Your Happy New Year

In Pasadena, California, the New Year starts with the Lady Queen of Roses and her Rose Princesses presiding over the Rose Bowl Parade and Rose Bowl Game®. This tradition is televised worldwide every year.

Southern tradition on New Years regards eating black eyed peas. This tradition dates back to General Sherman’s infamous “March to the Sea” during the American Civil War. Sherman’s forces killed livestock and burned crops that would sustain Confederate soldiers, though they believed the peas, thought of as “feed stock” for horses and other animals could be left untouched.


Those who survived the death and destruction of Union forces sustained themselves on the peas, “luckily” escaping hunger and death. From then on, they ate the peas for good luck in the coming years.




Drinking traditions for New Years Eve and New Years Day include but are not limited to: Having a round of beers, Having a round of shots, Mixing shots and drinks, Mixing shots and drinks with New Years Resolutions. Toasting with Champagne or Sparkling Wine on New Years Day.


Also toasting with wine (for fertility) on New Years Day. Also a New Years tradition is drinking all New Years Eve and into unconsciousness on New Years Day.

Sexual New Years Eve and New Years Day Traditions include but are not limited to: Sex Positions for role reversal, Sex with a married woman (not her husband), sex with non-married women (taboo), sex between older women and younger men.



(Reference Russian Customs, Taboos of the Church of England and the Kama Sutra). There are no traditions (or taboos) for sex between women. (Practice is common or considered impossible in some cultures)

The “kiss at midnight,” has no known start point, but was most likely started by one person and passed onto another. Similarly, many traditions that you may celebrate at New Year’s are passed on from person to person.

But even though it is only a viral creation method, like “Auld Lang Syne” you’ll never know when your created tradition might make it into the anals or annals of history.


So, however you choose to observe tradition, eat, drink or create tradition from the heart of happiness and the hope of horniness….Happy New Year.


RJ

Ballerina in a Bottle

Ok, here she is! Kind of haunting, like music from a Stephen King movie.



It is official. You Tube has everything!

Off the Market

Sorry fellas, the available pool of straight women at the Tavern has been diminished by two.

Congrats to Joe and Gin and to Miss Lily and PJ on their recent engagements! Glad to see you're soon to be joining the ranks of the married people. Why should you get to stay happy?



Some things to ponder as you head toward the aisle:

Marriage is not a word. It is a sentence--a life sentence.

Marriage is very much like a violin; after the sweet music is over, the strings are attached.

Marriage is love. Love is blind. Therefore, marriage is an institution for the blind.

Marriage is an institution in which a man loses his Bachelor's Degree and the woman gets her Masters.

Marriage is a thing which puts a ring on a woman's finger and two under the man's eyes.

Marriage certificate is just another word for a work permit.

Marriage is not just a having a wife, but also worries inherited forever.

Marriage requires a man to prepare 4 types of "rings":
* The Engagement Ring
* The Wedding Ring
* The Suffe-Ring
* The Endu-Ring

Sorry, kinda corny, but best I could find in a pinch.

French Onion Soup as an Aphrodisiac

In this post there will be no names, no dates and no times.

During a visit to 1762 I was treated to an earful by a lady patron on the nuances of a hot crock of French Onion soup.

While the following transcript of this dialog may not be 100% accurate (I'm afraid most posts are skewed by a memory short circuited by intoxicants), I am certain of the overall picture to be painted.

SHE (to someone else): He's got a big dick, so its all good.
ME (overhearing): Who?
SHE: This guy. He's taking me out to dinner. And then I'm gonna fuck him.
ME: Nice. Where are you going to dinner?
SHE: (names local steakhouse) and they have the best French Onion Soup. Mmm. All he has to do is buy me that soup and I'll fuck him. Oh yeah, that's right. I'm gonna fuck him.
ME: Wow. Must be some really good soup.
SHE: Oh, you have no idea. (obvious excitement in her countenance at this point)
ME: I like that soup, but you are really getting all worked up over it. What is it about French Onion soup that gets you going? Is it the melted Swiss?
SHE: (almost frantic) THAT'S NOT SWISS! THAT'S NOT SWISS! It's GROO-YEAR! GROO-YEAR!
ME: Sorry. You are very into this soup.
SHE: (again) Oh, you have no idea. You have no idea. (Her hands are a little shaky and I would swear that her body quivered a bit)

With this she gets up and starts out the front door. I wasn't finished with this conversation.

