"We tell what we were like"

I moved to Colobocomo to get drunk and stay drunk. There was some money in the bank, just enough for me to live like a rich man for a few months. Well dressed, not working, living downtown in a fairly clean, well furnished media crib. I didn't have to drive anywhere. I hoped to get laid but staying drunk was a prerequisite just leaving the house, so I wasn't attractive. Or even cheerful and outgoing most of the time, it turned out.

When I arrived I knew Ma and Pa Kettle and the kids, and I had one other good friend. She disapproved more strongly, and quite naturally, that I was living as if preparing to die. I had no plans. Everyone disapproved, of course, in their own way. ...

Up t' town is just the right size for me and has all the stores, pubs, theatres, shops, and coffee houses I'd ever care to visit. It was adjacent to the campus too, so at times the sidewalks were as crowded as a subway metropolis.

I had the same walk every night, to the same four or five taverns. Two of them were owned by women my age, "Miss Kittys" I called them, I hoped to marry. But I couldn't keep their frakin names straight. Always calling Debra Cindy, and Cindy Debra. They looked alike. They looked good. And they were friendly...so nice really! Hm. I'd marry one of them and help out.

Then there was one bar where I didn't like anyone. I still went, usually my last stop. Open the door and walk into a wall of noise that filled me with hatred. I don't know why, but I kept going. The girls were pretty, and drunk, and possible. The bar owner was a town character, a reconteur from New Jersy, and he helped me get to know the two Miss Kittys.

There wasn't always a Death Metal band playing when I walked in there. Sometimes it was nice and quiet. Or, the band would be tuning up and I'd be bracing myself, angry that whatever conversation I was having would be impossible soon.

They'd start to play and I'd flip them the bird. Make ugly faces, mouth the words "Fuck you. FUCK you. You. Fuck ya") It was past midnight usually.



This fellow, the bouncer, ejected me once for answering a challenge to a fight.
(You do bounce, you know. You're drunk and all relaxed and it's like how inebriates survive car-wrecks where six sober people die.) I believe he was very surprised at me that night, late in my game, when I stopped dressing so good and tipping so well.

The math gave me until October, and then I told myself I'd get a job, if it came to that. But I was in no shape for a job. ...

Thanks for visiting. Much less of this, later.