Monday, June 6, 2011

SS Squared- Teaser

In he strode, confident as the day was long. No thats all wrong what the hell does that even mean. How should I say this where could I even begin. How does one start when the end is still being written and the beginning is as much legend, half lies and opinionated truth as a Shakespearean tragedy rolled into an Aesopean Fable. I guess if I had to start somewhere I would have to start with the one place that wouldn't change no matter how often the characters that visited it might. I would have to start with the bar. Things always started and ended at the bar. They always have and they always will. Relationships, friendships, affairs, and gossip all shared their social galaxial center on those creaky unstable red stools.(At least for this group of individuals the bar provided this maybe for others it was the gym, or the University, or the studio or one of a thousand other places where people of like minds gather to socialize, laugh, blow off steam and fuck. No other place provided such a fertile(no pun intended) place to fuck. Certainly not the University and the gym only catered to a certain type of person and its not like protein shakes and energy bars had the same type of social liberation that a cold glass of beer and loud music did. If someone was down on their luck or having a bad day maybe with a few beers and one liners they could fuck their pain away if only for the night. The gym and certainly not the University could make that same promise.) Ah those creaky red stools many a story was interrupted by the inadvertent tumbling of an afternoon drunk onto the slick beer soaked floor. It was expected like hearing Semi Sonic's "Closing Time" after the bartender called out for the last call. It was a frame of reference, the loud crash echoing through the fog of cigarette smoke signaling that others besides yourself were also out there doing whatever it was that others did, reminding you of where you were and that you were not alone with your whiskey and misery. It happened so often that little shame was ever evidenced by the participants in this afternoon ritual. Simply wipe yourself off, take a sip, gingerly get back on the stool and continue with the story. The stories, oh my were there stories, they're what kept me coming back. I could get a cheaper beer elsewhere and the food wasn't the best but the company I kept and the stories that were told is what kept me around. Like the one Cynthia always told when she had one too many bourbon and sodas. Cynthia was not an inner member of my group but one of those social acquittance's its always nice to run into when she or you were a few drinks into a nice deep boozing session. It was better when both of you were imbibing because she had a grating high pitched nasally way of speaking that reminded me of someone that had a sinus cold and then swallowed too much helium. This fact was simply dismissed and in fact added to the whole spectacle of her ridiculous stories as long as I was on my 6th Jameson and ginger. I've heard Cynthia's story a hundred times, this should tell you something about both of our drinking habits, so I could basically tell you it myself adding my own little twists and turns as it is. In fact I often do just that when I'm drinking with people that don't know her and we are exchanging the typical "Well, one time a friend of mine..." Despite this fact no one can tell the story better than her so I'll let her tell it.

At first no one believes me at least thats what their faces tell me. You know that look you involuntarily give someone when you smell bullshit the half smiling, half wincing patient grin that says I don't believe a word of this but continue anyways. I know I give that look every time my Uncle Ronnie opens his mouth to tell us about one of his Rambo inspired Vietnam adventures. Honestly I don't give a fuck whether you believe me or not even if you don't you'll still get a laugh out of it. It all happened the summer of my 23rd birthday...

2 comments:

willowchronicles said...

Great descript details... made me feel like I was sitting in the smokey bar with you.

willowchronicles said...

Let's hear the story, I'm hooked, catch me.