Tuesday, July 27, 2010

2 Days, 7 Trips, and 12 Minutes in Heaven

DAY TWO - PART 1

Waking up with a hangover was never a problem for me. After a couple times, like anything else, you get used to it. The sunlight woke me up as it shined like the flames of hell on my face at around eight in the morning. I sat up on the couch and saw that Jack had left his pack of cigarettes, so naturally I took one out and lit it. I looked around for the bottle of whiskey, but gave up when I found a can of beer that was half full. I was still a bit shaky from the night before and was considering staying at home all day. The chances of finding the brunette were slim to none, but then again, I am a gambler. I finished my cigarette and what was left in the beer can, and got up to get ready to start the search. It was going to be a long day, and I was going to need a lot of liquor.

After getting ready I decided to skip breakfast and head out to the liquor store first. I was either nervous, or just too hung over to stomach food. I got in my car, shuffled my feet through a few empty bottles to get to pedals, put the key in the ignition and sat back. I felt nauseous so I got out of the car and lit a cigarette. The first puff hit the back of my throat awkwardly, which forced me to vomit behind the back tire. I took a few more puffs after, got in the car, and headed to the liquor store. When I pulled into the parking lot I drove cautiously, just in case any more crazy women decided to yell at me. I could handle them after a few drinks, but being hung over early in the morning, I just might snap.
“Good morning,” said the same elderly cashier from the night before.
“What did you do, sleep here?”
“I work here fulltime.”
“Your parents must be real proud of you,” I said, as I walked quickly towards the whiskey aisle. I grabbed a bottle of Jameson and looked over and saw the kid that helped me carry my beers. “The beers were fine, none of them exploded,” I said.
“Oh, ok.”
“I told my friend you shook them up, but he didn’t believe me.”
“I didn’t shake them, sir.”
“I know you didn’t. I just told him you did.”
“Oh, ok.”
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should have a drink, that way you won’t be such a stiff. Grab one of these cases and head to the backroom.”
“I’m supposed to put all the cases on display for the customers.”
“What are you, retarded?”
“No.”
“You mean no, sir?” I said, before taking the bottle of whiskey to the cashier. “That kid you guys got working back there is full of problems.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s an incompetent. He doesn’t know his shit from his piss. He’ll never make it.”
“Like I told you yesterday, sir, he’s new.”
“You should get a young broad to work back there. I mean, what do you do all day? You just stand up here and look around, if you can even see. At least with a nice little blond or something, bending over every few minutes to lift the beer up, you’d have something to stare at.”
“Is that all, sir?”
“Yeah, whatever, see you later gramps. Make sure this place has a retirement fund, or you’ll be fucked.”
I walked out and over to my car and put the bottle of whiskey on the passenger seat. As I was about to get in, I saw a woman out of the corner of my eye. I looked closer and saw it was the same woman who screamed at me the night before. What is this, Groundhog Day? I got in and honked before pulling out. She looked over and immediately recognized me.
“It’s you! You evil man! Drinking again, of course!”
“Get in baby, lets go for a ride!”
“I’m phoning the police!”
“Good, maybe they can help you find your medication, you crazy bitch!” I yelled, as I sped out of the parking lot.

I drove to a lake that wasn’t far from the liquor store to have some whiskey and get back to normal. There was a bench that I could sit on and watch the ducks swim around, clueless to the cruelty that us humans face in our day to day lives. There were people running around the lake who were probably wondering why I was sitting there at nine in the morning with a bottle of Jameson. It didn’t bother me though, because at the same time I was wondering why there were people running around the lake at nine in the morning. After half the bottle and a few cigarettes I was feeling good again. I decided it was time to go to the grocery store-the big one-and see if the brunette was there. I got up off the bench and started walking towards my car. On the way over, I managed to step out in front of a woman running which caused her to trip over my foot.
“Watch it asshole!” the woman yelled from the ground. “Didn’t you see me coming? What are you, blind?”
“Whoa, calm down,” I said. I bent down to help her up. For a second, I was hoping it was the brunette from the liquor store, but after re-thinking it, I was still too sober to deal with that. “Are you OK?” I asked.
She looked up at my face and just my luck, it was the brunette. “Oh, it’s you again,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be at a liquor store, buying, what was it again, some rum? No, wait, it was whiskey; you asshole.”
I smiled and held up the bottle of Jameson. “Want some breakfast?” I asked.
“Are you kidding me? Why are you drinking this early? Didn’t you get enough yesterday?”
“I’m on holidays. I just came down here to feed the ducks and I thought a couple drinks would be nice to have.”
“It’s not even ten o’ clock. Who the hell drinks this early?”
“You’ve never heard of drinking alcohol to cure a hangover?”
“Oh, I guess. So, you’re drinking off a hangover, then you’re going to be drunk again and wakeup tomorrow and need to drink off another hangover.”
“Story of my life.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“I’m kidding. I don’t do this often. Like I said, I’m on holidays.”
“Well then why don’t you go somewhere? Go camping, go to the beach, do something instead of drinking alone at a park.”
“I’m not alone,” I said, winking at her.
“You were a real asshole yesterday, you know that?”
“I had a few too many drinks.”
“Just a few?”
“Honestly, I lost count. You know, you weren’t a real pleasure to be around yesterday either.”
“How so? I was polite up until you said you cherish alcohol over women.”
“There’s a fine line between alcohol and women.”
“What do you mean?”
“They can both either make you feel really good, or make you feel like a piece of shit.”
“That’s an odd way of looking at it.”
“Well, you see, I’ll be drinking and feel great, then I’ll wakeup the next day and feel like shit. With women, we’ll fuck and I’ll feel great, then I’ll wakeup the next day and feel like a piece of shit for wanting to get the hell out of there. I can’t win.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Of course it is. I should get to win sometimes. I’m glad you agree.”
“No, your whole view on women is horrible. Did you ever think that maybe we want you to leave in the morning?”
“Come on now, don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m serious. There’s been tons of times where a guy’s stayed around in my apartment the next day; eating all my food, watching TV, making a mess everywhere. I just wanted to tell him to get the hell out. I got what I needed, so it’s time to piss off.”
“You’re a lot different than I thought.”
“In what way?”
“You’re just a cruel, evil bitch.”
“Excuse me!?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I love it. You’re the goods babe.”
She laughed. “You like the bad girls, huh?”
“Don’t get me excited now, darling. OK, I’m kidding, talk dirty to me.”
“You’re trouble, I can tell already.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“But, I should get going,” she said.
“Hold on a second. Are you still going to that barbeque tonight? I was thinking, since we seem to be getting along a lot better than yesterday, maybe we could get together tonight?”
“Get together with you? Is that some kind of sick joke?”
“What?”
“I’m kidding! Look at your face, you look like someone just told you there’s no more alcohol in the world.”
“Trust me, if someone told me that, I’d be diving off the nearest bridge.”
“You definitely would,” she said, laughing. “I do have to go to the barbeque though, unfortunately.”
“There’s no way out of it?”
“Well, there could be. I’m only going because I promised a girlfriend I’d go with her.”
“How bout’ you ladies come over to my place, and I’ll call a friend. We can have our own barbeque.”
“That could work.”
“Of course it could. Here, take my address, and come by around eight.” I took a pencil out of my pocket and ripped the Jameson label off to write the address on.
“I know this area,” she said, while reading the address. “My friend lives right around there.”
“Good, then both of you can have some drinks and not worry about driving home later; you can just walk to her house.”
“Remember, I don’t drink that often, so I probably won’t be having too much.”
“I don’t drink that often either,” I said, before taking a sip of whiskey.
“Of course you don’t, and anyone who says otherwise, must be out of their mind,” she said sarcastically.
We both laughed and said our goodbyes and she continued to run as I walked over to my car and headed home.

