The best thing a girl, or anyone for that matter, can have is a porch. A porch can serve so many different purposes. It can be a meeting place for neighbors or a way to get out of the apartment without leaving the safety of your building. It can be an observation deck, from which I've spent many an evening watching passersby stumble home after a night of drinking and debauchery. It can be a place to drink with friends without getting a citation for public intoxication. Last night Elise and I turned my porch into a time portal.
The night started out like any other night, with a couple of beers. I acquired an extension cord and brought my laptop downstairs for the purpose of providing us with some relaxing porch music. I lost the greater portion of my music collection when my external hard drive decided to break, but I've been replenishing it slowly. I selected Sublime, and turned it to half volume so that I was able to fully listen to Elise regale me with news of her foray into online dating.
We spoke for a while, drinking Blue Moon and laughing, watching people come home from the bars. A couple was saying goodbye directly in front of the house, leaning up against the car, and kissing, completely oblivous of their whispering and giggling audience. I felt it was appropriate to give them some background music, so I turned up the volume on "Caress Me Down". A few dirty looks later, the girl got into the car and drove away, and the guy turned around and walked home.
Maybe it was the beer, or maybe it was the heat, but little by little, the conversation turned to the music and a much-too-familiar game of "Ooh, do you remember this song?" Somewhere into the 90s, Elise and I were both on our feet dancing and jumping around and twirling each other and doing that move where you hold opposite hands and drop down and touch the ground with the other (usually performed to a Salt n' Peppa song). We performed every move in the book, including ballet moves that resembled more something out of Stuart sketch than Swan Lake, tap buffaloes, and the sprinkler.
All my inhibitions flew out the window, and I wasn't even drunk. I felt like I was under some Bacchanalian spell. I just wanted to dance. I didn't care who saw, in fact, we waved and greeted anyone who walked by the porch. That porch... that wonderful, amazing porch. That porch ported us back to a time when summer was easy and carefree, when all you needed was music and a good friend, to a time when there were no responsibilities, when summer meant freedom. That porch turned us into kids again for one glorious night, and the two of us partied like it was 1999!