ME (yelling after her): What is it? What is in the French Onion soup that makes you horny. Is it the piece of bread all juicy at the bottom.

SHE (peeking her head in the door for just a second): It's not bread you idiot. It's a baguette.




So, the true essence of the aphrodisiac that is French Onion Soup remains shrouded in mystery. But you can bet that on my next date I know what soup I'll order for her ;P

Reflections

I want to thank all of you who follow this blog. When S.D. asked me to contribute I thought I would tell drinking tales and of the good fun we often have in the Ancient Dive. I was encouraged to do a little more than just tell stories and I did. I wanted this to be relevant and real as it was fictional and connived. (Sometimes much fact got confused for fiction – sometimes clarity can be found in the bottom of a bottle)

I have been accused of being mean to being too sensitive in the treatment of all kinds of subjects this year. I would take the criticism with a grain or two of salt if my blood pressure wasn’t so bad. So I do take what little input I have received with a little honey and a shot, it helps physical pain as much as emotional upheavals. We as a ‘crowd’ have shared so much together. Some of you may ask “like what?” Let me take this time to remind you.

In August last when we started we addressed: Dogfights (Vick), bar fights, disrespect; in September we had Kareoke and that Woodstock/Gospel kind of feeling, distractions from living, men in kilts and men in trouble. Reminiscing of a man who lived at least three different lives (i.e., me) and revolving bartenders, patriotism, honors and the respect due Veterans, fools easily seduced by beautiful women who dance for passion alone (i.e., me, well maybe not just me).

S.D. dealt with the lies and hypocrisy of high priced athletes without conscience and low life leaders without honor. We addressed lifestyle issues and personal preferences be they religious, sexual or bound by tradition. In October, we dealt with short stories based on tough issues like Solara with assault, humiliation and degradation, ‘lesbian nights’, and long short stories about separation and debauchery, what you don’t hear about military deployment. Scaryoke Night was a wonderful escape into alter ego’s, the pregnant nun blew my mind.



November and December drove home for all of us that which we have all shared the most. Not shots from a ‘Yaegermeister’ bottle, but a bitter cup. We all lost people, we lost people who worked at and drank at the Ancient Dive. We all lost loved ones. Brothers, Sisters, Fathers, Friends, we all shared each others loss on some level. Somehow it hurt worse as Thanksgiving and Christmas came upon us. ‘Biker Bob’ was the last to loose someone, he lost a brother.



In all this bitterness we shared it was a blessing to celebrate two birthdays and a life as December comes to a close and another year starts another cadence of days we seek to survive. Gin and Miss Lilly did have quite a birthday.


I did have a good time until I slipped after bumping into someone with the pool cue (don’t ever get hurt), waves of pain rippled through my body, mind and soul. It was a nice party. I’m so glad for a new life and Miss Lilly’s happiness.

I pray the new year brings, peace, prosperity, love and happiness to all of you. Be safe so we can see each other again. (O.K. Be safe until we see each other again! Some of you may not want to see me)

Take Care,
RJ

Merry Christmas

	Merry Christmas. I wish all of you and your families, boundless joy and love, for each other and yourselves.

Gin and Miss Lily's Kickass Birthday

In a word, WOW!

What great way to kick off the holiday season. First off, gratitude goes out to Shelley, for taking Gin's shift, for keeping us shit-faced, and for doing it all with a smile. Well, at least until 5 AM when she launched our collective ass from the premises.