The minute I got home I made myself a drink; Jameson and ginger ale. After a couple sips I lit a cigarette and picked up the phone to give Jack the good news.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Jack, I got good news.”
“I’m getting laid tonight?”
“We’re both getting laid tonight; at my house.”
“I told you, man, I’m not gay. I’m not fucking you.”
“You wish you could fuck me.”
He laughed. “Did you find the brunette or something, man?”
“Yeah, I was at the lake having a few drinks and I saw her running.”
“Why was she running?”
“I’m not sure. There was a bunch of people running around the lake.”
“Why were they running around the lake?”
“Apparently they enjoy it in the morning.”
“That’s not right.”
“I know, but, you should have seen her tits bounce as she ran.”
“I can imagine, man. So are you seeing her tonight? Are we going to double team her?”
“She’s coming over at eight, and she’s bringing a friend.”
“It’s not going to be another demented beast like that last girl you brought out for me, is it?”
“I sure hope so; that was hilarious.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“She’ll be fine. Don’t worry, with the way this broad looks, I guarantee her friend will be just as good.”
“And if she isn’t?”
“Then you can go home and jerk off.”
“Whatever, man. Are we going to the bar soon to get started? You know I won’t go into the lions den if I’m sober.”
“I’m already ahead of you. Let’s just go to the liquor store and head back to my place.”
“That’s fine by me, man. You’re paying, right?”
“I’m going to pay for your liquor and get you pussy? Why the fuck would I do that?”
“How about this, I’ll buy the liquor and if the broad is up to my standards, we’re even. But, if she looks like something you’d want to hunt, you’re paying me back; for my booze too.”
“Sounds good.”
“OK, pick me up on the way back from the liquor store then.”
“So I’m a cab now too? I’m a bartender, a pimp, and a fucking cab driver for you? Use those gangly legs and walk your ass to my house.”
“Whatever, man. I’ll leave in half an hour, if you’re not back by the time I get to your house, I’m going in through the window again.”
“Suit yourself.” I hung up and finished my drink. Here I go; trip number five.

I decided to go to a different liquor store. It was a bit further than the one I usually went to, but I thought it was best to avoid crazy women and old filthy men still working as cashiers. As I walked up to the front door there was a man with a dog begging for change.
“Spare any change, sir?”
“For some liquor?” I asked.
“No, sir, not for liquor, I need food.”
“Ah, well, I can’t help you there. If you said it was for booze, I would’ve thrown you twenty bucks. But, oh well.” I walked inside as the man stared at me. “You’ve got to get rid of these fucking rats,” I said to a clerk by the front door. “Look at him; just take a broom and go sweep him away. Beat him with the handle if you have to.”
“As long as he’s a few meters away from the door, he’s allowed to stay there.”
“What a joke.”
“It is what it is.”
I walked past the whiskey aisle this time and picked up a case of Kokanee. On the way to the cashier I saw a stack of boxed wine, so naturally I picked one up.
“Just the beer and the wine, sir?” said the cashier, a decent looking blond.
“That depends, what else are you offering?”
“Um, we have some chocolates there behind you.”
“That’s not what I meant, hunny.”
“I’m sorry I don’t quite follow.”
“Cute, real cute. Yes, just the wine and the beer for now.” I gave her some money. “I’ll be back for you later.”
Walking towards the front door I could see the man with the dog waiting for me so I turned around.
“Is there another exit?” I asked the cashier.
“Yes, just on the other side of the wine racks over there,” she pointed.
I quickly walked through the doors and noticed the man and his dog coming towards me. I picked up the pace and made it to my car and threw the alcohol in the back seat.
“Get the fuck away from me!” I yelled, as the man and his dog were closing in on my car.
“You have some change, I know you do! I don’t need food, I never need food. Please, I need liquor! I need the twenty dollars for liquor!”
“You had your chance you rat bastard!” I started the car and reversed as fast as possible. I sped out of the parking lot and drove over what I thought was a large speed bump.”
“You hit my dog! You mother fucker! You killed my dog you murderer!” he screamed.
I could see a couple people gathering around the dog as the man ran after me, yelling at the top of his lungs. I lit a cigarette, turned the radio on full blast, ignored the situation and kept driving. It was going to be a good night.

