking that was good enough for collateral. The three of us still standing, waiting for Chad to pay, looked at one another and just laughed.
Aware that she was losing her patience with my friend though, I held back any further laughter and hurried Chad to give her money or something other than just his name to which he seemed to have an A-HA moment. He quickly paid her and the four of us returned to the booth in the back, cackling on.
***Unfortunately, I didn't finish this segment until Tuesday evening, and as a result, have forgotten too much of the remainder of Friday night to continue on without complete fabrication. This Friday we will be out again though, with not only Jake but also my friend John and Agatha; needless to say, things should be as interesting if not more than any other Friday night with Chad. I'll make sure to get the events I'm sure all 15 people reading this will just be dying to read in blog form by Saturday evening. Talk to you then.
Btw, Keith, narcissism isn't cool anymore.
Chad and I returned to whatever the hell it was we were blabbing on about. Just before we were getting ready to leave, Pablo returned to our table to ask us if we would mind going on camera to say why we like coming to the coffee shop since he was shooting a four minute documentary on it. Upon him telling me this, I instantly went back to my own shooting assignments over the last few years and recalling specifically a creative video essay on the coffee joint I shot. What the hell though, it's a good place for shooting and I wasn't going to make myself any more of a pompous, let-me-inform-you-of-what-not-only-we-have-in-common-but-what-I've-already-been-there-done-that prick which I had done when earlier I went out of my way to inform Pablo that I too had shot a documentary last year and was planning on shooting another while in England this summer.
He decided he would interview me first, in which I took his lav mic and placed it appropriately under and up my shirt on my lapel, purposely reaffirming my "knowledge", and absent need of his help. After I cleverly commented that he could white balance off my almost completely white long sleeve shirt, he began recording and a few seconds later, I was done. Then it was Chad's turn.
He followed my lead, taking the lav up through his shirt but upon placing it on his lapel, asked, "Do you wanted this pointed at my mouth or my voice?" Pablo looked at the mic, which was placed appropriately, and reassured Chad it was okay. He framed the shot and started recording. Chad blurted out his answer and we were done, or so we thought.
Pablo then asked if we would mind shooting another quick interview, just a one-line sentence beginning with, "I like coming to Jackson Avenue Coffee because...". Easy, no biggie. He explained he was going to put a dozen or so of these shots at the end next to his scrolling credits, a nice idea. He started with Chad since he was still mic'd.
Pablo hit record and Chad was on. And on. And, well, on, still without a coherent word said, just "um, uh," and then finally, "well, I don't know." Chad hesitated and um'd for another minute or so until Pablo interrupted him along with me, the two of us further reassuring him that this wasn't that hard.
Pablo hit record again, and Chad finally managed to say, "I like coming to Jackson Avenue because it's relaxing."Pablo stopped the camera to what I'm sure was his relief but giving Chad a thumbs up. I, on the other hand had to note how he didn't include "Coffee" in the tag line after having a five minute warm up. Chad paused, thought about it, and then replied, "Shit, do you want me to do it again?" I laughed, knowing that was the last thing Pablo wanted. Instead, he politely declined, telling Chad he did fine, and then mic'd me up again. A minute later we were finished.
About this time we decided to head over to our first barstop of the night, Rocs and meet my two friends Jake and Danny, two other English majors. When we arrived, they were in the back in a booth. Learning that they weren't serving people back in that area, we went back up to the bar to order. I ordered a Sam Adams, which had already been changed over to the summer pick since the week prior. Upon hearing the bartender tell me this, Chad informed her that it was still spring. She looked over at him with her arms in the air, "I don't know, I just serve it, our distributor brought it."
She then asked what she could get for Chad. "What dark beers other than newcastle do you have?" She admitted she wasn't up on her beer selection and that she was unsure. Chad opted for his NewCastle and after getting it, stood back against the wall. She went to go grab something for Jake and Danny who had ordered but hadn't yet taken Chad's money. "Is she not going to charge me?" he asked. "Yes, get your money out." By this time she had returned and told Chad his total. "Cash or card," she asked. Chad fumbled around long enough to suggest to her that he didn't have any money so she then proposed he could give her his ID, just something personal that could be traced back to him in case he decided to leave without paying.
Chad, however, didn't understand this. Instead, he replied rather happily, "Oh, well, I'm Chad," thinking that was good enough for collateral. The three of us still standing, waiting for Chad to pay, looked at one another and just laughed.
