under the overpass.

When it’s 1 in the morning and you walk up to the gas station counter with a can of spaghettios, a single serving packet of Advil PM and a bottle of Barefoot brand Cabernet Sauvignon for $4.99, you’re not fooling anybody. You’re a sad sack, dude.

So yeah, that was me 15 minutes ago. I moved; I don’t know if I mentioned that. I was living in the Rattlesnake with a couple of perfectly pleasant, smug outdoorsy guys, so needless to say, I had to get out of there. Now I live in a swelteringly hot attic apartment at the bottom of the hill, on the north side. The great thing is that I can walk everywhere, but still, there are changes. I forgot to move my cups with me, for example. Drinking straight out of the bottle. A few sips into this stuff my belly feels like it’s leaking acid, although surely that’s not the attic’s fault.

I didn’t realize what a good thing I had with the employees at my old 24-hour gas station. I set down my shit, they rang it up, and that was that. ┬áThe people at this new gas station just before the I90 on ramp, what can I say. They’re fucking nosey.

I set down the wine and the spaghettios and the advil PM. “Is that good wine?” she asks me.

Is that a serious question? The truth is I don’t know, as I have not bought this brand before, but I bet I can guess. I want to say “Shut the fuck up and leave me alone in this, my dark hour,” but instead I say, “I don’t know but I’m going to go ahead and take a wild guess that it’s not a good wine.” I buy Cabernet Sauvignon because the words are beautiful, even if the taste is not. Bitch, I’m a writer.

She says, “It’s just that people buy it all the time and I haven’t tried it yet.”

For 5 dollars, you can get enough alcohol to get both you and your dog drunk. At the bar that same amount buys you 1.2 drinks. So I’d say it comes down to a question of value more than quality.

I just realized I don’t have a can opener.

In order to get to the terrible gas station selling unpleasant things, you have to go through a long, spooky corridor that looks and sounds like Hell. I took this video the other night. There was a girl on the other side of the street in a similarly bleak tunnel singing to herself, a girl in worse shape than me if you can believe it. You can hear my shoes flop.

I am aware of the bleak nature of this post. I’m fine. I’m going to be just fine. What, you never get lonely?



5 thoughts on “under the overpass.

  1. People manning cash registers in this town are exceedingly nosy. Once I was buying Excedrin at Griz Grocery and the guy picked it up slowly and inspected it.

    “You get headaches?” he asked.

    I was all, “Um, yup.”

    “Like, migraines or…?”

    “I just have a headache,” I said, and resisted the urge to bludgeon him.

  2. I spent 10 minutes checking out at that gas station once…the guy was insisting on guessing why my friend and I were buying an empty 48 oz. fountain soda cup. (We were preparing to get drunk on the ever-so-slightly-better grocery store boxed wine, but needed to smuggle it into the outdoor movie!) Still, we were in for a good night, so I let the guessing game happen….

  3. Wow, that tunnel vid is some Blair Witch shiat right Thar! Did you know in the last reel, it was revealed the girl signging in the other tunnel was you!

    Also, you got major Bohemian cred. I see an epic meditation on Existential dread in your future!

  4. I love moving and I love living alone. You’d have to be drunk to walk that tunnel alone at night! yr pal in pdx!

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