Beer & Wine

[bfj]

This just happened, thought I'd pen it while it was fresh.

A crisp Monday evening and nothing was really cooking. I tried to get in contact with some ladies, but no one was around. I tried to get in contact with some people I was working on some films with, but no one was around. And all my best friend's were in other states and other countries. So I decided to make myself productive and do some editing on a film that was long overdue. I'd need some wine first. I was running low on cigarettes too.

I ate a nice pasta dinner. It had been the first time I'd cooked in a couple months and after neatly doing the dishes, I put on my coat and headed out into the frozen night.

I met a cute girl on the sidewalk as she carried a case of beer. Unfortunately the beer had been spoken for so I'd have to stick to plan A.

As I passed the meter parking, a guy jumped out of his car and called to me. "Hey buddy, hey buddy! Can I talk to you?"

I walked over and he continued. "I don't mean to be a bum or anything. I see people out here begging for money all the time but I need some gas money to get home. I'll sell you this Heiniken for some gas money." He held up a 24 ounce beer.

"All right," I said opening up my wallet. "How much?"

"Whatever you think man." I pulled out four dollars. I really wanted wine though.

"How about four?"

"Oh wow thanks man." He took the money and handed me the beer. It was still cold. Or would always be cold. It was like forty degrees out.

"You don't have a bag or anything do you?"

"Oh yeah, and a receipt," he laughed. Well shit. I stuffed the beer into my pocket with just the neck of the bottle hanging out and went on my way to the liqour store.

I walked past my local pub and glanced in. There was a good crowd. I surveyed the haircuts, but seeing nothing familiar, I decided making new friends tonight wasn't worth the effort. I walked into the liqour store.

The Monday Night football game was playing on the television and the Indian couple that ran the place were talking about the Dallas Cowboys.

"Good Evening," the lady tossed out like one of those bells that rings when you open a door. She didn't take her eyes off the game.

"Hello." I wandered toward the wine. When I started out I had fourteen dollars, had given four to the guy for the beer, and need to stretch the final ten into some Camels and what was now going to be a very cheap bottle of wine. As I searched the prices, I realized I had the fourty ounce in my pocket. Like a moron I had just walked into a liquor store with a cold bottle of beer stuffed into my jacket. Maybe I should show them. Crap. It was too late. I'd been in the store for a couple of minutes.

I finally found a Merlot and walked to the counter. I shielded the beer with my arm and ordered up the cigarettes. I layed my I.D down and she studied it.

"Let me see your face." Worthless I.D. When I moved from California and went to the D.M.V. here in Wisconsin they said they had my picture on file. I assumed it was through some national security computer network and that they would have my California picture. When I got the I.D. I looked at my sixteen year-old face staring back at me like a tough guy. Shit. I had zits and everything and some sort of short crew cut hairstyle. "This doesn't look like you," she mused.

"It's me. I swear." I looked down at myself. I was wearing the same faded blue shirt that I was wearing nine years ago when the picture was taken. Bloody hell I was a bum. Nine years and still the same shirt. The white collar was tattered and fraying. When's my ship coming in? I had three-hundred dollars in the bank and was spending my only cash on booze.

"Look. I'm wearing the same shirt!" I opened up my jacket; careful of the beer I was hiding behind the register. I glance over at the old man but he was still watching his football. I didn't know Indians liked football. I'd always seen them playing cricket.

"Hmmm... okay. Ten Tenty-To," she said in a thick Kashmir accent. I payed and turned away from her. I was going to make it. I got to the door and then... I heard...

"Look at him. He is stealing!" The old man was on me now. I turned.

"No, no I'm not! I bought this before I came here!" He got up and pointed.

"No you are stealing. Where did you buy such an item then?" They were the only liqour store on the street.

"I got it from this guy. On the street."

"I should call the police. They will take care of you!" I rushed to the counter.

"No, no please. Honest I didn't steal it." I tried to tell them the story.

"Then maybe you should buy it or I call the police."

"Fine, fine. I'll buy it." I walked to the register. The old lady met me there. She was shaking her head and muttering in Hindu. "How much?"

"Two fiftee nine." Great. I'd overpaid. I handed her my debit card.

"All debit must be more than five dollars."

"I'll take more cigarettes," I sighed. I ran my card and turned to leave.

"You should not try to steal," the woman advised.

"Maybe we should cut his hand off," the old man remarked.

"Maybe my head," I tossed back over my shoulder. The bells at the door rang again and I was out--back into the cold.

No wonder I can't get ahead. I've got a cottage that's sinking my right now since me and my missus split. I should have had her sign the lease. The band in the basement was too broke to pay me and the electricity was going up. I never figured I'd have to buy condoms. Bush was supposed to take Iraq and get us some oil but he'd fucked that one up too. And down the street the meter maid was writing me a ticket. At least I had plenty of beer and wine.

[Maverick]

That sounds like something that would happen to McCutcheon...only if it had been him, he would have taken the guy who needed gas money into the liquor store, ended up getting caught for stealingthe 40 while secretly hiding 3 bottles of the best wine and 2 packs of cigarrettes underhis coat. While he paid for the 40, a high school girls volleyball team would have come in the door looking for potato chips. while they distracted the Indian couple, he's have slipped out with all his money and all the alcohol, grabbing as many asses and rubbing up against as many young, athletic creasts as he could on his way to the door. Outside, doing a victory dance with his wine and cigarrettes, he'd realize that he left his credit card and ID inside. Unable to go in himself since he had all the stolen wine, he'd send in the gas money guy, who'd take the card and ID and slip out the back way, not even stopping to grope any High School girls.

Sound realistic?

[mccutcheon]

everything but the creasts.

[Maverick]

Breasts dumbass

[mccutcheon]

Ralphie boy I love you but I can't help I've had higher highs and lower lows than you have had. My take on it all my friend. I'm sure you feel you are living a better life and I don't doubt it.

[Maverick]

Wow..philosophical. No, I don't feel that I am living a better life than you. I think everyone here knows that I consider you one of my best friends, the kind I will have for the rest of my life, despite our differences, despite our similarities.

It is true, you Have most likely had higher highs and lower lows than me-but there is the part of me that could have been, under slightly different circumstances much like you.

A part of me is suspicious, paranoid, logical and slightly militaristic. Another part of me is hedonistic, passionate, creative and willing to try anything. THese parts constantly vie for control, and consequently I have always been drawn to friends who pull me to one side or the other. I have enjoyed the times we have spent together, even though most of them have been pretty tame by your standards.

I feel that you have opposing sides as well. You are the 24 hour party person who lives, loves and moves on, and you are a traditionalist who would love to meet the perfect person to share everything with. You have a creative dream that is attainable but unsure, and you are practical enough to hold a good job until that elusive success happens.

See, we're not so different, except for the fact that I could probably pass a drug test easier...and someday you may have someone elses' liver.

I also know something that you may think is a secret. I realize that statement sounds dramatic and cryptic...it isn't, and I suspect most of those close to you already know it. Of all of the things you search for-fame, fortune, pleasure, the thing that will fulfill you most is love. Everything you do is in search of and in fear of that love.

Once again, we're not so different-you and I, or anyone else on this board or on this planet.

[Maverick]

where the hell did that come from?...a reaction to reading the recent NY scribbles I guess. Hope it didn't come across too sappy. THere are some good points in there, I guess.

[mccutcheon]

You wrote 'creasts' dumbass. I wish I could hug you. You have always been there for me and I will always be there for you. Remember 9/11 -- like we can forget it. If that is sappy, they can all fuck off. It's my site and I'll sappy if I want to.