For the Writer's Cramp |
Never Doing That Again “I’d like a Black Tooth Grin please,” I smile as I said the order to the bartender. This was Dimebag’s favorite drink and now I could try it like I always wanted to do—even before I turned 21 a year before. “What’s that?” a puzzling look appears on the bartender’s pale face. “Oh, Crown Royale, Seagram’s 7 and a splash of coke.” “Alright,” she quickly mixes it and slides it across the bar, “order’s up!” “Thank you!” I grab my drink. Darkness quickly engulfs me, but then is replaced with the dim light that is scattered all over the game room. I rejoin my friends, who are playing billiards. The feeling of the combination of Crown Royale, Seagram’s 7 and coke taste good. Then again I’m twenty-two and never had the drinks separately (except the coke). The feeling is so smooth. My taste buds begin to tingle and my body relaxes. I nurse my Black Tooth Grin for an hour and want to finish it before the clock strikes twelve and I have to welcome in yet another new year. It’s eleven; “bottom’s up,” I think and quickly take the shot. My stomach hates me. I feel terrible and I think I’m drunk. I stumble, I think, to the bar. Okay, I wasn’t that drunk, but I feel awful and light headed. “Ice cream, please” I slur to the bartender—I’m handed a vanilla ice cream and polish it off in seconds. My stomach hates me. My lactose intolerant stomach hates me. “I’ll be right back,” I say to my friend. I run, like running for the hills—I run past the billiards table and past the people that occupy that room now looking at me and seem like they are laughing at me. I open the door quickly to get away from their contorted faces. The cold bathroom does not please me, but fortunately this displeasure doesn’t last. I become friends with the toilet bowl that sends a warmth through me. “Are you okay?” kindly women freshening up ask. “Yes,” I shiver. My stomach no longer hates me. “NEVER DOING THAT AGAIN,” I think as I slowly sip the ginger ale at the bar waiting to ring in the New Year. Word Count: 375 |