Drinks, Drugs and Dreams: September 2008

(Vicious… By Lou Reed)
The bar was always more alive with her there. It could be a Tuesday night with no one there but if Kellie was there…that was all that was needed. She was so thin, tall elegant and so very beautiful. She had the face of an angel and the heart of a saint. I never really figured out why she hung out with me. I guess it’s because I was more in love with the booze than pussy. I guess she was tired of every guy that she met wanting to get into her pants just because she liked to drink. She was no slut…but she was out of place here in this bar and especially with me. She was the love that I needed. She was the only person other than my mother that felt sorry for me. She was the only love I had these days. That and my draft beer and shot of Jack Daniels was good enough for me.
I love to look at her from a distance. She is like one of those paintings that you just can’t take your eyes off of. I couldn’t stop looking at her when she was at the juke box looking for something bluesy, something that was rotting the pit of my soul and needed to come out of the bar’s speakers. I see her dial the number for the song she thinks is perfect. She knows how much I like David Bowie but she dials something else, more movable…more danceable. The song starts loud and strong with a steady beat. She straightens up and turns my way. I’m polite and wait for her before slamming my Jack Daniels. She starts making her way towards the table where her drink and I await. She moves her skinny model like hips to the beat. She is just so beautiful. Her jeans, her shirt and her hair all made for this perfect scene.
I didn’t know much about her. She didn’t talk too much about her family or her past. She just existed. That was all I needed. A fellow drunk to be with me at the bar. She never asked me about my past or my family…all she wanted was company and not some asshole trying to fuck her. Or maybe she just wanted someone to sit with at the bar so no other guys would be hitting on her. I guess I did the job although im not a tough guy. I’m a drunk with a beautiful girl sitting with him. Beauty and Drink. At the time she sat down she has a smile on her face which is met by my greatest effort not to bum her out. I smirk so she knows I’m good enough for a few drinks.
The day has been long for me even though I woke up around one in the afternoon. It seemed like 8pm would never roll around to get my fix. At around 6 thirty she had called me right when I was going through the last shakes of my hangover. It was a good thing it is winter time. I couldn’t handle this type of hangover during the summer. My back was on fire and my head was throbbing. The cold helps out a lot. About an hour after she called I’m outside the pad waiting for her with a cigarette in my hand. Its cold but man its good for me. I open the door to her Amigo and hop in. She looks at me with a smile that tells me we are going to get wasted. I return the smile.
So here I am at the bar as per usual and she says to me that it was kind of dead. I agree. She tells me that it was a clear night and that maybe in an effort to save some money we should go by the liquor store and buy some forties and head up to the air port and stare at the landing lights as the planes land. I agree with her. So we pay the drinks and take off.
Once in her car she searches her collection of discs and once we are set with some Lou Reed we are on our way. We hit the Centennial and walk out with 4 forties of malt liquor. It was cheap and it did the trick. It was all we needed. All we needed other than our mutual company. I cant stop thinking about the looks I get when I’m in the liquor store. The typical look that says “what tha fuck is she doing with this looser”. If I was super preoccupied with picking up chicks I would take it as a compliment, but im too hung over to care about it. The teller looks at us when we get to the counter with the same look and Kellie makes it worse by putting her arm around me and pulling me close to her. She smells great. If my mind wasn’t so fucked up desperate for the booze I might of got a hard on by her smell.
Once at the air port or really across the street from the runway we park. It is a clear night and the lights shine bright on the runway. The air is cold and very crisp. We open the windows of the car and start with the first forty. We light cigarettes because nothing is better with cheap booze than a nice Marlboro red. In my drunken haze, the toxins from the night before left behind from a bottle of Smirnoff mixing with the new poison from the St. Ides is making for a great potion in my blood stream. At this moment I am totally content. I have my fix. My company, my music and most importantly my booze.
I don’t know why Kellie and I get along so well. Other than music and booze we have nothing in common. I don’t know how she feels about me but I love her. Not in a “I want to get married” sort of way. I love her because she is my friend and she makes me feel like I’m not a total waste. I feel bad for her though. It almost seems like she is being punished by having to hang out with me. I wish I had something more to offer her, but all I can offer her is my friendship. I’m not as good looking as her, and certainly not as tall as her, and I don’t know if I can protect her if we ever got into any trouble. I don’t question the situation, I’m just happy to be around someone so beautiful on the inside as well as the outside.

Aramis talks to his beautiful friend in the car and watch the night and planes go by. They laugh while Lou Reed plays. Aramis doesn’t know it but this will be the last time he is out with Kellie. They laugh at the stupid jokes made by one or the other. They enjoy each others company. A couple of spaces away another car parks. Neither Kellie nor Aramis notice the car or the three men inside.

The night was crisp as well was the aluminum bat that hit me across my back. All I could hear was a bunch of yelling. I could make out the words “Quit IT!” being screamed. It was Kellie’s voice. She was being held back. All I could see was a blur. These bastards really ruined my night. I had just opened my second forty. I try to cover my head from the kicks that are breaking air all around my ears. They somehow seem to hit me everywhere at once. I try to roll around and catch a punch near my right eye, which pushes me into some broken glass from the forty I dropped when they pulled me out of the car. The side of my face is pierced by the glass. Then I catch a boot near my chin and lower lip. I thought I was out at this point but then the last thing I felt was a kick right in the mouth of my stomach. I groan, I cough and spit out some blood. I hear some last words being screamed at me by one of the bastards. Then I’m out.
One of the men from the car was trying to keep Kellies attention on his words. She kept trying to break free from his grip. Her tears ruined her makeup. She was scared that she couldn’t look but at the same time wanted to get the other two men off of Aramis. She screamed many times for them to leave him alone. He wasn’t a big guy and was no match for the two men. Aramis was rolling around trying to cover his head and not take too many hits.
They slammed Aramis’ head on the pavement which by now was stained with his blood. The man holding her and trying to get her to listen to his screaming threats pushed her against the car. Kellie brings one sleeve up to her lips that covered in saliva and tears and wipes. Her eyes set dead on her friend on the ground bleeding. Just then one of the thugs decided he hasn’t had enough and walks over with the bat and rolls Aramis on his back and raises the bat in the air. Kellie reacts and tries to thrust herself to stop him but the other two men hold her. A siren sounds off two chirps and the blue and red lights light up the parking lot. The men make a break towards their car. Kellie makes her way to her knees and puts Aramis head on her lap. She tries to wipe the blood off of his mouth. She caresses his head. He is the closest thing she has come to love in quite some time. Not the kind of love that makes a boyfriend but the kind that cant be explained but you know will last. The police walk up to her and make her put her hands in the air. They frisk her and then check the vitals on Aramis. The three men are burning up the road as they speed away.

Drinks, Drugs and Dreams

Saturday, September 20, 2008

The story of a drunk told through a couple of songs 5

A Prayer

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