To Miss Lily: You look great! The baby is cute as heck. And I didn't think it was possible, but you made up for 9 months of sobriety in one rocking night. It had been so long, we had forgotten how you were when you drank. And you were awesome.

To Gin: You rock. You have brought fun and lightheartedness to Friday's at 1762. It was a treat for all of us to celebrate your 29th birthday with you. You have a good friend, who watched us all become drunken fools while she suffered with sobriety and a sore shoulder, all in the name of getting you and your man home safely. Mad props to you Mortgage Lady!

There were a lot of faces at 1762 last night. Some old, some new, some I haven't seen in awhile. The best part is that all of them were smiling. Even if things aren't perfect or going according to plan in "real life", which is what I like to call life outside of 1762, when we come together for an occasion like this, all of that kinda goes away for a little while. We can say that it is the intoxicants, but I say it is more than that. The crowd here, when we mesh, we really mesh. As someone mentioned last night, we are a diverse group. I say it is our diversity that makes our bar better than any other that I have frequented. How can you ever be bored at 1762? Diversity keeps our bar fresh.

So many flashes of images from last nights festivities:

Most Disturbing:The Owner cupping his fuckcake. Peppermint and I gave witness to this. Certainly not for the squeamish

Best Music: Anything not played by the Metal Head young guy. Nice kid, but I found myself wishing for deafness when he fed the Jukebox. At one point, we were all hating the music, and with our collective mental will, one particularly painful Judas Priest song abruptly ended. He cried foul. The rest of us rejoiced.

Best Plan: As I mentioned earlier, Gin and her crew had a responsible designated driver. Nice work youngsters.

Best Fight: While we have all witnessed larger scale battles from these two, Shelley and The Owner got into a customary name calling, spit flying, drink throwing melee that affected all in the immediate area. Personally, i woke up with swimmer's ear this morning.

Least visible hair highlighting and stubbiest fingers: PP, you take the cake here. Let your hair down, girl! And those gloves. You have got to be kidding. Seriously though, why did you have them in your bag? Ladies feel the need to take the strangest stuff with them. Ah, but I digress, fodder for a future post.

All right, enough out of me. When I started this thing back in August, I was hoping that some of you other loudmouths would chime in and contribute in the form of comments and replies. So far, no one but dave and myself have commented on anything (OK, one other person made one comment), but there is no way I could have seen everything that occurred last night. Comments can be anonymous. Please cut me some slack here. I am writing this with a wicked hangover, double vision and everything. I look forward to reading your take on the events of the night. You know who you are. Start WRITING!!!

Friday Night Fun

Popped in for the long haul last night. As you may have noticed, I have posted significantly fewer posts over the last month or so. My apologies for that, but it is with good reason that I have abstained.

Last night was good fun. Crowd diversity was in full effect. You had regulars, and irregulars. Even some irregular regulars. Kidding of course, all 1762 regulars have irregularities about them. I think that is what pulls us all there.

Gin was pouring and she had a nice steady flow of patrons all night. I was loving the Brooklyn Winter Ale, downing more pints than I cared to keep track of.

Highlights of the night included boys versus girls pool. The boys took three straight. Elvis sat at the far end of the bar for a spell, sipping a Mint Julep, presumably. And some 20 something year old guys brought Superman's daughter in. She was old enough to shoot darts, but not enough for anything else. We also had in attendance the largest single night Quik Draw loser. OUCH! Did he drop a bundle!

I tell you, on nights like this one, a trip to the tavern is all I need. See you over there!

Upcoming EVENTS

Friday, 21DEC07 - Come down and celebrate Miss Lily and Gin's birthday! I believe this is Lily's first appearance at 1762 since giving birth!

Saturday, 22DEC07 - The Holiday partying continues with a Christmas Karaoke BASH! - CANCELLED - we are all too fucked up from last night!

See you all at the festivities!

