THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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we had long finished eating and were just sitting at our table drinking and talking when someone said, "think he's going to make it?" and pointed out the window. a guy was trying to make his his way over to us from one of the other bars. he was drunk and moving sideways like he was trying to outrun a fall. he looked about my age, short hair, white button-down shirt with the tails out, and a tie that had been loosened. he made it up to the restaurant, rattled a the door that would've led to us but was locked, then went through the other door and went straight to the bar. a little while later he came back out and walked pass the hall we were in. he stopped at the window and looked at me. then he came in and pulled up a chair next to me. "do i know you?" "i'm not sure." "are you __________?" "yeah." "you remember me? we skipped school an' got drunk and then we went to the mall and i puked while getting my hair cut and we got busted?" "oh shit, ___________!" "yeah!" "you look the same. drunk." "heh-heh. yeah." i can't tell if he only just then noticed my wheelchair or not, but he pointed to the chair and said, "what happened?" "fell off a building a while back." "oh man...man...that sucks. you preplegic?" "more like post-plegic." "huh?" "yes, i'm a paraplegic." "frever?" "at least till i die." "that sucks, man. really sucks." "hey, life's a bitch and then you're crippled." we swapped a few stats - i live downtown, he lives off old camp bowie, he works for his dad, i'm a miserable failure, all that. then he gets a serious look on his face, like he has news about when the next terrorist attack is going to take place, and says, "they won't sell me beer." "who?" "them," and jerks his thumb back toward the bar. "sorry to hear that." "could you buy a beer for me? i mean, i'll give you money." "i can't get to the bar - there are stairs." "i'll carry you up the stairs." "i don't think so." he starts asking other people there to buy him a beer, but everyone refuses. nobody wanted to be stuck with him. he turns back to me and says, "i'm going to go up there and tell them i'm buying the beer for you. ok?" "go for it." he leaves. the next time i see him, he being escorted out the door by two big guys. he's pointing at me and saying, though i can't hear him, "the beer's for him." they all look at me and i shrug. they toss him out the door. he paces around the parking lot for a while, mad. then he finally stands in the middle of the lot, flips us all off, and wanders off. |
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my cat killed a baby gecko in my house a couple of days ago. i don't think that bodes well. |
every morning i would find at least one dead gecko laying tummy side up on my lanai, the work of my easily amused cats. for some reason, they stopped bothering with the big cockroaches in the garage, but they never tired of geckos. sometimes i would find them alive without tails, or dead without heads. the breathing ones i always tried to save by getting them out of the house as soon as possible. speaking of miserable failures, i might be starting a job this week or next at a place called Grapevine Market as a cashier making $8/hr. it's the first job offer i've gotten, though when i called this afternoon, as requested by one of the owners i interviewed with yesterday, to let them know if i wanted the job, which i do, i was sorta given the run around. so maybe i don't have the job. the reason i want the job obviously isn't because of the money. it's for two reasons: one, it's a huge wine and beer warehouse with an incredible selection, and two, it may give me a new story telling canvas - new environment, new characters, customers, and lots of alcohol. sounds like a place ripe for interesting things to happen, and i'd like to have good stories to tell, like droopy. and right now i could use some interesting things to happen in my life, since it seems i've moved halfway across the globe in order to become jobless as well as infinitely bored. |
If so,I hope you already had yours cut! :) |
that was his first time getting drunk (this would've been in '83 or so). we drank in a room behind my garage. he was under the impression that if he ate pretzels, he wouldn't get drunk. he threw up a whole bag of pretzels. i wonder if there's a grapevine market near me. there's an über-mall called grapevine mills out in arlington somewheres. you have to go to the neighborhood bars, sarah. that's always where the most interesting drunks are. well, a lot of the time. |
it would have been funny if you answered him by saying something like, "well, that doesn't really narrow it down that much." http://www.grapevinemarket.com/ there's a neighborhood bar about 50 paces from my apartment called the tavern. it has a blinking blue neon light outside that says "air conditioning". it's low budget, low key, they broadcast sports up at the bar, and there are 2 pool tables upstairs. beer for good price. i really like it there. and i can stumble home. i'm not too hot on the whole 4th street and 6th street scenes. i haven't any money to go see music down there, or perhaps i'd like it more. lots of college students. it's weird here, i can't quite get a feel for this place. i'm oddly ummotivated to do much, to explore - even ride my bike on the nice trails around here. but i complain about not being outside enough. it's probably just plain ol' homesickness. |