Aware that she was losing her patience with my friend though, I held back any further laughter and hurried Chad to give her money or something other than just his name to which he seemed to have an A-HA moment. He quickly paid her and the four of us returned to the booth in the back, cackling on.
***Unfortunately, I didn't finish this segment until Tuesday evening, and as a result, have forgotten too much of the remainder of Friday night to continue on without complete fabrication. This Friday we will be out again though, with not only Jake but also my friend John and Agatha; needless to say, things should be as interesting if not more than any other Friday night with Chad. I'll make sure to get the events I'm sure all 15 people reading this will just be dying to read in blog form by Saturday evening. Talk to you then.
Btw, Keith, narcissism isn't cool anymore.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Friday Night with Chad
Friday night means our own miniature bar crawl spanning no more than a block and a half of a small town square. Nonetheless, Chad and I went to the first bar, Rocs where I asked for my usual Blue Moon and a side of orange juice and he asked what the draft special was, to which the very nice female bartender replied, "We don't have bar specials up here, sorry guys." I was sort of pissed really. I even told him before that I didn't think they had specials but he asked anyways and dragged me into his cohort, causing everyone around us, including the cute girls sitting to my left to, no doubt, see us as a few schoolboys who never had a drink in our lives.
I brushed it off though and we continued our oh-so-intellectual little conversation over J.D. Salinger and some theses we both had been working on, perhaps to compensate for the bar special comment. I took the seasonal Sam Adams next and Chad, a Blue Moon in which after receiving the bottle, the smaller than usual glass (which is actually typical at this bar anyways) and adorned with an orange slice, he complained of fearing he looked like a girl and openly contemplated just drinking from the bottle. After I reassured him he didn't look like a girl, he opted for the glass and the orange slice.
Somewhere during our conversation, one of those cute girls interrupted, damn near yelling I'm sure due to her being very sober, "Hey, he wants your hamburger, he's eyeing it!" Her other cute friend turned and jokingly remarked how she wasn't a good sharer to which we both sat there like six year olds with dunce caps on and mumbled like the typical comparison to cavemen.
After finishing our second round and establishing that the cute girls were probably finished flirting, if you could even call it that, we set out for the second and last half of our miniature bar crawl, The Towner. Now, there is sort of a hierarchy involved between the bars on the square. Rocs is the classiest bar without compromising its welcomeness to college students and intellectuals. Almost like a dark, film-noir style Cheers and with a more dynamic assortment of patrons. The Towner equals hipster and, well, towny and if there was ever a night that was any more evident it was this night.
Turk, a very large, very pleasant Turkish man who is the staple bouncer greeted me and then asked for Chad's ID. We walked in and I ordered a Bud Light bottle since here there were specials, $2 domestic bottles. Chad stepped up next. The bartender asked what he wanted, Chad hesitated, mumbled something, causing confusion both in him and the bartender and finally settled on PBR. The bartender walked away smirking and looking at me.
We walked around to a pool table we had played at the Friday night before, somewhat off and secluded from the other two. Four games, three me and one Chad (in which one was by default due to his knocking in the 8 prematurely) and we walked back up to the front to sit and finish our beers, perhaps the greatest move of the night.
Sitting not for even five minutes, a large black woman, whom we had heard throughout the night had been celebrating her birthday, plopped herself next to Chad, damn near shoving him into the wall. I think we were both stupefied but rolled with it. Thankfully she wasn't interested in me but in Chad. I really didn't hear much but it didn't really matter, you could tell she was flirting with him, all 200 + pounds, three missing teeth and loud laugh, inching closer and closer to Chad. Before erupting in my own loud laughter I jumped up and ran off to the bathroom, cackling all the way.
I came back somewhat to my relief to see the woman was no longer sitting at the table. Rejoining Chad, I asked him what had happened. He told me it was her birthday and how she turned 57. Then, out of nowhere (somehow), she reappeared, laughing and roaring about. We stood up at this point along with the lights being turned on, signaling the bar was soon to close.
"You're absolutely delectable!" she said to Chad, clinging onto him. "Give me a hug." As the two embraced like what should have been an awkward mother and son but was something I can't quite express, she kissed him on the neck. I lost it, turned around and started for the door, hearing behind me the woman tell Chad to be careful.
As Chad began to follow, so did the woman. Before walking out of the Towner, she asked him for some money. He hesitated to answer but she burst out in what was perhaps the biggest laugh of the night, and approached me, "He's so naive! He's SO NAIVE! How come he's so naive? Are you his brother? How come he's so naive?" I told her no, we weren't brothers, that I had known him for a long time and that I didn't know. We both laughed and pointed at Chad and then Chad and I made for the door. She deciding that her attachment to the remainder of her drink was more important than her recent infatuation with Chad stayed behind to both our relief.
