Wednesday, June 24, 2009


I met up with Brett Vaida and his friends some time after 11pm on Tuesday. I left my things in my car and went with him and his roommates back to the bar right down the block. This bar is called the 49r, and according to them, Connor Oberst used to hang out there before he got famous. As they finished their pitcher and I nursed my vodka-cran-mostly-vodka, they told me all about their relationship with the bar (also a venue, the Super Colliders – their band- play there), and about the area of Omaha we were in. The neighborhood is called Dundee, and apparently, it stretches in its nice hipsterness until Saddle Creek Blvd (?), at which time it becomes the ghetto.

At about 1, the bar closed, so we went back to their apartment and drank a bit more. We alternated between the couches inside and the porch outside, depending on if they felt like smoking or not. I gushed over their boxer, Jackson. I rubbed his ears and kissed his face and pulled on his jowls. I did this until we all went upstairs so Will could show us something on the computer.

I then heard that tell-tale noise that says “stay away from this dog’s mouth.”

Toilet drinker. Gross.

The next day, responding to Brett’s roommate (Dirty Dan)’s joke about having to work for my stay, I raided the fridge and made bacon and eggs. I was given permission to do this.

Brett had to work (in a sushi bar of the Whole Foods?) so I went with Will and Dirty Dan to a “recording studio” several blocks away. Before driving to the studio, we drove to a vintage store several blocks in the other direction – Scout Dry Goods. I bought a dress.

Apparently, no one ever walks anywhere in Omaha.

Dirty Dan informed me that the kid we were going to meet was blind, because he was diabetic. Also, Dirty Dan informed me that he likes to pick on said kid because of this.

So we drive over to a different kid’s house. This kid is small and looks like a Connor Oberst fan. He is attractive, from Detroit, and clearly dating the plain, attractive, red haired girl who would occasionally stroke his arm.

The blind kid, whose name escapes me, might as well be from Blink 182. He has a lip ring, and a ridiculous California – Surfer- Duuude accent that seems supremely out of place in Omaha. He is a really nice guy.

We get nothing done. We listen to three or four of his songs, most likely inspired by Blink-182. It is decided that what is needed is not Will’s guitar, but a few random notes by some other instrument. We sit on the front porch and everybody smokes. I do the smoke detector. Just kidding.

A light haired lanky kid bounces from off the street. “Do you still know how to fix MacBooks?” he inquires of Detroit Boy.

This lanky kid has an amazing Nebraska bicep tattoo.

Disgusting songs are played on laptops and Dirty Dan discusses how he would really like to hit a bird with his car. I tell him a story about being small, and my mom hitting a bird.

She screamed into both hands, and my father had to grab the wheel.

Apparently, this desire is spawned by a story Dan heard a comic tell. Apparently this comic saw a hobo punch a bird out of the air. Perhaps you’ve heard this skit? It is apparently true.

This is foreshadowing.

Dirty Dan wants to go home, Will has to pick up his friend Bre, and I want to check out the shopping area, so we part ways. Later, I get a call from Will and meet up with him and Bre. We go to the Saddle Creek complex. (This is a new building created for the record label. Their apartments and offices are above, with their favorite shops, a venue, and a movie theater below). We go into the American Apparel. Bre is now modeling for them, and they are going to use one of her pictures on their website. They are giving her gift certificates for this.

Bre is a tall, attractive girl, whose looks would generally be dubbed “exotic,” meaning: Not strictly of European, Black, or Asian descendence.

Bre asks the kid working the counter how much she has spent there. Her total is over $600 since December.

We go to the coffee shop in the Saddle Creek Complex. On the door is a smattering of gig posters. I comment on the design of a Connor Oberst one. “I went out with him” Bre says quietly, to herself...sort of blushing. This is so bizarre to me, but I am in Omaha, and this girl is a model, so I believe her. She says this was when she was 19, and she is 25 now. She says he used to live with her friends. I think she said she asked him to make out.

“That only works for me half the time,” I tell her.

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