yes

[Sombra]

It's eight months or so later. My friend and his wife are over, it's about 9 am. I'm drinking from a fifth of Bacardi. I pass it to my friend but he declines.

 

"Much as I'd like, I'm getting knee surgery again in a couple hours. If they put me under on that shit I'd never come back up." I take another swig.

 

"And then they tell me, nothing but clear liquids for two weeks! Well, I'm thinking to myself, vodka's a clear liquid..." I laugh. His wife sighs and rolls her eyes.

 

I used to date her when we were kids. My friend picked her up on the rebound. There is no animosity between the two of us any more. At the end there was no love and all that kept it together was the very human fear of change.

 

They've brought along four white mice. The situation is that I have two pythons which were given to me by them because they were moving and I professed that I liked the snakes after he let me hold them a few times. Nothing quite as relaxing as sitting back while you're on a good dose of diazepam, drifting off with a mobile masseuse on your neck. During these times, we didn't talk much. Maybe it was the benzos, but once you reach a certain level of friendship, you can read each other. Words seem hollow and unnecessary.

 

I drop a mouse in each tub which I've transferred the snakes to. I am not the type of person that finds snakes killing things fascinating and it doesn't revolt me either. It's just a part of owning them I guess. They are taking a while to eat and I'm in a bit of a hurry.

 

My mom shows up. She's giving me a ride to the airport. The female is just finishing with her first mouse. I don't have time to feed her the other so I put the last mouse in the snake's cage. When I am taking the girl out of the tub, she bites me on the finger. There is no pain, a bite from a ball python hurts less than a cat bite and I don't move my hand. Jerking your hand away while a snake's fangs are locked into you is exactly what you don't want to do. I wait for the snake to let go. My friend tells me that he's heard of people pushing its head forward so the fangs come right out. My mom is doing the usual mother thing, hyperventilating and overreacting. The snake lets go. The thing about these bites is they bleed a lot even though they aren't deep. The sight of blood sends my mother into the bathroom and I hear the door shut. I wash the blood off and take another hit from the fifth. She comes out. It's time to go. I bid my friend goodbye and give him a handful of old coins. He's into collecting and I know he can get a better deal for them than me. I take a final hit and put the rum in the fridge.

 

The drive is pretty uneventful. At the airport my mother gives me $50. I thank her and wish her goodbye. I have about 2 hours before my plane goes so I find a bar once I'm past the metal detectors. It's insane how much money you can spend at bars. Airport bars are even worse. I order a double shot of rum in a coke. It's a little stronger than I expected so I get a single next. I switch to Kahlua on the rocks and drink 3 or 4 doubles of this. Eventually the bartender cuts me off and tells me I need to get to my flight. I leave a tip and head toward my plane. My memory of the next few hours is pretty hazy. I sit down on the plane and some couple walks up.

"That's our seat," he says.

"Does it really matter?"

He gives a sigh and nods. "Yeah."

 

I get up and find a new spot next to two old ladies. They seem nice enough and I guess I came across as respectful even though I'm completely drunk at this point. When we're up a stewardess comes back and I ask them if they have Miller. I hand her my ID and she says they have lite. I hate this beer but it's better than nothing. She asks for my card and I tell her I don't have one so I hand her a five. She appears frustrated but she takes it and hands me a cool one.

 

I remember staring at a book that I'd brought with me but absorbed nothing. It was just something to do. I spend time looking out the window. I find a bar once I'm in the Raleigh airport. I order a tall hefeweizen. I enjoy it so I ask the bartender to write the name down on a slip of paper and then I slip away from the bar, on my way toward a ten day vacation...

[I1I1I1I1I1I1I11111I1I1I1IIIIIII1I1I1I1I11I]

Did you write this? I'd really like to hear the end of it my friend!

[Sombra]

Yes, I did.

I'll show you the end as soon as I write it I suppose.

[buttplug]

I like it, I want to read more.

[AmberArachnidClock]

that's some good writing.

[Sombra]

I left the airport and met my dad outside. All Iââ,¬â,,¢d brought was a single bag carry on so I didnââ,¬â,,¢t have to wait for luggage to come around. I saw him, raised a hand in greeting and walked up. We embraced.

 
Good to see you, dad.

 
Good to see you too, son.


We make it back to his truck and leave Raleigh. I was tired and didnââ,¬â,,¢t feel like doing much once we got back. We pulled in and I heard a familiar bark that I hadnââ,¬â,,¢t heard in a while. Opening the door I see our old German Shepherd that weââ,¬â,,¢d gotten back in 2001. Sheââ,¬â,,¢s a good reliable dog.

