The Wilderness Years - Missed the train to Mars

When one is working 70 plus hours a week it's the small things that keep you sane, the three or four minutes of a pop song that allow you the respite of an oppressive universe, allow you to daydream and to forget those three inches in front of your face just long enough to get you through til the next break or off shift, it was the 95th summer of the twentieth century and i spent my days and nights covered in fry grease and sweat and when it wasn't fry grease and sweat it was hunks of bloody beef and an open pit, and when it wasn't fry grease and blood it was booze and acid and smack, i'd call it a nightmare but it wasn't, it was just living and how well i was doing that at the time is debatable...

If that debate had actually been held there would have been a predominant amount of witnesses arguing that i was an asshole in the business of alienating everyone around him and they probably were not far off but when one is a miserable motherfucker making friends and influencing people is not high on the things to do list, on the other side of the room i'd have found myself and a few others but there would have been plenty of empty seats, of course we cannot change history only document it so there will be no apologies, only the cold, hard, edge of the knife blade known as memory...

There was a dishwater blonde with long curls, a sultry voice and a these dark pools of eyes that were soft and sexy, i had spent the previous year (flunking out of grad school) asking her when she was going to take me to bed? she was good-natured and worse a sorority girl, i'd give her the business about the latter bit and assure her that i wanted nothing to do with her other than the fucking, i would attend no "Greek" mixers or formals and would not be her boyfriend but i promised her all the pleasure she could handle, her laugh would bring those curls cascading around her face, you're so full of shit she'd say, you wouldn't last ten seconds, her attitude told you to fuck off but those eyes would suck you right in, her pouty lips curling into a sly smile and then that laugh again...

That 95th summer i was a broke motherfucker, but broke motherfucker's need to get wasted and blow off steam and so i would find the ways and means to stay well and truly fucked, be it the kindness of friends or the graft and hustle, there was a bar on 8th and Philadelphia that had $1 import beers twice a week from 9-11pm, on the occasional off night i would stake out a stool at the bar, usually accompanied by a friend or co-worker who had heard about my game, there i would sit nursing a beer until the special kicked off, by 9:20 you couldn't move in the place or get to the bar, i casually knew the bartenders and being 6'4 helped but i would procure beers as long as one was bought for me, i spent the next two hours doing this and getting roaring drunk with a half dozen pints of beer still in front of me, after a few nights of this game the bartenders starting giving me chips, they knew i couldn't drink all the beers i got and none of us wanted them wasted so a drink chip it was, sometimes i'd accept cash when i had a few lined up but in the end the chips went further, they let me drink free at my leisure...

They often played this song in this particular bar, at night you couldn't hear it but during the day when it was quiet and mellow there were those few minutes of reverie i'd mentioned, Lizzie of the Curls and i would go drinking there in the afternoon, i'm sure i annoyed her with my usual offer of mind-blowing sex but then we'd settle into our normal conversation, always quite good and entertaining, when i was broke she'd stand me beer after beer, when i got my scam going she'd laugh at the number chips i'd have, i'd return the favor and tell her that chivalry lives, usually followed by how chivalrous i'd be performing cunnilingus on her, i was a right fucking twit and yet she put up with me, it was the company of a beautiful and intelligent woman, she came across as having it well together but she didn't, there was a sadness behind the eyes, a loneliness in the pauses between words, one particularly drunken afternoon as we exited into the blinding sun so i could make it to work on time she stopped me on the corner and kissed me, she said she was waiting for the answers, it looked like she had tears in her eyes, i was too drunk to know if i was supposed to have them and then she turned and walked toward her place...

That's how it went for her and i that summer, i was living with a girl, Lizzie knew that, we'd meet and drink and talk and except for that one kiss there was never anything sexual, except of course for the tension... i was working the day shift at the fry joint when she walked up one afternoon, she asked if i was working a double that day and i said no, i had already worked three that week and had a night off, she told me i should meet her at the bar, i asked what time and she said early, around 7 or 8 before it got crowded, i said i'd stop up for a quick drink or two... and therein lies the best laid plans of the wasted motherfucker... my shift ended and i went to the bar around the corner to play some Foosball with my co-worker friends, a few games turned into a dozen turned into a dozen beers and shots of Irish Mist, then a ride home on the bicycle and a few joints, a shower, a couple slices of pizza, more beers, more joints and the night was gone, i passed out in my room to the sounds of muted voices and distant waves...

I wouldn't see Lizzie again for a few days after that but when i did she gave me a hard look, slightly confused i asked her what was up? she said where were you the other night, i told her how i had gotten sidetracked after work at the bar and then went home to a semi-party and shrugged and told her i didn't think it was any big deal, she gave a wry smile and said well you missed out mister, i did i said baffled, yeah she said, it was your lucky night, her dark eyes were burning into me, wait what? i stammered, a girl can get lonely AND horny she said, you mean you were gonna? wait, you're fucking shitting me i said, she shook her head, you fucked up, after the second beer i had plans to take you to my place and fuck YOUR brains out, my jaw was bouncing off the floor, i began to do what any lovelorn alley cat would do and started begging and pleading for the opportunity to correct the situation, she stopped me cold, it was taken care of she said, who i said incredulously, my vibrator she spat back, it's my best friend until i get back to school... and off she walked...

I didn't see much of Lizzie after that, she'd leave the beach early and head home and then back to her final year of school, i'd move a few blocks away towards the bay side and get into a interesting month or so of hard drugs and acid and high infidelity, but every time i hear that song i think of those curls and how one night she walked back to her place alone, counting stars, while somewhere a scant few blocks away i was missing the train to Mars...