Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Everything Must Belong Somewhere
He's sitting there staring at me. Actually, it's been so long I'm not sure if he's staring at me or through me by now. Regardless, he is starting in my direction whether it's at my face or the city scene behind me. I don't think anyone has spoken in fifteen minutes. I can't be sure though. The time scale is different tonight. A minute feels like an hour and this particular hour feels like an eternity. Maybe it has been an eternity. Maybe an eternity has came and passed and I am now in hell. I am now in hell sitting to the left of my past and the right of my potential future. Well, actually it's in front of and to the left, but that's hardly relevant. Maybe Hell specializes in presenting metaphorical situations and I'm supposed to be figuring out the irony of all of this to come to some existential realization, but I can't because I am in hell. And although hell looks amazingly like a waffle house restaurant, I am not fooled. God hates me. It's better that I know this now.
"Are you guys ready to order yet?"
I looked up. Apparently they still have waitresses in hell. Servants. They must have done something worse than I did. Maybe I'll ask her about it.
"No, I'm about to leave." He answers without so much as blinking. The servant rolls her eyes pointedly and walks away. There goes my chance to ask her. Maybe it's better this way. Maybe it's better I don't know. It seems like I'll be here for a while. Maybe I'll just compile a list of questions to ask for later. I knew I should have grabbed the crayons at the hostess station when they were readily available. I don't usually carry pens around with me.
He turned his eyes away from me and settles them on the man to my right. Still no one is saying anything and this feels like a real life duel. I'm waiting for them both to step out of the booth and begin counting ten steps in the opposite direction of each other. Do they allow guns in hell? By the way, where is all the fire? Wait, is the fire supposed to be a metaphor also? Hell is tricky.
"She falls asleep to Death Cab not Sigur Ros."
"Excuse me?" The man to my right asked. It was then that it occurred to me that while the man in front of and to the left of myself took his eyes off me to look at the man to my right, my eyes never left his.
"Sometimes she'll tell you she falls asleep to the parenthesis album, but it's always Death Cab. Halfway through Sigus Ros she has to get up to put in "Transatlanticism" because she focuses so much on the words that it puts her to sleep." He kept going as if a question had never been asked. "She thinks Northstar is more profound than Radiohead and that Conor Oberst is a better song writer than Elliot Smith. She prefers Brand New over Taking Back Sunday unless you're comparing both of their first albums and the first albums only, then she'll choose Taking Back Sunday because they're more passionate and she likes it when they scream. She puts in Motion City Soundtrack when she feels like dancing and The early November when she feels like crying. The Jealous Sound is in her CD player at all time. She thinks that Geoff Rickly and that dude from Jimmy Eat World are the only ones who truly get her." As he stopped speaking he looked away. He partially opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it quickly. I'm not sure if it's vanity speaking or not, but I'm fairly sure the she he was referring to was me. Of course I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but I have been quoted many times on saying how Thursday understood me more than most people I know personally. I'm just saying.
"Don't fuck it up." On that note, Pete then walked out of the restaurant and out of my life. At least I think so. I wonder if he walked out of hell as well. Remind me to write that down.
Zak turned to me as if for an explanation as to what just happened. I threw my hands into the air to let him know that I was just as in the dark as he was. He looked at me disapprovingly. Now would be a good time to get those crayons. If I didn't get these questions onto paper I was sure to forget them.
"Are you guys ready to order yet?"
I looked up. Apparently they still have waitresses in hell. Servants. They must have done something worse than I did. Maybe I'll ask her about it.
"No, I'm about to leave." He answers without so much as blinking. The servant rolls her eyes pointedly and walks away. There goes my chance to ask her. Maybe it's better this way. Maybe it's better I don't know. It seems like I'll be here for a while. Maybe I'll just compile a list of questions to ask for later. I knew I should have grabbed the crayons at the hostess station when they were readily available. I don't usually carry pens around with me.
He turned his eyes away from me and settles them on the man to my right. Still no one is saying anything and this feels like a real life duel. I'm waiting for them both to step out of the booth and begin counting ten steps in the opposite direction of each other. Do they allow guns in hell? By the way, where is all the fire? Wait, is the fire supposed to be a metaphor also? Hell is tricky.
"She falls asleep to Death Cab not Sigur Ros."
"Excuse me?" The man to my right asked. It was then that it occurred to me that while the man in front of and to the left of myself took his eyes off me to look at the man to my right, my eyes never left his.
"Sometimes she'll tell you she falls asleep to the parenthesis album, but it's always Death Cab. Halfway through Sigus Ros she has to get up to put in "Transatlanticism" because she focuses so much on the words that it puts her to sleep." He kept going as if a question had never been asked. "She thinks Northstar is more profound than Radiohead and that Conor Oberst is a better song writer than Elliot Smith. She prefers Brand New over Taking Back Sunday unless you're comparing both of their first albums and the first albums only, then she'll choose Taking Back Sunday because they're more passionate and she likes it when they scream. She puts in Motion City Soundtrack when she feels like dancing and The early November when she feels like crying. The Jealous Sound is in her CD player at all time. She thinks that Geoff Rickly and that dude from Jimmy Eat World are the only ones who truly get her." As he stopped speaking he looked away. He partially opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it quickly. I'm not sure if it's vanity speaking or not, but I'm fairly sure the she he was referring to was me. Of course I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but I have been quoted many times on saying how Thursday understood me more than most people I know personally. I'm just saying.
"Don't fuck it up." On that note, Pete then walked out of the restaurant and out of my life. At least I think so. I wonder if he walked out of hell as well. Remind me to write that down.
Zak turned to me as if for an explanation as to what just happened. I threw my hands into the air to let him know that I was just as in the dark as he was. He looked at me disapprovingly. Now would be a good time to get those crayons. If I didn't get these questions onto paper I was sure to forget them.
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