When I got home I saw Jack sitting on the front steps having a cigarette. He was wearing a nice button up shirt, dress pants, and leather shoes.
“What’s with the fancy clothes?” I asked, as I stepped out of the car.
“You locked the window on purpose, didn’t you?”
“I would never do that.”
“You’re such an asshole sometimes, man.”
“I forgot to open it. I’m drunk, give me a break.”
“You’re always drunk, man.”
“If God didn’t want me to drink, he would get rid of alcohol.”
“Well, God wants me to drink too, so let’s get the fuck inside.”
We walked into the living room and I handed Jack a beer and poured the rest of the Jameson into a glass for myself.
“So, what’s with the clothes? You think you’re going to get lucky tonight?”
“I wanted to look nice. If they’re as hot as you say they are, you better put on some nice clothes as well man.”
“Fuck them. They can take me as I am.”
“Are you at least going to shower?”
“It crossed my mind.”
“Do you want to get laid tonight or not?”
“Well, I did. But after all this whiskey, I’d be satisfied just sitting here, finishing all the beer and wine.”
“We’ll be finishing everything anyways.”
“You make a good point, Jack. Hopefully I’ll be able to get my dick up later.”
“That depends, man.”
“On what?”
“How many liquor store runs we make before the women get here.”
“Another good point.”
“I’m full of good information when I’m sober.”
“We all are. Don’t think you’re special or anything.”

After a few hours of drinking and mindless conversation we finished all the beer and were halfway through the box of wine. I was feeling good but Jack looked like he was getting a bit drowsy.
“You alright?” I asked.
“Yeah, man. This wine is just putting me to sleep.”
“We need some whiskey. That should wake us up.”
“You’re tired too?”
“That should wake you up, I mean. I just want some whiskey.”
“You get the whiskey while I lay down here. I need at least thirty minutes, man.”
“I’ll drive to get it, but, I think you’re forgetting the deal.”
He pulled out his wallet and gave me more than enough money for a bottle of Jameson.
“Get a couple packs too,” he said.
“What brand?”
“The cheapest they got, man.”
“Atta boy.”
As I was driving to the liquor store I felt the car swerving a bit. It was the sixth trip in two days and I really started feeling the effects. I had to go quite a distance this time since I wasn’t able to go to the two liquor stores closest to my house. Crazy women, old men, and now a dead dog; it was a hell of a weekend. I made it safely to a cold beer and wine store just outside of town, got in, grabbed a bottle of Jameson and a few packs of cigarettes, and got out within a few minutes. The area was deserted, which was probably a good thing. I had a few smokes on the drive back and came close to hitting a couple parked cars, but eventually made it back to my house in one piece.
“Wake up!” I yelled, as I walked through the front door. “Jack, get your ass up, the whiskey is here.”
He didn’t move. I saw a pile of vomit beside the couch he was laying on.
“You sick bastard!” I screamed, before putting my fist into his stomach.
“Ah, fuck! What the fuck are you doing man? You’ll make me puke again!”
“If I see anymore come out you’re eating it you son of a bitch!”
“Chill out, man! I’ll clean it up.” He stood up and staggered into the kitchen to get some paper towel.
“We’ve barely had anything today,” I said. “Get it together.”
“Not everyone’s a drinking machine like you, man,” he said from the kitchen. “Where’s the paper towel?”
“Behind the sink. Get me a glass while you’re in there. Look at this shit, you filthy bastard.”
He walked back into the living room with a glass and some paper towel. “It happened while I was sleeping, man. One minute I was fine, caught in a deep sleep, the next I was bent over the edge of the couch.”
“And you didn’t think to clean it then? We got women coming here; what do you think they’d say if they walked in to a pile of puke and piss in the living room?”
“There’s no piss, but I see what you’re saying.”
“ Just clean it up.”
“I’m cleaning it man, chill out. It’ll be like it never happened. They won’t even be here for another few hours anyways.”
I sat down and poured a glass of Jameson and ginger ale.
“You’re lucky I got some whiskey,” I said. “I don’t think beer would have done it. That’s not something you want to walk into when a couple broads are coming over.”
“I know, man. Here, look, it’s clean,” he said as he finished wiping the floor.
“It still smells like a pig’s asshole. Get some of that spray from the bathroom and spray it around.”
After spraying the whole upstairs with a lemon scent he sat down and poured himself a drink.
“That’s the most work I’ve done all week,” he said.
“You lazy fuck.”
“You’re one to talk. You don’t even work, man.”
“I have a fulltime job.”
“Yeah, but you don’t do anything there.”
“Why should I work if I don’t have to?”
“I’m not saying you should work, I’m just saying we’re both lazy pieces of shit.”
“Amen.”
“So, did you get the smokes?” he asked.
I pulled three packs out of the bag and threw them on the table. He sat up and opened one of the packs and tossed a cigarette at me.
“Now we can relax,” he said.
We finished our drinks and smoked in silence for a bit. It was nice to be able to sit with someone and drink without having to talk. Only a few people that I know are able to do it comfortably, the rest just bore me with constant conversation. Most of the time I’m not even paying attention.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

