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. The 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?