HEY MERCEDES

Your alarm blasts you awake at 9:00AM, but you palm-slap the snooze button every five minutes, until 10:15AM. It takes a few seconds for your brain to process the fact that Laura\'s already left for work. You flip back the covers and swing your legs over the side of your well-worn, twin-sized mattress, sitting up in one clunky maneuver. Leftover beer bells and whisky whistles echo through your skull, queasy reminders of each overpriced drink you had at the bar last night. Then it\'s up and to the bathroom. Bladder emptied, you wash hair and scrub pits, the same way you\'ve done it every day for the past four years. Towel dried, dressed and deodorized, you stoop down to lace up your Vans. Then it\'s out and off to your day. But when you step off the curb and cross the street to your red 1996 Geo Metro, you notice something different lodged under the windshield wipers. Instead of the standard, hot pink flyers for that club down the street, it\'s a ruled page torn from someone\'s daily planner,.. from Laura\'s daily planner. And in simple, scrawling, blue-inked handwriting, it reads, \"I love you.\" You stop for a second, staring at the note and, at the same time, looking at nothing at all. Now, in your car, you tuck the note in the groove where the steering wheel meets the dashboard. Then it\'s out and about on your regular grind. And that\'s perfectly fine.
Yeah, that\'s pretty much what listening to Hey Mercedes is like. It\'s pretty basic, emotional rock. If you\'re in love and work at a college bookstore, you\'ll probably love their music. Frankly, it\'s not my bitter, SINGLE cup-o-tea. But, then again, someone dropped a house on my sister a while back, and I haven\'t been the same since.
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