2 Days, 7 Trips, and 12 Minutes in Heaven

DAY ONE

It was only a week ago that I found myself driving to the liquor store for the fourth time in the same day. It was the beginning of my two day weekend and when I woke up I had a plan to drink all day; and I mean drink. So there I was, cutting through traffic like a maniac, trying to make it to the liquor store as fast as possible. I wasn’t on a schedule or anything; I just had no patience when it came to alcohol. My tires screeched as I drove into the parking lot and I hit the curb as I tried to park.
“You better watch that speed, you could have killed somebody,” said a woman as I stepped out of my car.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I said.
“What the hell does that mean?” she asked.
“Watch the news later. Casualties everywhere; kids, dogs, families; it’s just a bloody massacre,” I muttered as I walked into the liquor store.
“That man is a murderer!” I heard her scream through the windows. “He’s drunk! He’s driving drunk! He told me he hit a few people already!”
“Is she yelling about you?” asked one of the store clerks.
“You know, I’m not really sure. Can’t be though, I haven’t had a drink all day.”
“You sure smell like you have. Smells like you just finished a drink on the way over here.”
“Ah yes, I had a beer with dinner. There’s no harm in one beer. She must be out of her mind.”
“Well, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
“And I’ll be keeping my eyes on her,” I said, as I walked over to a voluptuous brunette in the rum aisle.
“Rum’s a damned fine drink,” I told her.
“It sure is,” she said. “Do you work here?”
“Here? God no; I wouldn’t last a week in this place. Surrounded by booze all the time, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off it.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” she said as she laughed.
“I’m surprised I’m even able to stand, this is my fourth trip.”
“Fourth? You’re insane.”
“What can I say, I’m the goods baby.”
“Have you been buying a lot each trip?”
“Not really,” I said, lying through my teeth. “Some friends came over earlier and drank most of it.”
“Oh, I see.”
“So, yeah, I was thinking, since were both in love with rum-“
“Oh, I’m not in love with rum,” she interrupted me. “I barely drink.”
“You barely drink? I saw the way you were looking at these bottles. I know that look; I give them the same look.”
“No, really, I don’t drink often. I’m just here to pickup a bottle for a barbeque tomorrow night.”
“Come on; seriously?”
“I’m serious.”
“Oh well, I guess that’s good. Now I can get whiskey,” I said, as I headed towards the whiskey aisle.
“I thought you were in love with rum?”
“Only if you were, doll. I can’t stand that shit. I’m a whiskey man. And yes, I’ve been buying a lot each trip. And no, I didn’t share with any friends. And yes, you’re damn right I cherish alcohol more than woman.”
“Asshole!” she shouted, as she picked up a bottle of rum and quickly took it to the cashier.
“Still got it,” I said.
I passed by the vodka and tequila and eventually came across the whiskey. I grabbed a bottle of Jameson and paced around the beer section. Did I really need beer?
“Hey, buddy, can you bring a case of Kokanee up front for me, my hands are tied,” I said to a young guy. I wasn’t even sure if he worked there.
“Sure thing,” he said.
“And don’t shake them. If one of those explodes when I open it, I’ll be back, and I’ll be looking for you.”
I walked over to the cashier as the young man carried the beer nervously. I gave him a couple bucks for a tip and told him I was joking, but I would probably be back; not for him, for more alcohol.
“Nice kid,” I said to the cashier, an elderly man.
“He’s new. A little slow, but he’ll learn.”
“Did you see the brunette that walked-“
“Sir, let me stop you there for a second. I’m not sure I can let you walk out of here with all of this.”
“What do you mean? Oh, wait, I get it, good idea. Let the kid carry it out for me, that’s damned good thinking.”
“No, sir, you don’t seem to be balancing on your feet too well, and, frankly, you smell like you’ve bathed in beer.”
“Bathe in beer, man, you’re just full of good ideas today! Twenty-four might not fill the tub; maybe I should get another 24. What do you think?”
“I think you should just stick with the bottle of Jameson, or I’ll have to get the manager involved.”
“Is the manager a female?” I asked, with a grin on my face.
The cashier picked up the intercom.
“Ok, ok! Just give me the Jameson. A real tight ass, aren’t you?”
“I’m just doing my job, sir.”
I handed him the money for the whiskey and walked out the front door. The crazy woman was gone, thank god. I got in my car, started it up, and drove over the curb and out of the parking lot without hesitation. If someone got in the way, it was their own fault. I lit a cigarette and turned up the radio. I always had the music on as loud as possible, that way if a cop put on his sirens, you could pretend you didn’t hear them.

After I got inside the first thing I did was make myself a drink; Jameson and ginger ale. There were cans and bottles spread all over the tables and floor, but I didn’t care. I actually enjoyed it. It reminded me of my incredible drinking ability. I stumbled through the mess and sat down on the couch to use the phone.
“Come on, Jack, pickup,” I said, as the phone rang.
“Yeah, who is it?” he answered.
“Jack, what the fuck are you doing? Get your ass over here!”
“I’m sleeping, man, I have to work tomorrow. Are you drunk right now?”
“Of course I’m drunk! I have two days off, so wake up! I got a bottle of Jameson for us.”
“You’ve been drinking like a fish lately, haven’t you?”
“Do fish drink water?”
“I’m talking about alcohol, man.”
“Fish don’t drink alcohol.”
“Forget about the fish, man.”
“Alright, anyways, I got everything but a person to bullshit with. Oh, and I met a brunette at the liquor store.”
“You did? How’d that go?”
“We talked for a bit, I could tell she was eyeing the goods, but then she said she didn’t drink.”
“What a bitch.”
“I know; who doesn’t drink now a days?”
“No kidding. She must live a real sad life, man”
“See, Jack, you understand everything.”
“What’s not to understand? You can’t hang out with people that want to stay sober; that’s just depressing man.”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to come and have some whiskey then, or you could be the sober, depressing guy who has to sleep before work. Either way, you’re a bitch.”
“Fuck you,” he said, as he laughed. “I’ll come by in a bit. Save me something to drink. And you better have cigarettes, I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah, go to hell.” I hung up and lit a cigarette.