Pearl Harbor Weekend

Before I go into detail about Saturday Night and Sunday Afternoon, I want to thank everyone who knew I was hospitalized for checking on me. I know for certain that this was one of those episodes in my life that was a wake up call about health care and death. (Like I needed a reminder) I won’t go into detail, I cheated the reaper without crashing on several Schedule 4 drugs administered by Medical Doctors in panic mode.

I didn’t realize I still had the three hospital wristbands on when I visited the dive. The wristbands were red, white, and blue. I concealed the wristbands as I sat down at the bar. There were several non-regulars in attendance, but enough regulars to keep things in check, which was necessary. Apparently this group of assholes in their mid 30’s were in need of manners.

I sat at the bar observing and quickly assessed that things were going to spiral out of control, I was in no condition for conflict. Then a punk ass hard knot cokehead called Shelly a “bitch” over payment for his drink. I knew this shithead was begging for trouble so I watched carefully what he might do next (i.e. stiff the bartender and walk out). Then I watched something that didn’t help my blood pressure at all. Shelly transitioned from bartender to debt collector and etiquette corrector.

“Who are you calling a bitch? Shut the fuck up and give me the money, SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH AND PUT THE CASH DOWN!!" Shelly was now more than halfway over the bar. Hector got up and was walking, the Met Fan made his way next to me. The punk ass shithead caved in quickly and made his way to the door. I could see pushing and shoving take place as I watched the Heisman Trophy go to Tebow.

Shelly was now frightening, a cross between a nazi dominatrix and …to quote Chucky “Sister Mary Mussentouch” I saw her come from behind the bar and break up the crowd. Knowing that I was less than half a heartbeat from another trip to the emergency room, I discreetly exited the dive before the Police showed up. The cops were going to take away these assholes or arrest Shelly for cracking her whip and kicking ass. I decided to show up on Sunday.

As usual I came in Sunday Afternoon to watch the Jets Game. The Jets did what they usually do on Sunday Afternoon and lost another game. Yaega had her usual suspects playing games, smoking and drinking while watching the Jets disappoint those who actually believe they might win. Cary came in and stayed awhile, telling me of coming events at his other venues. At the end of the bar, occasionally rising for a smoke was Shelly. She was still pissed off.

I stayed to watch the Sunday Night Game, Yaega stayed behind as Rhoda took up behind the bar. It was a fun, lively Sunday Night when SD showed up and things got even a little livelier as all headed home as the rain fell. Chucky came and went. Left in the dive were me, SD and the three bartenders, Yaega, Shelly and Rhoda. Yaega needed a massage, SD obliged, Shelly didn’t know if she wanted a massage, SD obliged anyway and got a gentle slap….but you sure heard it.

The conversation turned to female sex devices and what it takes to satisfy a woman. Japanese technology and Duracell batteries were not my field of expertise for conversation, so I listened as long as my eyelids would stay open. Do these women have fetishes no newsgroup has support for? Should have been there. After playing old soul, Clarence Carter and Shelly’s favorite song I decided to stay and shut down the place with Rhoda.

So much for a weekending, I thank God I’m still here.

Love

RJ

The Wedding & The Deer Hunt

“RJ, Ben and Becky want to get married this weekend, have you talked to them lately.” I put the phone on speaker because my hands were busy holding my pipe while I read another ‘we’re gonna screw you letter’ from the VA. “No N.F., I haven’t heard from them in about two weeks,” I then leaned back and thought about what I went through with Ben and Becky on the 4th of July and Labor Day, I started to get heartburn.

I thought about love, life, decency and honor, those timeless values that make for the foundation of mankind, government and most of civilization. Marriage between Ben and Becky is a great idea, they are equally yoked in almost every way. “N.F., they wanted to get married last month, why now?” “Look, we’re headed for Thanksgiving weekend and they considered having their Pastor marry them, but he’s out of town…Ben and Becky want you to do the Wedding for them………RJ you there?”

