4:36am: “This one´s for you!”

This kid P. calls me up at 4:36 into the wee, wee hours of Sunday. I´m sleeping but I take the call anyway and trade up the usual cursing for curiosity once I realize he´s calling from a nightclub, a bar, something like that, because the background music is near unbearable.
“This one´s for you!,” he screams over the receiver in a rather slurry voice, then a remixed version of Depeche Mode´s I can´t get enough kicks in for about half a minute, then the call dies.

I sit down on my bed, the room still dark and all, and smile.