Fuck Yeah Phish

Yeah, I remember the first time I saw Trey at a bar. It was a pinnacle moment of my life. I’ll never forget walking up to those flowing red locks, sitting down next to him and ordering a Mai Thai. He gave me a glance from the side and gave me a nod and a smirk. The kind of nod and smirk that says, ‘that’s my kind of man.’ My drink was only half-slid across the bar counter before Trey started to pipe up with his opiate-crackled robust voice. ‘You come here often?’ I took a single sip of my Mai Thai. ‘You must be a libra’, I retorted, with masculinity. That’s when we got to talking. We laughed, we cried. I told him of the day my dog died; he told me of the day he got his first DUI. It must have been 4 or 5 Mai Thais before I first decided to pop the big question. ‘So’, I recited, between drags of my cigarette, “How about Alaska > Wading tonight?”

Trey busted out a sly chuckle, and the rest was history: 12/31/11