I really had nothing planned except my usual Sunday excursion to the Ancient Dive (that’s gotten real old). My family has all come together at Mom’s house and Thanksgiving was quite tense, but did get to be real fun after I had everybody consider what life would be like if they didn’t have each other to piss off. I did need to get away. “Alright, I will e-mail the rest of the marriage material to Becky…they’ll have to complete the course they started back in September. By the way are you still in Gardiner or back in your own house N.F.”

“Still in Gardiner at my Brother in Laws old house RJ, by the way we’re going hunting that weekend too.” “Where do Ben and Becky want me to do the Wedding? Did they tell you N.F.? “Yeah, RJ at my place in Gardiner.” “N.F., what are you smokin? You want me to do a Wedding for Ben and Becky while your out in the woods stalking Bambi” “Yeah, Elly did a whole lotta cooking and everything seems locked in, can you be here Friday?” O.K.

After a scenic ride on a picturesque Friday afternoon, (I stopped at Valencia Italian Delicatessen in Lynbrook and Prosperi’s Bakery on Atlantic, I picked up Ravioli and Canoli’s) I arrived in Gardiner. Elly was in the kitchen and the two dogs, yellow and black Labrador retrievers greeted me jumping and slobbering looking for their doggie treats. Elly told me that N.F.’s friend from work Fred and his son Ricky were on their way and would be at the house real soon.

Elly invited me to check out the house while she cooked, so I started wandering. The house is a big split level ranch, 4 bedrooms, spacious living room with fire place, 3 bathrooms, oak paneled den with fireplace, family room, barn and 3 car garage on 6 acres next to a heavily wooded area. There’s a huge bar in the den (fully stocked) along with two large gun safes. I went back to the kitchen, had a sandwich and a beer Elly fixed me while waiting on N.F. and his hunting buddies.

N.F. showed up and introduced me to the keg unit (in a special frig and pump unit for kegs) next to the long maple bar. Then the hunters showed up, Fred and Ricky walked in. Everybody introduced themselves and sat around the kitchen table getting to know one another. Fred is a Vietnam Vet, 173rd Airborne Brigade, retired from UPS after 30 years. Fred had his own business, several properties and is now nicely retired. Fred told me he is a gun safety freak.

Fred was an impressive old soldier who inspired confidence. Ricky, his son, didn’t quite give me that confident feeling. About 35 years old Ricky has had several jobs, he has a wife and two kids. He talks real loud and knows everything about anything including hunting. I asked Ricky what he thought about the large Deer population and State regulations that keep hunters from really stalking their prey. Ricky said, “there are all kinds of populations that need thinning out, some things just need killing.”

N.F., Fred and Ricky invited me to join them, after seeing Ricky handle his shotgun in the kitchen and hearing his diatribe on ‘thinning out the heard’ I respectfully declined hunting to make sure Ben and Becky’s wedding was officiated and overseen thoroughly. (I would not be around Ricky in the woods for any amount of money). As afternoon started to fade Ben and Becky arrived and introduced themselves and conversation got loud and wild.

Ben can talk to anyone for hours, Becky can talk you into doing anything within an hour. (Becky is straight out fine, six pac abs, 40D cup, 25inch waist, 38 inch legs that make a pair of jeans grateful to be on her ass). Becky’s infectious smile and perfect teeth beg a wholesome girl image that fits the rural New York landscape as if she were in a Norman Rockwell drawing. Truth is she could talk Satan into giving up sin and get men to do anything she wants. Ben is lucky.

We split up into two groups after we drew a beer, me, Ben and Becky went to the living room. N.F., Fred and Ricky went to the den. I covered the basics of New York marriage law (i.e., Domestic Relations Law, Town Clerks, County Clerks, etc.) and religious foundations for a marriage relationship (covenant, not contract) while drinking beer and eating cheese, pepperoni and crackers. Ben, usually talkative, was silent, awestruck and shaking. Becky glowed.

While wrapping up the course of study (Ben and Becky did over a period of two months by e-mail) N.F. walked in and opened the wall closet and drew a shotgun and a handgun which was in its case. N.F. excused himself and took the weapons to his bedroom. I was concerned but not distracted. Ben and Becky then finalized the ceremony arrangements with me concerning the rings and their vows. We were all locked in, Becky gleefully spoke while Ben did shots of Jack.

