That’s my wife

I had three pints too quick and the next thing I knew my phone alarm was going off. “Oh shit I gotta go feed the meter.” “Cool, see you soon.” I kissed her on the cheek and headed for the door. On my way out I ran into that guy from the homecare union. “Hey!” I could never remember his name. “Dude!” He high-fived me, “hey man good to see you! I figured you’d be here, what with the Methadones and all.” “Yeah I fucking love that band.” “You going out to smoke?” “Nah I don’t smoke. I gotta feed the meter. Couldn’t find anywhere else and I don’t want to get a ticket.” “That’s some bullshit.” “Yeah.” “Well hey fuck it I’ll walk with you, I haven’t seen you in a hot minute.” “Alright, cool, so what’s going in?” We walk down Belmont. He tells me about some changes to home health care legislation and about how his co-workers want to form a union of union employees and we come up on Clark. “Fuck dude I’m sorry we went the wrong way, I’m kinda drunk honestly.” “It’s cool, the opening band sucks anyway.” We walk back to Sheffield and I can’t remember if I parked north or south. My face shows it. “You do remember where you parked, right?” “Uh. Maybe?” I pick south, there it is, Fletcher, that’s where I parked. The name isn’t what does it, I recognize that red ten speed chained to the fence. I plunk my quarters into the meter and we walk back to the club. “I’m super sorry about this, you could of ditched me and headed back.” “Really it’s cool, it’s nice to catch up.” “Thanks.” “I’m gonna split when we get back though, I’m trying to hook up with this girl, she’s interning as a researcher at the union, she’s really cool and really hot. She said she’d be at the show tonight and I’m always into it when girls are into punk.” “Alright. Good luck. Did I tell you I got married?” “No shit?!” “No shit. Just like three weeks ago.” “Fuckin’ A! Congratulations!” “Thanks. It’s cool. I mean, it’s a lot like living together, but I dunno, different somehow too. I’m still getting used to saying I’m married and using the word ‘wife.’” “I bet.” “My wife’s really, really still getting used to saying the word ‘husband’.” “Oh for sure. That stuff’s different for girls. Err, women, I guess.” “Totally.” We flash our wristbands to the bouncer and walk back in. I can hear the opening chords to Save Your Generation. “Oh shit they’re already on.” “Hey I’m gonna go look for that girl, good to see you!” “Yeah dude you too!” Union guy walks off and I head into the hall. My wife’s up at the front, holding on to the fence in front of the stage. I love that she likes to stand at the front even though she’s so tiny. I walk up and there’s two guys standing close to her. Too close. I put my arm on her and she jumps, turns quickly, sees me and kisses me hard, with tongue. She breaks off and leans to my ear “where the fuck were you? that took like half an hour.” “I got lost. I’m kinda drunk.” “Whatever.” “Did I miss much?” “They just started. The opening band sucked.” She turns back to watching the band. They finish Save Your Generation and launch into TV World. I look to my right and in the crush of the crowd the guys next to us are literally leaning on my wife. I realize through the beer fog that they’re crowding her because they want to take her spot at the front, it’s classic jockeying for position at a show, trying to get the spot right by the stage. Fuck that. Dudes look to be maybe 18. When the band finishes TV World I tap the shoulder of the kid closest to us. He gives me his best punk don’t give a fuck apathy frown. “Hey.” “What?” I point, “that’s my wife.” I hold up my hand, point to my wedding ring. His eyes get wide, his mouth falls open a little.“Uh…” “So take a step back.” “Oh. Uh, okay.” He take a big step back. I step into the space, kiss the top of my wife’s hair. “Hey.” “What?” she says. “Being married is cool.” She smiles, kisses me on the cheek. The band starts a new song.