So This is What I Thought Two Weeks Ago....

The disheveled heap has made its way to the stoop with the morning coffee.  I meant to come down here and work a "perm" (as Kerouac used to say) but left the hard copy upstairs.  That's how convenient life has become.  You can't possibly expect my mojo to come back after realizing that the perm I wanted to work on is 15 seconds away from me inside of my purse right now.  I'd have to get up...

Out of habit, I walked into here.  It's 52 degrees outside and I will admit, my butt is a bit cold on the stones.  Not the Rolling Stones. They're still alive.  Amazingly.

And this very moment, I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye.  I'm so used to seeing  animals roaming around near me because of the two cats.  Size is everything too.  If I saw something that reminded me of a water buffalo in my peripheral vision, my heart and mind would shift and the scream of all screams would be cast into the next Halloween movie.  I saw a little squirrel peeking at me, on the same level as me.  He didn't seem to realize I was here (in my light purple sweater....THAT blends in.  A field of gladiolas I am, on the stoop.)  I started both of us by saying Hi to him.  Then his heart and mind shifted and he took off.  

I did mention it was 52 degrees out, right?  I do not want the electricity bill of the dude downstairs.  His A/C is on.  I know he's a bartender and maybe has a few drinks but it's 52 degrees out...you can't be THAT hot at 10am.  Unless you're Jayson Werth.  

I really need to put on the gloves and fight a little harder.  The Financial F**k Its win more than they should.  I really don't spend much on extras but of course decided to treat myself to a six pack of Leffe and a nice tall Erdinger stands like the Eiffel in my fridge.  I took Humanling to get what will be the last ice cream of the year from our local creamery.  They close on October 13th.  That part wasn't so bad.  That felt like a local duty.  Like buying pumpkins from the local farms.  (Squirrel just came back to see if Lavender Fields Forever was still here.)  Maybe I will run upstairs and get the leftover bread for my brave buddy.  Sure, I can run upstairs for crusts of bread but not to finish my perm. 

I was ready to call it a day on the spending and then opened my email.  Flip sent an email saying that he had on a bourbon buzz, that it was a grey day and the only thing missing was me.    I am suck a weak f**kling sometimes that I inquired back if that was an invitation.  It was only 3:22pm when he sent it.  Pretty early in the day for a good bourbon buzz, but hey, I like the 1920s too.  Then I obsessed, waiting for an answer.  An hour went by...then more time.  Finally I decided that I'd also like bourbon.  So I headed out to buy the smallest bottle to save for night time.  As I left the magic Bourbon tree, I wondered to myself, what if I swung by?  What if I stopped over to see how he is?  No.....don't do that.  Wait.  I'm driving there.  Well I'm just driving to see the scenery...it's so pretty this time of year...I miss this neighborhood sometimes. I mortified MYSELF even when I pulled into the driveway.  

He and the dog answered the door.  He was so drunk and stoned.  What was missing was the beer belly because I don't think that he has one, although he's put on a tiny bit of weight - but to me it looks delicious.  And as busty and voracious female cake lovers may end up with telltale harvests sparkling on their bosoms like awards, Flip had a huge pile of ashes in the center of his chest, where it would land if you smoked a joint while sitting down in a lazy fashion.  I brushed them off before I hugged him.  He was in disbelief that there were ashes.  I'm not sure how, since the whole house smelled like someone trying to blaze down a raid.  He talked to his dog for a good part of the hug.  He kept wavering on his feet and I hoped he didn't need me for support since I can barely pick up my 72 pound Humanling to put her in a bed if she has a seizure on the floor.  We stood there for a bit and I wondered why I was actually there.  He mentioned that his car wouldn't let him drive anywhere and that was before he drank.  (He has a tattletale breathalyzer on his car that won't start it up if it detects alchohol).  I mentioned that he drank the night before and I've smelled him a day after drinking.  It doesn't just go away.  He found that hard to believe but then again, this is Flip.  And now this is Flip on booze percentages and pot.  That adds up to his train of thought being the one that makes the planets orbit.

He asked if I wanted to have a drink.  I wasn't sure.  I said ok.  He poured a huge drink for me.  I admit that I really didn't want to use any of his glasses.  The mice turds have taken over and from what I could see, this one spot was clean enough, but there were still mouse oopsies in the bottom of the dish drainer.  I went with it.  We sat on the loveseat with space between us.  It was dark and there was one candle lit.....for his reason of not having a working lighter so he needed a constant source of flame for his burning brain sessions.  

*I wrote all of this above about two weeks ago.  What resulted after this was Flip's turning the conversation into digging out all that had been said over and over again.  I politely said that I should go (and left some damn good bourbon that I know that I couldn't afford behind).  I thanked him for the drink offer and quietly left, at this point not even sure why I had bothered.  What good can come of it?