We got up and went to the den for more beer, what we saw was cause for thought. Fred and Ricky polished off a half bottle of Jack, a firearms display for the ages, a Winchester 1300 long barrel shotgun, Browning Gold Supelite Hunter 12 gauge and Remington 1100 semi auto. Neon Orange tiger stripped hunting overalls and deer scent and other hunting peripherals.

Clouds of pipe, cigar, cigarette and marijuana smoke wafted through the den. They discussed how to transverse an area of state land that they got permission to hunt on, they discussed gun safety and what would happen if anyone fucked up. All was in place and agreed upon, they had all they needed. “If we see it, we’ll kill it, Ricky said joyfully. (N.F. wasn’t there)

Ben and Becky went back into the kitchen to join Elly in serving dinner (deer sausage in a basil marinara sauce over ravioli). Fred and Ricky talked and drank while handling weapons and ammunition, I went looking for N.F. who was in the garage. I watched him clean his Remington 860 and wipe off his black .357 Magnum revolver. “N.F., what’s the pistol for?” “RJ, shit happens, its not going to happen to me.”

“Elly said that dinner is ready, how long you gonna be?” “I’m with you right now RJ, lets go eat.” (N.F. put the weapons in a black duffel bag and put it in a cabinet) We joined Elly, Ben, Becky, Fred and Ricky. I asked the blessing, we ate and we spoke about hunting deer and the State land near Minnewaska State Park. Becky piped up, “you know your limited to what you can catch on State property, I got 90 acres next to me and I can get you permission to hunt.”

Ricky’s jaw dropped as Becky told of the heards of deer that eat all the flowers, berry’s and other plants growing on her property. Fred told Ricky to wipe the drool of his face. Becky looked at Ricky with a suspect glance and then looked at Ben who was talking a mile a minuet about the deer and how big they were. “All kinds of bucks with big racks wandering all over.”

Ben and Becky left after desert and said they would see everybody the next day for the wedding. N.F. got ready for bed as did the Fred and Ricky. I poured myself another beer in the den and began to pray for the safety of everyone hunting, in the wedding and at my home. I knew only God would be able to keep grief from happening. After praying I drank my beer, took my medication and went to bed.

I heard stirring in the kitchen, so I got up, got in my sweats and went to look. Fred and N.F. were dressed in their hunting gear and looked sober and serious as they packed their gear. Ricky looked like a cross between Rambo and Col. Kurtz in Apocalypse Now. His camouflage face and psychotic facial expression were alarming enough without smelling like a deer pissed all over him. “Got to have the scent or they might smell the man stench on ya.”

“We’re going to State land first RJ, if we don’t get anything there we’ll be at Becky’s by afternoon and be in the woods until sunset.” “N.F., did Becky get you permission to hunt on the adjoining acreage?” “Yeah, she put me on a three way conversation with the other owner who said ‘have at it’ RJ, we’re good to go.” “I expect we’ll get what we’re hunting for” said Fred with confidence. “N.F. and I have scored big before, we should do well.” I watched as they rode off into the darkness of the morning.

Later that morning, I took my pipe and one of the retrievers on a walk in the woods near the house. It was a serene fall morning some of the leaves were still on the trees in random hues of gold, brown, orange and red. The yellow lab running along a well worn path finding a spot to relieve herself. I was feeling great and very relaxed. Then I heard shots ring out about 500 yards away, someone was hunting on the property illegally or shooting at me.

The dog took off like a greyhound, barking as she headed for the house, I dove for the ground and low crawled for cover. I got on my phone and called Elly who was on with the State Police. I heard movement, I debated quickly over whether or not to identify myself and get whoever was shooting to do the same. I knew if I didn’t and got shot the hunters would say it was my fault for being where they were shooting. So I shouted, “Cease fire, Cease fire, identify yourself.”