 
I found an acoustic guitar in a box in the room I was to sleep in while I was visiting.

 
ââ,¬Å"You didnââ,¬â,,¢t spend too much on this, did you dad?ââ,¬Â

 
ââ,¬Å"Nope, found a good deal at Costco an' grabbed it so you can keep practicing.ââ,¬Â

 
I took it out of the box. It sounded pretty clean and sharp for the price. My dad asked if I want to go up to his bossââ,¬â,,¢ place to ââ,¬Å"watch the gameââ,¬Â with him. I donââ,¬â,,¢t watch sports but I agree anyway. I bring my guitar as something to do.


Weââ,¬â,,¢re there. Itââ,¬â,,¢s me, his boss, a co-worker named Nick, and his bossââ,¬â,,¢ son who is about a year younger than me. I silently try to play a few songs but I am still pretty drunk so I put the guitar away.

 
I wake up the next day. There are a few empty beer cans next to the bed.

 
My dad has already left for work for the day. I donââ,¬â,,¢t do much. I practice guitar for a while, read, browse the internet.


Itââ,¬â,,¢s the next morning. My sleep schedule is that Iââ,¬â,,¢m waking up at about 4 am because of a Korean tournament that I watch.


Thereââ,¬â,,¢s nothing on this morning so I watch a few old Bond movies instead. My dad has a collection of them all. I absolutely hated the old ones when I was a kid but now they remind me of my childhood a little. I remember countless nights falling asleep on the couch with my dad in the easy chair, Bond fending off Jaws or Oddjob as best he could, oblivious to our dozing.
 

He wants to go to a local bar, Nick is driving and I agree to go along. The three of us get there after waking up from naps. I feel old napping at 7 pm but I no longer have any shame in doing it.

 
At the bar I am rubbing sleep from my eyes and feel like getting jagerbombs but bars always overcharge anything with hard alcohol in it so I get beer instead. Nick and my dad are complaining about the bar being empty. I look around from the barstool. There are about 20 people I can see plus staff. I am not accustomed to bar culture so I do not comment.


A girl sat down next to me at some point. She is around 30 pounds heavier than me and about 4 inches taller.

ââ,¬Å"Drew?ââ,¬Â


ââ,¬Å"Hi.ââ,¬Â


ââ,¬Å"I work with your pa, he tells me youââ,¬â,,¢re not from around here?ââ,¬Â


I am cringing a little on the inside. The situation must seem pretty dire if my dad is hooking me up with coworkers at dive bars halfway across the country.


ââ,¬Å"Thatââ,¬â,,¢s right.ââ,¬Â

 
ââ,¬Å"Yââ,¬â,,¢all are from Michigan, right?ââ,¬Â

 
ââ,¬Å"Go blue,ââ,¬Â I say. I donââ,¬â,,¢t think she gets it but she laughs anyway.

 
ââ,¬Å"Whaddya like to do in your free time?ââ,¬Â At this point weââ,¬â,,¢re almost yelling to hear ourselves over a bar band playing on the stage. Theyââ,¬â,,¢re not very good.


ââ,¬Å"Lay around and drink, mostly.ââ,¬Â


ââ,¬Å"What? These guys are too loud!ââ,¬Â


ââ,¬Å"Oh, books, music, long walks on the beach, you knowââ,¬Â¦Ã¢â,¬Â


My memory becomes fragmented. The girl must have left at some point. I think I remember throwing up in the barââ,¬â,,¢s john. Weââ,¬â,,¢re driving home, all drunk. There is a police checkpoint up ahead. We have no choice but to go through it since fleeing is a sure sign of guilt. We roll up to a uniformed cop standing on the side of the road with a 3 cell mag light gripped like a club in his left hand. It is 1 am and we all must smell of booze.

 
ââ,¬Å"Let me have your license,ââ,¬Â the cop says to Nick. The cop looks bored with it all. He shines the big light around in the car for a moment. He eyes the ID, takes another look at us.

 
ââ,¬Å"Okay,ââ,¬Â he says, hands the ID back. He waves his hand ahead and looks back in the distance from where we came from. We creep away into the darkness.


ââ,¬Å"I told you, that shit is legal down here,ââ,¬Â my dad is saying to me. I shake my head in disgust.

[Lump Clock]

This is really some riveting stuff, Rum. So strange that it's nothing more than the story of your vacation. The way you write makes it seem as if it is building towards something, but I believe it won't. I'm quite content with that.

[TelephoneClock]

It doesn't seem like you're trying too hard to make any of these characters into stereotypes, which is nice. It's very enjoyable to read, and I'm excited for the next part whenever you feel like releasing it.