"Make it one for my baby, and one more for the road." (1675 hits)
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Rating: 1.96 on 33 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Bigmike (View user info) at 2005-03-29 23:24:45 EST
Mickey held his head low, just inches above the bar. If he opened his eyes he would see the spilled liquid of his last shot of tequila spreading out across the wood before him. As it was, he could smell the fumes wafting up into his nostrils, a remedy for the fire burning inside him.
He didn't have anywhere else to go, and as if on cue, this thought hit him as the bartender put a strong hand on his shoulder and roughly shook him.
"C'mon buddy, it's time for you to go."
The bartender did not look happy at all.
"It's quarter to three, there's no one in the place
Except you and me
So set 'em' up Joe, I got a little story
I think you should know,"
Mickey opened his eyes, shifted his weight on the barstool, and fell flat on his butt to the filthy barroom floor. He looked up and saw the bartender peering at him over the edge of the bar. Mickey saw the look of disgusted contempt on the bartenders face and mistook it for pity.
"It'sh ok perfesser," Mickey slurred. "I'm gooong, I'm gooong. Hold yer horshes." The bartender allowed Mickey three attempt at getting up off the floor before he walked over, lifted him up by his belt at the back of his pants, and slowly carried him out through the front door of the bar, gently laying him down at the bottom of the stoop. Shaking his head, the bartender walked back into the bar, locking the door behind him.
"We're drinking my friend, to the end
Of a brief episode
Make it one for my baby
And one more for the road,"
Mickey stayed put for a few moments, lying flat on his back in the middle of the sidewalk. The world was spinning ferociously fast and he was afraid that if it didn't stop he was going to be sick. He kept his eyes closed for a full twenty minutes before the spinning stopped and, after a couple of dry heaves, managed to get to his feet and start hobbling down the road. If there were anybody out on the street at this hour, they would have seen a pathetic old man staggering down the street, pawing at something inside his pants pocket. After walking for a minute or two, Mickey leaned up against a car parked on the street. He was still pawing at his pocket and finally managed to extract a set of car keys. He lifted them up in front of his face to make sure what they were. He saw the blue key fob with "Andy's Collision Repair" written on it and decided that they were the right keys. Using the car as his guide, he walked around the front, catching his pantleg on a rusted part of the front passenger wheel well. He cursed loudly as he continued around the car, finally reaching the drivers side door.
"I know the routine, put another nickel
In the machine
I feel kind of bad, can't you make the music
Easy and sad,"
He went to put the key into the lock to unlock the door and he lost his grip. The keys fell to the pavement with a ringing sound that only keys can make. "Shit," muttered Mickey and as he bent over to pick the keys up, he banged his head squarely on the driver side door causing him to fall to the ground directly next to the fallen keys. After sitting there for a few seconds he found the keys, managed to lift himself up to his knees, guided the keys into the lock and turned the key to unlock the door. He heard the click and then fell to his butt. "Thank friggin god," was all that he could mutter to himself.
He lifted himself up off the pavement, grabbed the door handle and pulled. The door swung open and he quickly sat himself down in the drivers seat, closing the door and taking a deep breath.
"I could tell you a lot, but it's not
In a gentleman's code
Make it one for my baby
And one more for the road,"
It took him three tries to find the ignition with his keys. He finally jammed the key into it and turned it forcefully forward. The cars engine rumbled and then whirred, not quite catching. He let up on the key, pumped the gas a couple of times and then turned it again. This time it whirred three times and then caught, loudly coming to life, ruined exhaust spewing loudness and fumes into the night air. He leaned back and took a deep breath, then another, and yet another. He listened to the engine rumble and thought of how much he and this beast of a car had been through.
His best memories were of all the bar skanks that he had banged in the backseat. He could still see them there, legs up in the air as he went at them, a pathetic old drunks trying to harden up something that seemed permanently soft. Then there was that time that he and his friends, what were left of them anyway, had gone to that ball game over in Buffalo. This damn car made it there and back safely even though all four of them were drunk as skunks and driving down the thruway doing ninety miles per hour at three in the morning. There was also the time they had driven to Florida for spring break even though they were all too old and when they got there nobody paid any attention to them so all they did was get stinking drunk for four days and then drive back. He didn't remember much of that trip, but he did remember that his car, this car, got them there and back safely.
