Sometimes I Love This Town

The night began as an escape. Ended as a release.

Yeah, I bitch about Hoboken. The ongoing loss of culture, political corruption and fading sense of community makes it hard to stay. But I’m rooted here. My family is rooted here. We’ve been here for three generations now. So leaving is not really an option. Then there are nights like the one I had recently.

It was late and I couldn’t write. My mind was rambling every which way. I couldn’t sleep for the same reason. I went to DC’s (505 8th St, Hoboken) to have a couple of drinks. It was one of those nights where I felt all alone in this crowded burb. People all about but few familiar faces. I just stood there staring blankly. A shot of whiskey in one hand. A can of beer in the other.

And there was Sapphire. Relaxed and composed. Long and slender. Looking at me. Looking more wolf than house pet, her calm demeanor was remarkable. In a dog’s mind, I wondered how the chaos of this tiny, crowded bar must have seemed. I imagined myself in a pie tin, tossed around a demolition derby on plate glass with every noise hitting the very end of my nerves.

And yet Sapphire remained cool.

She walked over to me as I was trying to send a text. She knocked my hand as if to say, “You don’t want to do that. You want to pet my smiling head.” And she was right. I felt this warmth come over me that I really needed. I met her owners who told me that she was a rescue dog, saved from a pound in Atlanta were she had been shot in one of her hind legs. Mistaken for a wolf.

Now my own comparison haunted me.

Sapphire forgave me and let me take a picture of her with my phone. On her way out, she came over to say goodbye. I teared up a little. The purity of an animal’s heart is one of the few absolute truths in this world.

I stayed. Made a few new friends. Sussed out a few old friends. The night started out as an escape and ended up as a release. And it really is a night like this that makes me love this town all over again.