Another shot rang out and hit something about 60 yards away. I was mad and scared, I wished I had a rifle. Then I heard a shotgun blast from behind me, from near the house, it was Elly and one of the neighbors. “RJ, you alright?” “Yeah Elly, get those sons of bitches shooting at me!” “RJ, this is Greg Gordon, the neighbors are on it as we speak, come on out, we gotcha covered.”

I low crawled about 75 yards along the edge of the trail. When I stood up, I was covered with dust and mud, Elly used a knife to pick the ticks off the jacket I was wearing and I checked myself to see if any were stuck to me anywhere else. Just a few minuets later, Greg informed me and the neighbors, the State Police got the illegal hunters and arrested them. It was 8:30 am.

I had some coffee, took some pain pills, blood pressure medication and a shot of Jamison and asked Elly to wake me up in early afternoon. I thought about my life and the people I would have left behind if I got killed as I faded off to sleep. Elly woke me up about 1:30 pm in the afternoon. I prepared for the wedding. Elly informed me that the hunting party had no luck so far and was on their way to Becky’s to stalk Bambi.

As the afternoon faded into darkness, I had changed into preaching clothes with Bible and vows in hand. I also reviewed the wedding license and made sure that all was in order. I was ready for the service. The hunters showed up from their expedition. Fred was obviously perturbed, N.F. walked in the house with Ricky who was hands were bound with nylon and duck tape.

Fred said, “I’ll unwrap him in a minuet N.F.” “No problem” said N.F. smiling. “I’ll be upstairs, I gotta change my shorts and shower.” I couldn’t wait to tell him what happened to me or hear about his day with Ricky and why he was bound like a prisoner. A little later we sat around the table as Elly and me told the hunters what happened to me. N.F. said, “this was the wrong day to hunt, listen to this”….(Fred just finished cutting the nylon ties and duck tape off Ricky).

“We were on State land and caught nothing. Too many assholes in the woods spooking the deer or shooting for no fucking reason whatsoever. Game Wardens were everywhere, apparently many assholes didn’t have hunting licenses and got treated to tickets and rides in State Trooper Vehicles. We got stopped too but of course we checked out. We got the fuck out of there and went to Becky’s as fast as we could.” N.F. then took a sip of beer and continued.

“At Becky’s we get in the woods and sit still for awhile sure enough, deer – a small heard moving together. Ricky gets sights in on a buck and shoots, he doesn’t maintain visual or voice contact, we don’t know where he’s at, turns out he missed, then from a wooded area behind the deer, gunshots galore, at least 15 shots. Unsafe dickheads were on the property without permission shooting up the place. Before we could get to them the owner did. When the State Police got there the geezer had the assholes laying face down in the leaves.”

“N.F., why was Ricky duck taped?” I asked N.F. looking at Ricky, who shook his head responding, “I kinda got hot.” N.F. snapped, “Kinda got hot, you were returning fire with an AK-47, how did you conceal that from us?” “Thank God N.F. got you to the ground and concealed” said Fred. “I had to wrap you up for your own safety…you weren’t hearing shit”

I excused myself and went online to see if civilians could purchase body armor. The hunters got cleaned up for the evening nuptials. Elly got the kitchen ready as we prepared for Ben and Becky to arrive with the party people. Ben and Becky arrived, we went over all the arrangements and we were on schedule. I kept Ben from the bar and Becky from preaching to him about drinking before the wedding.

The room was full and I got everyone’s attention by invoking the presence of God with prayer. The wedding was under way. Ben was very somber, Becky smiled tearfully with joy, I then pronounced them man and wife. The partying soon began, food – prime rib dinner, cake, pastries, parfait, ice cream, and all kinds of other edibles to snack on. The Bride and Groom now man and wife drank and got wild. I encouraged them to save the energy for the bedroom.