We walked back to our cars, laughing and talking briefly about a cute redhead we had seen. We bid each other a goodnight and left the square.
This morning Chad texted me, telling me the birthday woman had also told him within five minutes of meeting him that he had reminded her of her son. I am just realizing the multiple problems with this: 1) Chad is very white and she is very black 2) If he reminded her of her son, and she later kissed his neck and called him delectable...yeah.
Km .S
I brushed it off though and we continued our oh-so-intellectual little conversation over J.D. Salinger and some theses we both had been working on, perhaps to compensate for the bar special comment. I took the seasonal Sam Adams next and Chad, a Blue Moon in which after receiving the bottle, the smaller than usual glass (which is actually typical at this bar anyways) and adorned with an orange slice, he complained of fearing he looked like a girl and openly contemplated just drinking from the bottle. After I reassured him he didn't look like a girl, he opted for the glass and the orange slice.
Somewhere during our conversation, one of those cute girls interrupted, damn near yelling I'm sure due to her being very sober, "Hey, he wants your hamburger, he's eyeing it!" Her other cute friend turned and jokingly remarked how she wasn't a good sharer to which we both sat there like six year olds with dunce caps on and mumbled like the typical comparison to cavemen.
After finishing our second round and establishing that the cute girls were probably finished flirting, if you could even call it that, we set out for the second and last half of our miniature bar crawl, The Towner. Now, there is sort of a hierarchy involved between the bars on the square. Rocs is the classiest bar without compromising its welcomeness to college students and intellectuals. Almost like a dark, film-noir style Cheers and with a more dynamic assortment of patrons. The Towner equals hipster and, well, towny and if there was ever a night that was any more evident it was this night.
Turk, a very large, very pleasant Turkish man who is the staple bouncer greeted me and then asked for Chad's ID. We walked in and I ordered a Bud Light bottle since here there were specials, $2 domestic bottles. Chad stepped up next. The bartender asked what he wanted, Chad hesitated, mumbled something, causing confusion both in him and the bartender and finally settled on PBR. The bartender walked away smirking and looking at me.
We walked around to a pool table we had played at the Friday night before, somewhat off and secluded from the other two. Four games, three me and one Chad (in which one was by default due to his knocking in the 8 prematurely) and we walked back up to the front to sit and finish our beers, perhaps the greatest move of the night.
Sitting not for even five minutes, a large black woman, whom we had heard throughout the night had been celebrating her birthday, plopped herself next to Chad, damn near shoving him into the wall. I think we were both stupefied but rolled with it. Thankfully she wasn't interested in me but in Chad. I really didn't hear much but it didn't really matter, you could tell she was flirting with him, all 200 + pounds, three missing teeth and loud laugh, inching closer and closer to Chad. Before erupting in my own loud laughter I jumped up and ran off to the bathroom, cackling all the way.
I came back somewhat to my relief to see the woman was no longer sitting at the table. Rejoining Chad, I asked him what had happened. He told me it was her birthday and how she turned 57. Then, out of nowhere (somehow), she reappeared, laughing and roaring about. We stood up at this point along with the lights being turned on, signaling the bar was soon to close.
"You're absolutely delectable!" she said to Chad, clinging onto him. "Give me a hug." As the two embraced like what should have been an awkward mother and son but was something I can't quite express, she kissed him on the neck. I lost it, turned around and started for the door, hearing behind me the woman tell Chad to be careful.
As Chad began to follow, so did the woman. Before walking out of the Towner, she asked him for some money. He hesitated to answer but she burst out in what was perhaps the biggest laugh of the night, and approached me, "He's so naive! He's SO NAIVE! How come he's so naive? Are you his brother? How come he's so naive?" I told her no, we weren't brothers, that I had known him for a long time and that I didn't know. We both laughed and pointed at Chad and then Chad and I made for the door. She deciding that her attachment to the remainder of her drink was more important than her recent infatuation with Chad stayed behind to both our relief.
We walked back to our cars, laughing and talking briefly about a cute redhead we had seen. We bid each other a goodnight and left the square.
This morning Chad texted me, telling me the birthday woman had also told him within five minutes of meeting him that he had reminded her of her son. I am just realizing the multiple problems with this: 1) Chad is very white and she is very black 2) If he reminded her of her son, and she later kissed his neck and called him delectable...yeah.
Km .S
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