Friends Be Told

I had to recover from the beverages.

I finally got out of bed a day later. My stomach stopped churning, my muscles began to obey. My faint dizziness subsided. Could it have been all of the organic stuff was just too healthy for me? A body that subsists on nothing but junk really can't make the transition so readily. Either that, or I'm too through with drinking.

I'm giving it a test today. I'm to meet up with KC and Betty for drinks and dinner today. With this being said, if it was from drinking that my malaise was caused, I'll soon have a repeat performance.

I got up, it was before light out. The kid was playing his guitar amazingly early, and the old man was singing out of his window. He constantly sounds drunk with slurred speech. This is one man that never sobers up. Never. And for some reason, he is enamored with his voice outside of his window. He couldn't carry a tune if it had a handle, and he mangles songs to such an extent that if you didn't recognize some of the words, you would have no clue of what he was straining out to sing.

But he was up too this morning. I cleaned my room, tried to get online. Did all the little things that I had to do, and then packed and straightened everything up for the SHOUT OUT later today. I hitched my gear on my back and headed to the Way, going downtown to Smith's Bar and Restaurant, and got there long before our arranged meeting time. I sided up to the bar, and ordered a boilermaker. It was a long time since I had one, and wanted to break my cherry in right.

Soon, KC and Betty arrive and the drinks went around the second time. I still felt very little of a 'hit' so I kept on. OBSIDIAN arrives shortly after that, and the four of us quickly move on to Ruby Tuesday for lunch/dinner. God, I'll be honest. I didn't eat in a day and a half. I spent all of yesterday in bed asleep, recuperating. This morning, just two cups of coffee and I was out the door. But now, sitting before a plate of food, and a flight of red wine, I suddenly felt quite hungry. I scarfed everything before me like a Skeksis on the run. I looked at KC's plate when he was done, and he was kind enough to hand over his leftovers. I scarfed that, and then looked at my brother's ribs. He let me cut off a piece of that, while Betty handed me a piece of her chicken. GOD. I was an inhaling ravenous beast. No wonder I'm so big!

From Ruby Tuesday we headed to the park and hung around while everyone smoked cigars or cigarettes. I abstained. I had long ago kicked the habit. It was nice out, the weather had turned in the favor of warm instead of the blistering cold that we had over the past few days. Time slipped by as we hung out together, and then it was time to hit the Way and head for the SHOUT OUT. We bade everyone farewell, passed around our hugs and best wishes and then were off. We flew to OTTO's only to find Cyndi Lauper on time today. The doors were open and our guests were already in the back waiting for us.

OBSIDIAN was feeling good. The hooch in his system probably charging him up. He wanted to do the intro dance, and damn if I felt like dying. Not that I was ill or tired, it was just the thought of jumping around to 'Mama Said Knock You Out,' was just too much for me to bear. I begged off and got right into the SHOUT OUT. My brother took the first half, I the second. It went pretty smooth, and before we knew it, we were standing outside of the front of Otto's at the close of the SHOUT OUT, bullshitting with Oz, James, Steph with chicken on our minds. I don't know how it has come to pass but eating chicken after the SHOUT OUT has become a luxury, and one of our guilty pleasures.

That's where we ended up, slumped over a narrow counter, with chicken between our teeth and conversation in the air. We stay for quite a while in Kennedy's Fried chicken and afterward I head for the Way and home.

It was a damn good SHOUT OUT.

Next I have the interview for the online magazine.

I'm going to change up articles soon. Before the editors do it for me.

Hobobob