Rich and I were now intentionally meeting up at the Upstage. No official date, yet. But the Upstage was where I’d surely be on Mondays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. I was a senior at Robert Morris at this time, under grad. It was September 1993. I was 23 he was 22. The roommates and I would still go see The Nixon Clocks on Thursdays, but right back to the Upstage. One night Rich came back to our apartment and stayed the night. Suddenly, people were looking for him! Our phone rang off the hook from a woman who identified herself as his mother calling (it wasn’t her). He apparently had his “girlfriend’s” car that night. He left to find the car was gone from where he parked it and he walked back to his apartment in Squirrel Hill. It was more drama than I was interested in. I was like, “piss on that”. You have a girl or you don’t. Later that week, it may have just been a day, his bags were packed and he and Grover were on my doorstep. He moved in with me and my college roommates. He later told me the singer of the Nixon Clocks wrote a song inspired by our evening…
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