By the time he showed up I had finished half the bottle of whiskey. I had one smoke left, I was about to pass out, and I was too drunk to stand up and answer the door.
“Nick! Open the door!” he shouted. “Get your ass up, I didn’t come here for nothing!”
I rolled off the couch and onto a pile of empty beer cans. “Son of a bitch,” I mumbled. I reached up on the table and grabbed the last cigarette and a lighter, laid back on the empty cans, stared at the roof, and lit it without even acknowledging Jack.
“You bastard!” he continued. “I’m climbing through the window, fuck it!”
I looked over and saw him trying to climb through an open window. He managed to get in safely, and walked over and stood above me.
“Welcome to the party,” I said.
“You’re a real asshole, man.”
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you that this is the last smoke.”
“I bought my own on the way over here. I knew better than to depend on you for anything.”
“I saved you some whiskey.”
“You didn’t save it. Look at you, you can’t even stand up.”
“Just give me a minute; it’s been a long day.”
“A long day of drinking,” he said, as he sat down on the couch and pulled out his cigarettes. “You drank half the bottle already? We just got off the phone not even twenty five minutes ago, man.”
“It came that way. Bloody thieves at the liquor store. Selling me only half a bottle; I should go kick that kid’s ass.”
“What kid?”
“The kid that shook up my beer cans.”
“We’re talking about a bottle of whiskey, man. I don’t see any beer left anyways; just empty cans.”
“He did it on purpose.”
“What are you going on about? What kid, what cans?
“The brunette was probably his girlfriend. He was all fired up with jealousy, so he shook my fucking cans!”
Jack ignored me and poured himself a glass.
“We should get outside, get some fresh air,” he said.
“Fill my glass up, then we’ll talk.”
“Fill your own glass, that is, if you’re able to.”
I grabbed onto the edge of the couch and lifted myself to my knees. I was halfway there, but I needed a break. Jack had his pack of smokes on the table in front of him, so I took one out and lit it.
“Get up, man. Smoke that outside or you’ll just lay back down when you finish it.”
“You know me too well, Jack.” I stood up on my feet and leaned against the wall. The front door looked too far so I sat down on the couch. “Just sit down, I’m fine,” I told him.
“When did you start drinking?” he asked.
“About 10 years ago.”
“I mean today, man,” he said, laughing.
“I woke up, came into the kitchen, opened a bottle of something, red wine I think, poured it and that was that.”
“And here we are; day one.”
“Two more to go.”
“Do you think you’ll see that brunette again, man?”
“I hope so. She was fine, real fine.”
“All you have to do is get her to have one drink; that way, it won’t be so fucking depressing.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not like she never has a drink, man. Maybe she just didn’t want to drink tonight. She was going to a barbeque tomorrow. Not everyone drinks everyday.”
“We do.”
“We’re special. We can handle it.”
“We can?”
“I don’t know, man. I think so.”
“Well, how do I find her?”
“Go to the grocery store tomorrow; the big one. Maybe she’ll be buying some food for the barbeque.”
“I’ll see if she’s at the liquor store in the morning.”
“She won’t be at a liquor store, especially not in the morning, man. She was just there today. Try the grocery store.”
“What are the chances?”
“Not good. But what else are you going to do, man?”
“I guess you’re right,” I said, as I leaned further into the couch pillows.
“You look tired, man. I’m going to take off so you can sleep. You should get up and hang around the grocery store in the morning. By the sounds of it, this broad probably wakes up early to run her errands.”
“What the hell am I getting myself into?”
“A pussy, man. A great, big, juicy pussy.”
“Big?”
“Well, you never know.”
“Fuck off.”
“Alright, man, call me tomorrow, let me know if you see her,” he said, before shutting the front door.
I stared at the wall for a minute, trying to focus before I slept. There’s nothing to worry about, I thought, I’m the goods, I’m the goods…

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Tougher Than Superman

"I'm going to open a restaurant,” I said.
"Open a restaurant?"
"Yes. Not a fancy one. I just want somewhere I can eat for free."
"You really need to cut back on the booze. You're just talking crazy now."
"I'm serious. I'm going to go out and get a job today so I can start saving."
"It's almost 5 o'clock and you haven’t even gotten dressed. Where do you expect to apply at this time of day?"
"Well, I'll look tomorrow then."
“Your brother is coming tomorrow. You can't cancel on him. He already bought his train ticket."
"God damn it! I'll go sometime this week.” I grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down on the couch. “Stop hassling me, will you?"
"I'm not hassling you! I'm just tired of these moods you always get in."
"What moods?"
"You start talking about all these things you want to do. They're always different ways of making money, or different ways of getting stuff for free. In the end, you never do shit!"
"Bah! To hell with you! You'll see, by next week I'll have a job. I'll start saving my money instead of buying you all your useless shit, then, when I have enough to open a restaurant, I'll make sure you're never allowed to eat there!"
"Good! I won't want to eat at your shitty restaurant anyways!" She yelled as she walked out the front door.
I got up off the couch and ran to an open window.
"You better come back here in an hour with a case of beer! You have one hour Sandy, you hear me?! For each minute you're late, I'm throwing one piece of your clothing onto the fuckin street!" I slammed the window shut and lit a cigarette.
What did she know about making money? She only knew how to spend money, like all women. I know I'll be great, and my restaurant will be great. Everyone that comes in will see how great I am, and how great my restaurant is, and that’s all that matters.

It had been almost an hour and I was out of beer. I was getting anxious so I started chain smoking. If I run out of smokes before she gets back, all hell will break loose. Suddenly, the front door opened. It was Sandy with a case of beer.
“Did you get any cigarettes?” I asked.
“No, you only demanded beer, like an asshole. Does it feel good to yell at me through the window, treating me like a servant in front of all of our neighbors?”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“I know, because you’re a heartless bastard.”
“I have a heart; it’s just cold and black.”
“You make me sick.” She put the beer on the floor beside me. “You better save some for your brother tomorrow.”
“Fuck him, he should be supplying me with beer.”
“You invited him over. You’re the host, so you should supply the drinks.”
“I hate the system.”
“I know, I know. You hate the system, you hate working, you hate life, you hate me, and now you hate your own brother.”
“But I do love myself.”
“Can you open a beer already? Hopefully it puts you in a better mood, or shuts you up.”
“There you go with that mood talk again. You need to relax, hunny.”
“I am relaxed. It’s just hotter than hell outside and I’m tired and hungry. Are we still going out for dinner later like you promised? Or is it just going to be another night sitting on the couch, drinking, listening to you tell me why you’re greater than Superman?”
“Superman isn’t shit! If there were no phone booths, where would he change? Take away the phone booths, and you take away Superman!”
“Here we go again. I’m going to have a nap, try to get up and get ready so we can actually go out tonight.”
“Sure thing, doll. Once I get some of these beers in me, we’ll go out somewhere nice to eat.”
“Of course, somewhere nice, it’s always somewhere nice when I’m paying.”
“Hey! Do you want to take a nap, or do you want me to put you to sleep?”
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy, real tough….” She muttered as she walked into the bedroom.
I am tough, I thought; tougher than Superman, that’s for sure.