And then there was today. Today his car had helped him haul all of his stuff out of his house because his wife wasn't having any more of his drinking. It wasn't the first time that she had kicked him out, but she assured him that it would be her last.
"You'd never know it, but buddy I'm a kind of poet
And I've got a lot of things I'd like to say
And if I'm gloomy, please listen to me
Till it's talked away,"
Mickey concentrated hard on the gearshift lever. He gently pressed down on the brake and slipped the car into drive. "You know where to go, dontcha honey?" Mickey said as he pressed his foot down onto the gas pedal. The car lurched forward awkwardly and Mickey guided it out onto the road, crossing the center line and then quickly jerking the wheel back so that the car was in the proper lane.
Mickey drove the car down the main street and kept on gong right out of town on Route Five. He held her steady past the town limits and proceeded out into the country. The road would weave a little bit here and there, but it seemed that Mickey, as drunk as he was, could still keep her steady and not manage to put her into a ditch or run her headfirst into a tree.
Well that's how it goes, and Joe I know your gettin'
Anxious to close
Thanks for the cheer,"
As Mickey got further out onto route five, he came to a long stretch of road that was tree-lined on both sides. It was a narrow stretch of route five that ran straight through the middle of the Montezuma Wildlife Refuge. He drove it halfway and then pulled over to the side. He turned the ignition key off and the car stopped running. He sat there for a moment and listened to the engine ping as it started to cool down. When he opened the door, he rolled himself out of the frontseat and landed hard on the pavement. As he did, a little vomit came up through his throat and shot out of his mouth and nose. After a few heaves he composed himself and managed to stand up. "Man, I feel better now." he thought as he walked around to the front of the car. He searched around inside of the front grill until he felt the hood latch and pulled on it. The hood of the car came popping up. He felt under the gap between the hood and the front of the car, released the hood and swung it all the way up until it caught and stayed. He then stood there looking around.
It was extremely quiet where he was at this very moment. He could hear nothing except the sound of crickets chirping their mating love calls. He looked east and saw darkness and trees lining the narrow roadway. He listened for the sound of any animals in the woods, but heard nothing moving around. He peered around the hood of the car and looked west where he saw a pair of headlights just coming around the corner about a mile down the road. A corner that he had driven not even fifteen minutes ago. He watched the headlights approach silently in the night. He watched them bear down on his car, growing larger as they came closer. He came to realize when the lights were about a half mile away, that they belonged to a big truck, maybe even a tractor trailer. At the quarter mile point he was sure that it was a tractor trailer, maybe even a double. At the one hundred foot point, he jumped out from behind the hood of his car and stared directly at those headlights as they bore down on him at breakneck speed. He was standing directly in the middle of the lane.
He swore to himself that he could see his wife's face in the grill of that truck as it sped towards him. He could see that she was laughing. He closed his eyes just before impact.
"I hope you didn't mind
My bending your ear
But this torch that I found, It's gotta be drowned
Or it's gonna explode
Make it one for my baby
And one more for the road."
User Reviews
Submitted by PeopleAreStrange (user info) at 2006-06-19 17:00:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Would have loved the irony if the truck driver had been drinking! It makes me wonder how it affected the person who ran him over. Great story Mike, and I too like the way you intersperse music with the story.
Have you seen the film Broken Flowers? The only time they play music in the film is when Bill Murray is driving his car, which makes it appropriate (as though it is playing on his car radio). Details like that make stories and films all the better imo.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-10-19 04:37:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
There are a solid four pages of +2 streaks with 30 or more reviews. That is stupid. I am weeding it all out by giving every one of them a +1; that way posts that have 1.99 with 200+ reviews gets best ever.
Submitted by UberGirl (user info) at 2005-04-24 03:31:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
How could the bartender have let him leave?
still very good.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2005-04-05 09:09:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Dannie (user info) at 2005-03-30 13:51:54 (#)
Ranking: 2
How is it that you never dissappoint?
