Please Don’t Go


By Jane Smith


I have the most wonderful friends. When I listen to their voicemails, I instantly visualize John Cusack circa 1989…


Except, instead of playing In Your Eyes, Cusack’s boombox is blaring:



Sometimes I get sad when I visualize this because I left almost all of my friends back in DC to move to California. I still think of those folks regularly though. As a matter of fact, I often recall those last few times we hung out, talked and had cocktails.

happy hour

When those final moments of my East Coast life begin to flip through my mind like slides in a PowerPoint, my eyes begin to fill with tears. Tears comprised of splendid, convivial memories—beautiful, rowdy and drunken memories. This is when my vision blurs completely and I realize (once again) that those were indeed, the happiest hours of my life.


One year later and I still love you bitches—every last one. I’ll be sure to visit soon.