About 3 hours later I was 9 beers deep and in desperate need of a cigarette. I forgot all about going out for dinner with Sandy and instead focused on finishing the case of beer and somehow getting some smokes. I walked into the kitchen and saw her purse on the table. I opened it and started looking for some money. I found a $20 hidden nicely in a zip up side pocket. Smart girl, I thought, but not smart enough. I quickly grabbed my shoes from the closet and just as I was opening the front door to go to the store, Sandy walked out of the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“Just for a walk, darling. I need to sober up before we go to dinner.”
“Sober up? You never want to sober up. Where are you going?” She turned and saw her purse open on the kitchen counter. “What the fuck is this?! You’re stealing from me again?!”
“No, no, it’s not what it looks like.” Idiot, I thought, how could I leave the purse open like that. “I got a piece of gum in case I run into anyone I know. I don’t want them to think I’m some kind of a drunk.”
“Everybody you know already thinks you’re a drunk! You’re stealing from me again! I knew I shouldn’t have left my purse on the counter! Give me back my money!”
“Babe, calm down. I was going to split a pack of smokes with you. I’m doing you a favor by going to get them myself.”
“I quit smoking 3 months ago!”
“You know, quitters can’t be winners.”
“I’m not in the mood for your jokes! Give me back my money if you ever want to see me carry a case of beer in here for you ever again!”
I handed her the $20. “Does this mean I don’t get any smokes?”
“Are you kidding me? You’re lucky I’m not packing my bags right now. What then? What if I was packing my bags? What would you do without me?”
“I’d probably find someone less likely to catch me stealing from their purse.”
“You are unbelievable. Is everything a joke to you?”
“No, not everything; well, yeah, actually, everything pretty much is a joke.”
“You really need to grow up. And for the love of god, stop stealing from me. And go get ready! I don’t know anyone that isn’t even dressed by this time!”
“It’s only 8pm, the day’s just begun. We’ll go out, have a nice meal, take a stroll to the liquor store, buy some fine wine and a couple packs of-“
“No! I told you, you aren’t getting any cigarettes tonight!”
“Well, that’s a shame, that’s a god damned shame! If I end up killing somebody later, I’m blaming you!” I yelled as I walked quickly into the bathroom.
“Yeah, yeah, here we go with the drama. Just hurry up tough guy.”
I stormed back out of the bathroom. “What was that? What did you say? I’m telling you right now, if I see anyone, anyone at all that resembles Superman, I’ll fuckin kill him!”
“Enough! Go have a shower already!”
I slammed the bathroom door shut. “I won’t forget about this! We’ll talk about this later! Mark my words!” I yelled through the walls.