Thank you for saying so.
Submitted by enraged_baboon (user info) at 2005-04-04 06:05:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
dont really care for the subject matter but good idea to intersperse stanzas with prose. good writing too.
Submitted by Tiltedhalo (user info) at 2005-03-31 11:22:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow. You're a pretty complex man! This was one of my favs. Thanks.
Submitted by Bickerstaff (user info) at 2005-03-30 18:36:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by EbolaMay (user info) at 2005-03-30 18:31:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You got skilzzz.
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2005-03-30 18:29:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow -just - wow
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-03-30 18:17:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
well thats something i've never done while blacked out.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-03-30 16:45:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
dang...
Submitted by Dannie (user info) at 2005-03-30 13:51:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
How is it that you never dissappoint?
Submitted by Chinaski (user info) at 2005-03-30 12:30:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2005-03-30 09:36:02 (#)
Ranking: 2
Yikes. I hate sadness.
+2 for the Montezuma Wildlife Preserve, between Rochester and Syracuse.
_____
Listen to this big, blubbering vagina. Hey Lawrence of A Labia- man up and realize you're infinitely sad inside.
Submitted by jumpinjellyfish (user info) at 2005-03-30 11:22:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent writing.
Submitted by DeathJester (user info) at 2005-03-30 10:10:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Fantastic.
Submitted by Josephine (user info) at 2005-03-30 10:06:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very well done.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2005-03-30 09:36:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yikes. I hate sadness.
+2 for the Montezuma Wildlife Preserve, between Rochester and Syracuse.
Submitted by MickGinny (user info) at 2005-03-30 09:09:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"a pathetic old man staggering down the street, pawing at something inside his pants pocket."
that usually indicates that you will be witnessing a bum piss in the street.
Alceys are pathetic like that. Sad.
Submitted by TheSpook (user info) at 2005-03-30 08:48:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Moral of the story: get extremely drunk before killing yourself.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2005-03-30 08:27:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Geez...
Submitted by whiskey_jack (user info) at 2005-03-30 05:23:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
WEll thanks a lot bucko. I'm currntly drunk, and now am scared to shit. I'm gonna go crawl unto my bed now and weep until the sun rises. Damn dirty semis.
Submitted by snarf (user info) at 2005-03-30 04:07:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2005-03-29 23:34:04 (#)
Ranking: 0
Based loosely on true events.
God, makes it that bit more moving
Submitted by DanielH (user info) at 2005-03-30 01:38:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by DanielH (user info) at 2005-03-29 23:42:58 (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll never drink again.
If you haven't, read The Rosy Crucifiction trilogy by Henry Miller: "Sexus", "Nexus" and "Plexus". Also the Tropic series. I see a little of him in you.
- - -
Thought of better H Miller book for you to read if you haven't read the above. "The Air-Conditioned Nightmare." (!!!) From all I've read of you, well, he was a Brooklyn boy, who just happened to have a gift. This explores his transition from messanger at a big corp. to artist. Read this.
Submitted by Hatch (user info) at 2005-03-30 01:29:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2005-03-30 00:44:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
"One for my baby"
Lyrics by Johnny Mercer
Stirring renditions by Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra.
Submitted by Scatherm (user info) at 2005-03-30 00:37:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Great, like usual.
Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2005-03-29 23:54:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well, not the concept... but the writing is wonderful.
Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2005-03-29 23:54:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wonderful.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2005-03-29 23:46:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
You're always so complimentary Daniel.
I'm glad you enjoy my writing so much.
Submitted by DanielH (user info) at 2005-03-29 23:42:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll never drink again.
If you haven't, read The Rosy Crucifiction trilogy by Henry Miller: "Sexus", "Nexus" and "Plexus". Also the Tropic series. I see a little of him in you.
Submitted by Kristen (user info) at 2005-03-29 23:41:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Damn.
Submitted by kcthelush (user info) at 2005-03-29 23:40:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2005-03-29 23:34:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Based loosely on true events.