"Why are you yelling?"
"Spuds' band. It's so (i)loud(i)."
"LOOK, YOU'RE A CUPCAKE MOM, NOT A HYPOCRITE OR A FAKE."
The band wound arms and instruments up into achieving fifth gear and suddenly stopped. (i)OR A FAKE(i) hung in the air just as awkward as everything in flux.
"HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING AT MY WIFE?!?"
"I'M A GIRL JERK!"
People looked into their Solo cups.
"Where'd everybody go?"
"Girl shouldn't have a crew cut my ass."
"Keg ran out. People went for six packs etcetera."
"Wait. There's something wrong here."
"What do you mean Kay? Beer's gone, politicians are gone, and us girls are on our own. Pretty typical."
"Yeah, but she said we're not fake."
One woman fluffed some curls near her ear. "Ouch," said the short-haired girl.
"It's like there's no balance these days. People are hot and cold all in like two minutes."
"Cocaine brain. That's what a shrink I know calls it."
"And they don't want any input. Leaves us out in the cold."
"I really don't know where all of this is going."
"That's why I'm bucking the system. I'm going to vote for 'W'."
"Really?"
"He's actually the most sensible of all them all right now. Stands up for his values and family, but doesn't ignore the cold hard truth that most of the world doesn't give two hoots about little young America."
"Sounding awfully patriotic."
"For what it's worth, (i)I am a patriot(i)."
"You don't always seem that way."
"Honey, a girl's got to get good at going with the flow and gettin' out of dodge."
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