On the drive to the restaurant I started to feel light headed. The heat was unbearable and the car had no air conditioning.
“I really need a drink, I feel dizzy,” I said.
“You drank enough today, don’t you think?”
“No, you can never have enough.”
“Actually, you can. A lot of people die from alcohol poisoning. What you need is some water. And you know, we’re past the stage where you need to impress me. We live together, so cut the shit.”
“Impress you? I never needed to impress you. I just think if you die from alcohol poisoning, you’re a pussy bitch.”
“And here he is; the tough guy. The big tough guy; dizzy, with no job, no cigarettes, and no alcohol.”
“Just hurry up, would you? Can’t this piece of shit car go any faster? I don’t know anyone that would get a car without air conditioning. I’m dying over here.”
“It’s a car, OK. At least I have a car. Do you have to be so nasty all the time?”
“It’s who I am. It’s too late to change now. I’m a nasty, evil, bad mother fucker; a rebel without a cause. I’m a tough son of a bitch, and don’t you ever forget that!”
“How could I, when you remind me every 10 minutes?”
As we pulled into the parking lot I started to feel a lot better; I knew the alcohol was close. We parked in a spot right beside the front door.
“There, we’re here, happy?”
“Once I get a drink, I’ll be fine as wine baby.” I stepped out of the car and felt a rush of nausea come over me. I leaned over and vomited behind the back tire.
“Oh, for fuck sakes,” Sandy said. “Was that necessary?”
“Yes, now I feel like a million peso’s. Let’s go.”
When we got inside the hostess told us we’d have to wait 20 minutes for a table; just my luck.
“This is horseshit!” I said. “Can we at least wait at the bar?”
“I’m sorry sir, the bar is full. We have some chairs behind you that you can sit on while you wait.”
“Do I look tired or something? Do I look like an old man? I don’t need a fucking chair, I need a drink.”
“Nick! Shut up and sit down!” demanded Sandy.
“I’m not waiting here! Let’s go, I saw a place next door that probably serves drinks. I doubt they’ll treat us like a couple of animals!”
“Sir, can you please calm down? We can serve you a drink here if you’d like.”
“There you go! Now, say thank you!” Sandy said.
“Fuck that; get me a double rum and coke. Actually, get me a bottle of Heineken. No wait, get me both.”
“You’re such an asshole, Nick.”
“I’m too thirsty for politeness!”
“It’s OK, mam. And would you like anything for yourself?”
“No, thank you.”
“See, you’re polite enough for the both of us,” I said. “Can we smoke in here?”
“No, I’m sorry sir, smoking is not permitted in doors. It hasn’t been for many years now.”
“You knew that anyways!” Sandy shouted. “You don’t even have any smokes. Stop causing problems; you’re acting like a child!”
I sat down and kept quiet till the drinks came. I didn’t want to piss Sandy off too much, she was paying after all. I also knew I could get her to stop at the liquor store on the way home if I didn’t fuck anything else up.
“A rum and coke for you, and a Heineken for the lady,” the waiter said, as he handed us the drinks.
“No pal, they’re both for me.”
“I apologize.” He grabbed the Heineken and put it beside the rum and coke. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Wait a second, buddy,” I said.
“Nick, don’t start. I’ve dealt with enough shit tonight.”
“Quiet for a minute, I just want to ask him a question.”
“Did you need something, sir?”
“Where do you get off handing me a little rum and coke, and handing my woman a beer? Do I not look manly enough to drink a beer? Do I look like someone who doesn’t drink beer? Does she look like a man, a big manly woman that just drinks beer all day? What the fuck is your-“
“Enough!” screamed Sandy. “Just shut the hell up and have a drink!”
The waiter walked off back into the kitchen.
“What did you do that for? The guy was begging me to kick his ass!”
“You don’t have to prove you’re tough anymore! I’ve seen you fight enough people. You want to fight every guy you see!.”
“And I’ll beat them all! Don’t think that I can’t; don’t think for one second that I can’t!” I finished my beer and got up to go to the washroom. “Make sure none of these deadbeats take my rum and coke, you hear me?”
“Just go, tough guy.”
I walked slowly in a drunken state. I passed by a few waitresses, slurring some inappropriate comments about their bodies, and finally made it to the washroom. When I walked in it smelt clean, too clean, like someone had just finished scrubbing every inch with a bar of soap. I locked the door and walked right to the middle of the room.
“These son of a bitches think they can do whatever they want, to whoever they want. I’ll show them they can’t fuck with me!”
I unzipped my pants and started pissing all over the floor. I stumbled over to the sinks and soaked them with piss. I got the stall doors, the urinals, the heaters, the paper towel dispenser; I covered the whole bathroom. It was an amazing site to see. I zipped my pants up and stood back for a minute, staring, like I was looking at the most beautiful piece of art.
“Not so clean now, are ya?
I came out of the bathroom with a big grin on my face and hurried back to Sandy-and my drink-but she wasn’t there.
“Excuse me,” I said to the hostess, “where did my rum and coke go?”
“Your wife took it with her to your table. Follow me please.”
“My wife? I’d rather be dead.”
I followed her to a small table in the back where Sandy was sitting with my drink.
“Your waitress will be with you in a few minutes.”
“It better not be the same son of a bitch that brought me these drinks, because I’ll drop him like a sack of bricks!”
“Thank you very much,” Sandy said to the hostess, before she could react to my belligerence.
“Your welcome. Can I get you guys a drink while you look over the menus?”
“Nothing for me,” said Sandy.
“Another Heineken, sir?”
“Your goddamn right another Heineken. Another rum and coke too, I’m worried someone tampered with this one.”
“Tampered with it?” said Sandy.
“I’m a very cautious person, with a lot of enemies.”
“You’re something else, Nick, you really are.”
“Also, can you bring us some of that free bread? I feel like I’m going to vomit again.”
“The waitress will bring out the rolls with butter when she comes to take your orders. Thank you, and have a pleasant evening.”
I watched as the hostess walked over to the bar.
“She’s something, isn’t she?” I said. Look at that ass, back and forth, back and forth as she goes. She walks like a tiger, hunting its prey; it’s mesmerizing.”
“If it wasn’t because of her job, she wouldn’t even consider looking at you twice,” said Sandy.
“Are you kidding me? Look at me, I’m a beautiful bitch. Features like these are a gift from God; I got the face of an angel baby.”
“Yeah, sure, an angel that lost its wings in mid air and plummeted face first onto the concrete. You’re so handsome, I’m just so lucky to be with such a handsome, gorgeous man.”
“Well, I must’ve won some sort of lottery, to get a prize piece like you; with your flabby tits, saggy ass, and the ability to act like road kill during sex.”
“Did you ever think that I act like road kill, because you can’t fuck for shit?”
“Did you ever think that I don’t give a fuck about pleasing you? I want to get in and out as fast as I can, like the dentist.”
“Did you just compare sex to the dentist?”
The hostess snuck in with the fresh drinks and took the old rum and coke that was possibly tampered with. Sandy and I were too involved in our own conversation to even acknowledge her.
“I’m not comparing sex to the dentist. I’m saying your pussy is like the dentist, and my dick just wants to get in, and get the fuck out!”
“Well, maybe my pussy will cancel all your current appointments. Maybe my pussy will just completely close down, forever, because all dicks seem to have an asshole attached to them!”
I ignored her and took a long drink of my beer and finished nearly half of it.
“I hope you choke on that expensive beer,” she said, in an angry tone.
“Maybe if you drank more frequently, you wouldn’t be such a moody bitch.”
“Oh, I’m moody? This is coming from you? Mr. I hate the world and everything in it. You can’t even crack a smile without alcohol.”
“Don’t be jealous by the fact that alcohol gives me a lot more than you do. Liquor just, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, it gives me something no woman ever could. How do I put this, it gives me happiness,” I said sarcastically.
A waitress walked over with a basket of rolls and a plate of butter. She put it in the middle of the table and told us it was hot, and that she would be back in a few minutes so we could look over the menu some more.
“What are you going to order?” asked Sandy.
“I don’t think I’m going to get anything. I’m happy with this free bread, my beer, and my rum and coke.”
“I knew this would happen.”
“What?”
“I knew you were only coming to dinner for some drinks. I knew you weren’t going to eat.”
“Yet you didn’t say anything?”
“Whatever, I’m used to it.”
“Atta girl. What are you going to order? Get the most expensive thing on the menu. I want only the best for my baby.”
“Just, shut up.”
The waitress walked back slowly, as I stared at her chest blatantly, and asked if we were ready to order.
“I’ll just have a chicken salad; nothing for him,” Sandy said.
“More bread, actually.”
The waitress wrote it all down and picked up our menus. “It should be about 15 minutes.”
“In that case, bring me another Heineken,” I said, just before finishing my rum and coke. “And you might as well take this glass away.”
She picked up the glass and I watched as she walked over to the bar. She looked better from the front.
“Now, see, the hostess has an incredible ass, and a sexy walk. This one, this waitress, she just doesn’t have it. She’s got a nice set of tits, but nothing from the back. She walks like she got fucked by a horse all day; it’s awkward and unbalanced.”
“You have something to say about everyone, don’t you?” Sandy said.
“I find it funny. When I open my restaurant, I’m not going to have a mix. I’ll have every waitress walking around topless, like they want to fuck every guy in the place.”
“So you’re going to open up a strip club?”
“Don’t get smart with me. It will be a classy restaurant, with a lot of tits, and a lot of alcohol.”
“That’s a strip club.”
“You know what, just forget it, you won’t be allowed in anyways; unless you need a job. But if that’s the case, you’ll need to get some plastic surgery on those little cupcakes.”
“First of all, I’d never work at a strip club, especially not one owned by you.”
“It’s not a fucking strip club!”
“Second of all, how dare you compare my breasts to little cupcakes. I don’t believe some of the sewage that comes out of your mouth sometimes.
“It’s not sewage. Everything I say should be quoted, copy written, and stored in a locked facility. I always speak the truth. There hasn’t been one time that you’ve said something more intelligent than me. There will be stories about me in the future, you’ll see, I’ll be a legend forever!”
“Sure you will; a legendary asshole.”
“That’s good enough for me. Oh, here comes our food,” I said, as the waitress walked towards us.
“You mean my food.”
“Alcohol is considered a meal to some people.”
The waitress gave Sandy her salad and put the fresh drinks in front of me.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I said.
“The bread will be another few minutes,” the waitress told me.
“Thank you,” said Sandy.
I finished my bottle of Heineken as the waitress walked back into the kitchen. Sandy was a slow eater, so I knew I could get at least 2 or 3 more bottles in me before we left. We didn’t talk as she ate, so I looked around at the other customers like they were peasants. I finished my beers and got a few more before Sandy finished, and asked someone beside us if they had a cigarette, but they didn’t. I thought about the piss filled bathroom, and wondered why nobody had complained yet, then considered going back for round 2, but Sandy was just finishing up and I was on my last beer. The waitress came to take the dishes and gave me the bill, which I handed to Sandy, before finishing the rest of my beer. I stood up as Sandy was putting together the money, took one last look at the waitress’ rack, and stumbled outside to piss behind the building in case someone accused me of defiling the bathroom. A family pulled into the parking spot beside the bush I was watering, but I was too drunk to care.
“That’s the opposite of what you should be when you’re older,” the father told his son as they stepped out of the car. “Those type of people ruin society.”
“Is he a bum, dad?” the son asked, as he watched me zip up my pants.
“Yes, son, he is a bum. Don’t stare at him; he might try to rob us.”
“I don’t need your fucking money!” I yelled. “I just need to put my fist through your head!”
“Oh my god!” the wife shouted.
“Get inside, everyone!” screamed the father.
“Yeah, you better run! I know who you really are, Superman! You can’t hide from me! Where’s your phone booth? Where you going to change? Get inside, and stay inside!”
Sandy walked out of the front door as the family frantically ran inside.
“Were they running from you?” she asked.
“No, no, I think they’re just hungry. They asked me for some spare change, the cheap fucks. It’s those types of people that ruin society.”
“They didn’t look like they were poor.”
“Trust me, Sandy; they were like sewer rats, all of them. The guy even told me he pissed all over the bathroom inside. What a degenerate.”
“That’s disgusting. Maybe we should go tell the manager.”
“Let’s just get in the car and head to the liquor store. Fuck this place.”

