This is NOT Over

Here is a life in desperate need of a rimshot

May 02, 2012

Wednesday May 2, 1990 The Drinks and the Joke’s

Contraction meant. Slept most of the day on Tuesday. Devin, Bill and I didn’t stop screwing around until almost 6am. It was even weirder than it sounds.

Susan stopped by, woke me up and took me to Sgt. Pepper’s for beer and a slice. I wish that was what it sounded like.

That was yesterday and I am now supposed to be writing about Wednesday. Between my few conscious hours on Tuesday and this morning and this afternoon, I invited a veritable plethora of people to the Flamingo where the drinks, according to me, were to be on me. Here’s part of the story of how all that came to pass.

The idea originated a few nights ago, the last time Amy got me drunk (the night we went to the Flamingo after watching movies in her room, I think). I said, “You got me drunk tonight, and that’s great. Now I should get you drunk.”

She probably had the presence of mind to respond, “But I’m already drunk and you have no money.”

Amy always has the presence of mind when I’m with her, no matter how much she’s had to drink.

Realizing the wisdom in what she theoretically said (and remember, we were drunk, that much is true) I think I said, “Then let’s come here another night. How about tomorrow? We’ll come back here tomorrow night and I’ll get you back and drunk then.”

Everyone laughed, because I am so fucking funny (or so fucking drunk).

Amy said she had a date the next night but would be up for coming back any Wednesday remaining in the semester.

I asked her, “Why Wednesday?”

She said, “It’s fun getting drunk on a Wednesday, don’t you think? I don’t ever want to live a life where I have to say ‘I can’t go out and get drunk with you on Wednesday because I have very important things to do on Thursday’…I hope it never comes to that.”

I raised my glass and said, “Here’s to us getting drunk together or apart, forever on Wednesdays!”

Then Marnie chimed in, “Bastards! I bought drinks too. What about me? I like Wednesdays!”

She was right. My first thought was that I’d get Marnie drunk on the night Amy had her date and then get Amy drunk the next night and alternate until Wednesday when we’d all be happily reunited, drunk together. They didn’t like that or didn’t believe I’d be able to afford all those drinks on back-to-back nights. Those girls are smart that way.

Then there was a lot of yelling and screaming and Marnie called us bastards a few more times.

Somehow it was decided that I would buy drinks for both girls on Wednesday May 2. We all wrote the date on our hands. Then we spit in our hands and shook on it. I’m not sure how the ink held up. I remember my hand having some blurred out writing on it the next day, but most things are blurry to me when I get out of bed.

It’s only fair to pay Marnie and the Aim-dog. They’ve been great drinking pals to me recently, helping me out when I have no money and not riding me too hard when they drink me under the table. They are professional drinkers and have the money to support that lifestyle. I know I have stated elsewhere my thoughts on the questionable virtues of being able to consume insane amounts of alcohol. I can’t do it and I am usually not impressed by those who can. These girls can, and somehow manage to stay cool in spite of drinking tons of booze on an average night, and are interesting when sober.

Or maybe I am usually so drunk when I am with them that I can’t judge these things accurately. Who cares? Bully for them and their livers. I feel lucky to be their friend.

If it ended with me extending an invitation to take Marnie and Amy out drinking it would’ve been fine, but as is often the case with me nothing ends where it is supposed to end. Not even the band aids stick where they’re supposed to. Even that thought should’ve ended sooner.

Knowing that I was treating Amy and Marnie to drinks I figured I better invite Engels. Mark’s bought me more drinks than I will be able to buy him in this life and/or the next. Then I thought about Devin. We’ve been playing mucho guitar lately and none of the serious musicians around here ever take me seriously. Also, when we are playing I always seem to run out of cigarettes and he never does. He is the goose that lays Marlboro Lights and it is up to me to reward him for that. Besides, what if I run out of cigarettes at the bar?

I also invited Susan while we were eating pizza and drinking beer on Tuesday. Sure, she was buying me pizza and beer and that may be part of the reason I invited her to the Flamingo. But on the odd chance that something happens between Amy and me, or Marnie and me…I want to stick it in her face.

That’s just not right, but no one ever said this story would end up “right” when I began telling it. Knowing me as I think I do, there’s little chance of that happening. Ever.

I invited other people too, too many people to list here. When they asked some variation of, ‘What’s the occasion ed?’ I told them, “We are drinking to celebrate Bill Garver’s graduation.” Folks were definitely up for that. Everyone loves Bill and everyone loves to drink. That’s a lot of love and everybody loves love. I think I am a future beer commercial based on definitional reductionism waiting to happen. In the meantime, there’s a party at the Flamingo to plan.

Only two minor problems, I have no money and I’m not sure I mentioned anything about this to Bill.

posted by edP # 9:46 AM

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This is NOT Over

May 02, 2012

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