Apologies for the long absence.
A few things to note, quickly: Say hello to Mike, my newest contributor. A wandering ronin (redundant?), Mike travels from town to town, fighting off the shackled of injustice with stylistic hair choices and biting wit. Well, I guess that's one thing to note. That's about all I have for news at the moment.
Our setting: a Target parking lot in the Savage/Burnsville area. It might have been Lake-Something-Or-Other, I don't know.
Our characters: Your loveable protagonist, me; Thumbs Up Guy.
We arrived at the Target store at roughly eight p.m. Trevor, tipped off from Mr. Diggle's parents (his name really isn't Mr. Diggle. That's just to protect the innocent), is searching for a friend from college, and along for the ride are Mike, Nique, and myself. Being the generous friend she is, Nique was driving us around. As we were pulling into the parking lot, however, a... sage in a red corvette pulled up next to us, and proceeded to give us a rigorous and well-executed series of enthusiastic thumbs-up.
An aside: how do you pluralize "thumbs-up?" Comments welcome.
Regardless, it was clear to me that Thumbs Up Guy had secrets; his knowledge of forbidden arts and tricks obvious. Locking eyes, I knew I would be his pupil, him my master. Unfortunately, no one in the car shared this sentiment. Reasons given for not following Thumbs Up Guy were legion, most notably some sort of traffic law violation for lane changing.
I was never one for the rules.
Mr. Diggle, our intended target (huzzah! A pun.), was indeed not present at this store, so the group decided to seek him elsewhere. I was not so easily swayed. Betrayed by those who call themselves my friends, I struck out on my own. Mainly because they left without me.
Alone and cold in a Target parking lot, I began to methodically plan my search for Thumbs Up Guy. My plan basically involved me walking in a general direction until I found him. Confident and eager for knowledge, I walked for what seemed like hours, through mud, snow, and water. It was then I had a revelation: I was over-zealous in my searching; it was foolhardy to think I could find Thumbs Up Guy alone. I asked for help. Verbatim:
"Excuse me, sir? If I were to walk in this general direction, would I find Thumbs Up Guy?"
"It's cold out, son."
Obviously, the elderly man was one of them. The Matrix only wanted him to not help me, I don't blame him in particular. Walking further proved futile, as sidewalk gave way to mud and impassable terrain. Dejected, I turned back. When I returned to the parking lot, there were no signs on a yellow car anywhere. Left to my own devices, they expected me to fail. I would not give in to their will.
I began to walk again, this time in the direction of Shakopee, a good 20 miles away. By my estimate, I could have made it there with mild frostbite. Again, I quested ever onward, until finally the sidewalk again gave out, and I was alone. Sensing help, I tried to flag down a passing police vehicle, who in response menacingly flashed his lights at me and sped away. To serve and protect, indeed.
Not content to go quietly into that black night, I fought the encroaching darkness with all my willpower, but eventually, it overpowered me. Delirious, I began to give everyone a thumbs up, as I was taught to do by my master, and dreamlike, I saw a light. Walking slowly towards it, my resolve grew. My strength returned. A fountain of youth! Unbeknownst to me, I was walking directly back to the parking lot. It was there that I met up with the rest of the group, who may or may not have scolded me for leaving.
That was friday.
Saturday was spent reading David Lapham's Stray Bullets, an oft-depressing but deeply engrossing series. A series of bells and whistles, positioned at strategic locations around my brain began to go off. Dangerous Darrin is close, I thought to myself. Checking the internet, my premonitions were confirmed. Burky T had said Goldfinger was coming to town. I had but to believe.
Four 14 dollars, you can't go wrong. We arrived for the final two songs of the opening band, City Sleeps. I do not shed tears for City Sleeps, as they were completely uninspired, and generally ignored by the crowd. Abbey and Trevor decided to search First Avenue, as this was their first visit. I'm an old hand here. My name is whispered with reverance when I pass. The second band, The Start, was actually a fun listen. The lead singer, a precocious female whose name I didn't get when I met her, stared at me most of the set. I was flattered.
By now, we had worked our way to the front of the hall. We had a choice of what to watch in the interim between bands: On the one hand, we had a projector playing The Animatrix. On the other, we have a projector playing WWE Royal Rumble. We talked amongst ourselves.
Goldfinger came out, and words cannot describe the next hour of my life. Jumping, moshing, singing, screaming, loving. Verbs all applicable. "Dangerous" Darrin Pfeiffer, cult hero for my group of friends, eventually stage-dove into the crowd, landing right in front of me. Shocked and paniced, I grabbed his head and shouted "I love you, Darrin!" He replied likewise, and was pulled onto the stage for more rocking. Abbey got one of his drumsticks. She is lucky.
Now, I'm tired. 'Tis late, and I guess more visitors are in town to see me/see whoever. Burky T and I clashed in the epic battle that was fated by the gods, and when we used our best characters, I emerged victorious. We weren't rocking what we normally rock, disc-wise, but I think I did okay. He won most, partly because he was practicing, partly because he had home-field advantage, partly because I was tired.
It is not over.
Rumors and speculation abound that Anton may be joining us tomorrow. We shall see to this, then!
