Remembering Who You Are, Part 9

Doug Sitting in the Shamrock, singing to the Cranberries. July 15 at 10:13pm

This bar holds an infamous place in my history, as it was where I met my ex-husband. But before that, it was just a skeevy Norwood bar that Rosemary and I loved to hang out in, most weekends. And very often, we'd be hanging out with Doug.

I knew Doug from high school, sort of. He went to the technical high school a few towns over, and was a year or two ahead of me, but one of his teachers got a job at my high school, running our fledgling video lab, and this is how we met. He would come in after school to say hello to the teacher, and I would generally be in there playing with the equipment. And, Doug and I would always just be very "conscious" of each other. Sometimes chemistry makes itself known before names make themselves known. But, he and I were just always cosmically misaligned; he was dating someone, I was dating someone, some sort of combination like that. Fast forward to the early 90s, and we meet again, and are able to drink.

He was definitely responsible for my first tequila shot, I can attest to that. I believe I grabbed the end of the table, bug-eyed, and when the bartender came by to collect some bottles from the table next to us, I grabbed his arm, and pointing to Doug, gasped, "the next time he orders me tequila, PUNCH HIM." This night was not at all tequila fueled, just Norwood quantities of Bud Light. Rosemary was being her giggly self, and Doug was very subtly teasing her. It would take her two or three minutes to realize what he said, and she'd say, "DOUGIE!!!" and we'd all laugh. The other great thing about the Shamrock was their jukebox. For a dive bar in Norwood, it had a remarkably fantastic collection of alternative rock. And at one point or another, the Cranberries would come on. Doug LOVED the song "Zombie"; he loved how Dolores did that panting thing in the chorus (did I mention Doug is a pig, in the best way possible? Right. That's important). So there we are, buzzed on Bud Light, singing the Cranberries in this dark bar, with all sorts of suggestive innuendo. It was a great time. I still think of him every time I hear that song; some people just assign themselves to music in your life, and never let go.

Doug features into many other really bizarre memories of mine, with varying levels of "fit to print" status. So, without revealing too much, as a lady never tells (haha), thank you, Doug, for being one of my more enjoyable memories.

Zombie - The Cranberries

MP3 File