We walked from there. The buildings were a rhythm section, we were solo fills and horn hits. Jammy was dancing with random women on the sidewalk, twirling past them and kissing them on the hands. Everything was falling into place like a grand orchestration.
(15:51:49. Foundations by The Beautiful South from their album Blue Is The Colour.)
As we walked back to the garage, a calico cat jumped from a fence and in front of Aitchy.
"Wha' you wan', little kitten? You want food?" Aitchy bent forward and pursed his lips, making a clicking noise.
Cunningham coughed. "C'mon, man. I've gotta meet someone soon."
"Hold up a tick, aight? I've got a kitty kitty here. 'Ave ya got a home little kitty? I could use a kitty."
Jammy bent down and jingled the little bell and collar that hung from the cat's neck. "Looks like she probably belongs to one of the Latinos around here. C'mon, Aitch."
As we continued on, Aitch looked back. The cat cleaned itself and then lept back into the alley.
(15:54:34. The Bumblebee Tuna Song performed by Mephiskapheles from their album God Bless Satan)
Back home I realized that I was, indeed, rather hungry.
Here's what I do with tuna fish: press the water out with the lid of the can, dump out the fish into a small Tupperware container, mix in some Miracle Whip, sweet relish, and chopped jalapeños. Sometimes I stuff it all between two slices of oat nut and devour, but on Saturdays I eat it straight from the container while sitting in the window and taking in the sunny peace of the city.
By the time I finished my tuna, the clock chimed four o'clock exactly. Had it only really been an hour? Had we done too much or too little? It was our perfect sucking funny day, and it would repeat itself through the years until all of us were too tired to lift a longneck.
At least, that was the plan.