This is NOT Over

Tuesday October 3, 1989 Airplane Liquor or Why People Look Well in the Dark

So I know I fucked up things with Scottie last night, but what’s that tired old expression…?

“When one door closes, go to your Post-Renaissance Spain quiz with a head full of answers and coat pockets full of airplane liquor.”

Allow me to elaborate.

Maybe before I elaborate I need to defend myself here since I refused to do it last night. I should’ve tried to offer a decent explanation for myself in front of that girl last night. Not because I was right. She was right. But she is my friend and I have to learn to pretend to care when I behave in such a crappy fashion. Doors will not always be open to me and I will turn myself into a lonely, miserable fuck…or become lonelier and miserablier in the process of going around, not giving a care.

I think I am down in the dumps because the White Sox season ended the other day with a 1-0 loss to the Cleveland Indians. My favorite team survived being shipped out of state only to go down the toilet and end up in last place. They’re 29 and ½ games out and they’ll never make that up now that the season is over.

And the Cubs are probably going to sweep the Giants, although I don’t know shit about the Giants…and then win the World Series. Then my Cub fan friends, especially from back home, are going to be glad the White Sox stayed so they can make fun of their barely relieved fans, just happy to have a team, watch the other team do the greatest thing in all sports…win the World Series.

Stupid Reinsdorf. The Sox’ll never win so long as he runs things. I'm sure he's a busy man what with finding ways to fuck up the Bulls. Stupid Reinsdorf.

I guess that’s no reason to treat my friend, or any woman, like an object. It’s just stupid baseball. When will I learn?

Now back to the airplane liquor thing.

Picked up some extra hours at the desk today and ran into Jenna McG just as my shift was ending. She was in a panic. When I asked what was bugging her she said that Prof H warned her if she failed another PR Spain quiz it would be an uphill climb for her for the rest of the semester. I told her life is usually an uphill climb but she didn’t seem to want to take my fucking advice. The only thing she seemed to care about was not failing this quiz.

I sort of repeated, from memory (and my memory is still pretty fucking good in spite of what I do to my head on a regular occasion)…

…but I repeated the conversation I had with Scottie from last night only this time I was the Scottie and Jenna was the me.

Fortunately we just did the Post Renaissance Spain part of the conversation not the slightly wasted guy trying to get some from the girl in the tank top part.

I wasn’t wearing a tank top.

Maybe that’s what I deserve but as far as I can tell in this life so far, nobody gets what they deserve…and I should hope I don’t get my just deserts for savaging the language like I just did.

She was grateful. She offered me a ride to class. I was grateful. Jenna has her dad’s Chevy Astro Van. My parents have an Astro Van. Driving to class with her was like having my mom drive me to class. There was something weirdly wonderful about that.

After the quiz Halizer called class early. Maybe his voice is giving out and the amplifier is no longer helping. My professor is more robot than man! No, he really is.

I was walking home when Jenna ran up to me and asked, “Where are you going?”

I told her I was on my way back to Douglass.

She said, “I gave you a ride here, you can ride with me back. I think I passed the quiz.”

“Me too,” I said.

It was a quiet night in the Douchable parking lot as we walked toward her van. Well, everything was quiet except for me.

“Are you clinking?” Jenna McG asked.

“Yup.”

“Why are you clinking?” she asked.

“Airplane liquor.”

And she laughed her ass off. I am a pretty funny motherfucker and I love to make girls laugh. I am also not so stupid as to think this makes me any more or less attractive to the ladies or gay men. People just like to laugh and I know how to make them do that, or my life is so stupid folks laugh when they are around me. Any way you look at it, there’s healing in that, isn’t there? Probably not, but making people laugh makes me think I do something productive with my days.

“You mean those little bottles that people drink when they are on airplanes because the airline won’t let them sell from the big bottles on the plane?” Jenna McG asked.

“Exactly.”

“Why do you have airplane liquor?” she asked.

“I think it was Bob Dylan who once said ‘Always keep a clear head and carry some airplane liquor’!”

Actually Dylan said one should always keep a clear head and carry a big light bulb but I wasn’t telling her that.

“Can I have some?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“We’ll drink it when I find an overnight space by the dorms ok?”

I nodded my head and followed her to the van. We drove back and she blasted Slippery When Wet. Maybe that explains why she needed help studying from a dummy like me.

I won’t pick on Jenna for having bad taste in music. She’s from Kokomo, Indiana. What do they have out there?

My favorite band is the Velvet Underground. They're not so hot either. I like it and fuck those for telling me that those guys can't play their instruments. So, fuck me for insinuating that Slippery When Wet is bad.

Sure it is bad, but fuck me anyway.

We found a space. She turned off the radio. The new lots are dark and creepy and far away from everything and maybe she wanted to give me a ride back to show her gratitude and maybe she didn’t want to walk back to our shitty five story dorm alone. Either way, I was fine riding with her.

“Shit or piss?” I asked.

“What?”

“I’ve got brown flavored airplane liquor, Old Granddad; or yellow-gold flavored liquor, this tequila with the label peeling off,” I explained.

“Are you sure that this one is tequila?” Jenna asked as she took the unlabeled, little yellow-gold bottle from my hand.

I waited until she brought the little bottle to her lips. Then I said, "No I'm not."

She spit. She laughed. Then she said, "You are funny. I wish my boyfriend had your sense of humor."

"Well he doesn't," I said.

We laughed and we drank.

We may have opened an extra bottle that I had in my black coat pocket.

Jenna McG had finished a swig, looked at me and said, "Thanks a lot. You helped me with the quiz and I really needed this tonight."

"No problem."

"I owe you," she said.

"If you mean that, let me do this," I reached in my pocket while Jenna took another swig. I brought out one of the mix tapes I made at the radio station. They have decent decks there and a better record collection than I do. There's no way I'm not going to slowly copy all this shit.

I popped out Bon Jovi and put it in the glove box. Then I put in my tape. It was already rewound to the beginning. The tape starts with Mrs. Tucker's wonderfully innocent vocal...

One, two three...

If you close the door
The night could last forever
Leave the sun shine out
And say hello to never

All the people are dancing and having such fun
I wish it could happen to me

But if you close the door
I'd never have to see the day again

If you close the door
The night could last forever
Leave the wine glass out
And drink a toast to never

Oh someday I know, someone will look into my eyes and say,
"Hello, you're my very special one”

But if you close the door
I'd never have to see the day again