The second we got home I started going through the ashtray for leftover butts. I poured the tobacco out of a few and rolled it into a full smoke as Sandy stood there, staring at me.
“Now who’s the degenerate?” she said.
“It’s the end of the road here. I’m at the point of no return. I don’t give a shit anymore, I need this.” I lit the cigarette and instantly felt better. “My lungs are in heaven.”
“Can you put this shit away?” she said, holding the bags from the liquor store.
“Put it away? Give it here,” I said, as I grabbed the bags. “I’m going to start with the rum. You take the white wine.”
“Right, right, because you don’t drink white wine. White wine is for pussies.”
“White wine is for pussies! Red wine is a man’s drink. It’s bitter and dry, and sometimes rough. White wine is sweet and light, with fancy names like Chardonnay and Riesling. And the way I see it, sweet, light, fancy named drinks are for faggots!”
I finished my cigarette as Sandy got the corkscrew and some glasses. It had gotten a bit cooler since the sun set but it was still warm enough to complain about.
“Open the windows while you’re up,” I said.
“It’s not that hot out. You’re just warm because you’re drunk.”
“Don’t tell me what I am, just open the windows. What does it matter what I’m hot from? Either way I’m hot.”
She opened the windows and the front door, and put the glasses on the table in front of me.
“Do you need anything else, because once I sit down and pour this wine I’m not getting up,” she said.
“I just need a pack of cigarettes.”
Sandy opened the wine bottle and poured herself a glass. I sat up and filled a glass half full with rum.
“Where’s the coke?” I said.
“What coke?”
“You know; the coke that’s mixed into rum; the coke that is half of a rum and coke; the fucking coke that I need to pour into this glass to have a rum and coke!”
“You didn’t say anything about any coke.”
“That’s because I thought you were getting it!”
“You never told me to get it. You told me to get wine and rum. What’s the big deal anyways, you’re drunk, just drink it straight.”
“You don’t know your ass from your hand!” I put the rum in the fridge and grabbed the bottle of red wine from the bag. “Now I got to slam this to feel anything close to what that rum would’ve done to me.”
“Or you could just drink it normally like a civilized person.”
“Sandy, don’t start with that bullshit. You know my tolerance is incredible. The amount of liquor that I need to get drunk could tranquilize a full grown rhino. So don’t start with that drinking ‘normal’ garbage, because you know I’m not normal.”
She picked up a magazine and sipped on her wine. It was a mutual agreement we made a long time ago that I could drink myself silly and complain about the world and she would either pretend to listen, or listen without getting angry. So I continued.
“I could drink a whole bar under the table. It’s weird, you know, I hate Superman so much, but I feel like I’m the Superman of drinking.” I put the bottle to my mouth and let the red wine flow down my throat like a waterfall. “Goddamn that’s amazing! It’s instant gratification. I got to say, I could be a psychiatrist. People would come in and tell me about their problems, they’d cry and I’d call them pussies and whiners and then I’d ask if they drink. The ones that drink and are still bitching like little girls I’ll offer a loaded handgun and a bottle of whiskey to, but the ones that don’t drink I’ll just to prescribe them with 40% liquor. And trust me I’ll change their lives forever.”
“Do you even realize what you’re saying half the time? You sound like a maniacal, evil psychopath. You’re saying you’d tell people who come to you, looking for support and medical help, to either get drunk and shoot themselves, or just drink until they forget about their problems?”
“You’re just confusing me now.” The wine was sinking in nicely. “I’ll just shoot everybody that looks like Superman. Then I’ll drink, I’ll drink everything I can get my hands on!” I started swaying around the kitchen, trying to catch my balance.
“I think you should go to bed. You’re going to fall and break something.”
“Maybe you should go to bed! You think I can’t handle this? You think I’m too weak? This is how weak I am!” I held the wine just above my mouth and poured the rest in. Just as I finished I dropped the bottle and the glass shattered everywhere.
“Get to bed!” yelled Sandy. “You’re going to ruin the house and hurt yourself!”
I sat down on the floor and stared at the fridge. “Get some coke,” I muttered. “We have to finish the rum. The rum won’t finish itself. Get the rum, just get the rum.”
Sandy came over and helped me get up off the floor. “You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that? It’s amazing how many times I have to help you walk to your own bed.”
“I’m still tough,” I slurred. “I’m tougher than tough.”
“I know, I know, you’re tougher than Superman.”
I rolled onto the bed and instantly passed out, as Sandy stood there, staring at me, wondering where her life went wrong.