accidental fricker.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

10:45PM

you wanna hear something funny?
the first conversation i had today went something like this…
“do you even remember my name?”
“no. but it’s probably better that way. i can’t tell anybody about you.”

and then i put my shirt on and walked out the door and got an uber. it was only then that i realized where i was.

it’s mostly a lot of short-term thinking for me in the dog days of summer. white knuckle it. make it just a little longer. get around that next corner. i was drinking by myself and got sick of the company on sunday evening so i got a ride to the nearest downtown, hopkins, to see if there was any hope at some more pleasant company. there wasn’t. and considering i should have known the odds against and also shouldn’t have felt the need to do anything it wasn’t a smart move. just ubering to go drink somewhere so that you can be drinking somewhere not your apartment isn’t a very forward thinking proposition. and even though there was a lack of a crowd at those bars there was no lack of stupid comments. which should also not have been a surprise.

“but in high school i played fast pitch softball. so i can take the heat.”

yes bitch. that’s what you should think when you watch professional football athletes.

and the bartender at some divey joint always wants to make sure you know that he has a shot there and everyone that comes in always takes it. worldwide fame! i can’t remember the name of the shot but it wasn’t far off something that would pop up in an action bubble in a cartoon and it tasted like 3 layers — sugar and high school and shame. look motherfucker i just want a fernet, a rumple, or a jameson. that’s it. if this were a country western i would pistol whip you. i took his stupid fucking shot and then realized i would turn into a pumpkin if i didn’t get home soon. i was done for.

i’ve been spending a lot of time in ubers. as friendly as i try to be i have to admit it’s hella nice when they aren’t trying to have a conversation with me. especially at 8:11AM after a heavy night of revelry and a little bit of an awkward start to the day. i don’t need to air that shit out with jeremy in the toyota camry and his five stars. i just need to sit there and simultaneously think while trying not to think too hard.

my escape driver (jeremy) swung through downtown to avoid some traffic and i got a nice glimpse of a metro starbucks in that bustling hour before the stiffs need to report to their cubicles. saw some slick dressed fucking guy with his fucking sunglasses and watch and thought “i could be that guy!” the coffee in hand at quarter after eight guy. getting on my hustle to work guy. but to be that guy i would have to care a whole hell of a lot more about a whole hell of a lot of different things than what i prioritize now. it would take a cosmic shift for me to be that guy, and it might be hubris only that allows me to say i could be capable of making the jump. there’s a catalogue of reasons that guy doesn’t smell like jameson and mystery girl’s bed on a random tuesday dawn.

tuesdays have been entertaining as of late. and that’s nice. they do some heavy lifting for some of the shit saturdays i’ve dove into. rebelling in midweek has always had a bit of charm to me. feels more pirate-y. something about getting drunk when it’s a little less socially acceptable is like a nice middle finger to the domesticated world and a completely undeserved middle finger to coffee at 8:10AM guy, who did nothing wrong other than sit outside that starbucks one morning and become the victim of my scorn for it. a symbol of the life i keep saying i won’t have.

“I’m reading an article about to frack or not frack.”
“not to be confused with to frick or not to frick. which is a real difficult one itself.”
“#troof.”
“sober mike and drunk mike don’t always agree on the issue. which leads to the classic accidental frick.”
“Hahaha “accidental fricks” are the worst and also sometimes the best.”
“true. morally the worst. but god damn they are all my best stories.”

instead of “all my best” i should have said “generally entertaining.” caught up in the moment.

a couple weeks ago i took a tuesday night to drive 3.5 hours one way for one night because it was my friend chan’s 35th birthday and i love chan so i wanted to show up. this also marked the two year anniversary of me and chan allegedly getting our bare asses checked for alleged drugs by the canadian border patrol on our way to a dwight yoakam concert in winnipeg for his 33rd birthday. but that’s another story entirely and i maintain my innocence.

i was westbound on 94 out of the city for the second time in four days. but the weather not quite as nice and it not the weekend. so the traffic not nearly as present. it struck me as a sort of evidence of the psychosis of living in the city that every time it gets sunny and people get a few days off they head for the more open spaces. makes me realize more and more that my old man was on to something buying that lot and putting up a house 12 miles from the nearest “city.” the world is hot, flat, and crowded.

birthday night began with tacos and beers. few things make me as giddy as a nice plate of tacos served up with a cold cerveza. and i should have known at the time that the night would end up strange and not only because most of them do for me. but it was an eerie combination of other STUFF. certain friends certain days certain distance travelled. certain feelings. probably was a more than even bet that we would end up at the strip club. and we did. and even that seemed normal. and when a girl who i used to see sometimes in that town, let’s call her amanda, decided to hit me up very late i was in no position to tell her i didn’t want to kiss her face. she even offered to come pick me up from the strip club. bless her soul. drunk mike wasn’t entirely paying attention on the ride to hers, but he had enough of his wits about him to think that the night didn’t need to be over after he was done kissing her face. it’s also completely possible that some performance enhancers helped him believe it wasn’t the time for bed. it seems important somehow to note that amanda’s dog watched all of this.

drunk mike laid there at amanda’s place and couldn’t sleep and took out his phone and remembered that another past acquaintance, let’s call her heather, was still awake and looking for company. so he went on google maps and realized that amanda lived only half a block from heather. he made up some bull shit lie about going back to meet up with the boys and stumbled to heather’s (commando, i should add…getting entirely dressed was a challenge.) then he kissed heather’s face. oops. you girls wanna become eskimo sisters in the span of a half hour? i can help you with that. it seems important somehow to note that heather’s cat watched all of this.

there ain’t no moral to the story. i just think it’s all funny. and i’m sorry if that makes me shallow or whatever. actually i’m not. i’m just trying to laugh my way across the stage before i end up taking a dirt nap and i’m not the sort of guy who does a great job compartmentalizing all of it. life isn’t a cumulation of logical events for somebody like me. it’s a fucking tidal wave that throws a ton of shit around and leaves it to me to sort out, knowing that whether i’m good at sorting it or not i am going to end up in the same dirt nap — taking nothing with me. i just hope it doesn’t end on a tuesday. i have been laughing a lot on tuesdays. ciao.