During the night Lucky and Tina (Tina’s aka is Tits - 42 E’s) told the hunters that they have about 20 acres next to their house and that deer are in it all the time. Ricky was gung-ho about another hunting adventure. Fred was not, but he was having fun, N.F. had a good buzz going but got sober when Ricky discussed hunting. I encouraged everyone to keep partying. I kept Becky from raping her husband in the garage and told her to take him home. They left about 1:00 am.

I spent another half hour talking to a soldier who just got orders to Iraq. I told him what the American Legion could do for him and how to get an additional $100,000 in life insurance. He was apprehensive, but knows that its his duty to go an he would not shrink from his duty. I gave him encouragement an prayed with him. He left about 1:30am. Everybody left. I then went to bed. It was a nice sound sleep. I was awakened by a crash in the kitchen.

The dogs barked as I made my way down the hall. It was 4:30am. The hunters were packing up and going to Lucky’s, they knew bad luck and bad decisions were behind them. Ricky picked up his shotgun as Fred stared him down. “Treat that weapon like your wife”, Fred barked. Ricky said indignantly, “Wait a minuet, I actually respect my weapon, this was an accident.”

Again, I watched them ride into the pre-dawn darkness. I went back to sleep and woke up about 8:00 am. Elly asked, “going for a walk this morning.” “No, if anything did happen to me I could depend on the dogs to piss on me to mark the spot I fell at as they run for better cover.” Elly laughed and said that she knew that I wouldn’t have a problem after yesterday. I stayed in the yard, I knew where the other shotgun was too.

I spent the day reflecting on the wedding, Ben and Becky returned to say thank you and stayed for dinner. The hunters came back without any deer in an uneventful day. Ricky was depressed, Fred was very philosophical about the weekend, he said, “we didn’t shoot anything and we didn’t get shot, like kissing your sister - we broke even.” “I’ll leave the AK at home next time” said Ricky. N.F. was standing behind him, looking at him in a way that declared next time wouldn’t come.

RJ

New Bartender

Somehow life does dish out what we put into it, sometimes we get what we give. My week sucked. I’m tired of bad news about my health. I work so hard to stay healthy and life dishes out what it will. Life’s a bitch and then you die. Forgive me if I fight off the die part. I wanted to go away. I packed up and planned it. So much for plans when you find out your health is not good and you have a diagnosis that stresses you out more than you are already.

I went to the dive to see the Jets play Miami, the Jets won. I watched the Giants play Chicago, the Bears were all in the Giants backside, but the Giants won. Both teams overcoming their own fuck ups to win on the same Sunday. (Was this a divine message or my mind playing games on itself?) I walked in and ERL, Yaega, Timmy and one of the young guys were in the dive on the bowling machine/game.

The Met Fan showed up a little later and we watched both the Jets and Giants games. Cary walked in, just finished a gig down the road and stopped in for a while. We talked about music, life, religion, travel and the regulars at the dive. He reflected warmly about a talk he had with Candy. (Most everybody does). We talked a little about ecclesiastic history and the Canon of Scripture, we then had more to drink. Cary had to get home before six o’clock. He didn’t make it.

I thought about my house, how cold it would be when I got home. Then Timmy brought me back to earth and I played some tunes. Doc eased in and took up residence at the front end of the bar. He was his usual self, easy going and quite relaxed. It was a cold nasty day, but the crowd was really right, but it did get better with a surprise, at least for me.

I thought about Thanksgiving weekend and my time upstate in Ulster County, the wedding I performed, the drunken hunters who returned without Bambi and my long walk in the woods with a yellow Labrador retriever. (The dog went with me to mark the spot If I fell, that is piss on me if I stopped, then the dog might have notified its master). Yaega brought me back to reality when she let me know my glass was empty. Yaega was 15 minuets from ‘end of shift’.

Then a slender, sexy well built woman with dark hair and appealing latin features walked in and greeted Yaega and was ready to get behind the bar and go to work. It was her first day. Yaega introduced Rhoda to everybody in the ancient dive. The regulars put Rhoda at ease very quickly and let her know she was already one of the crowd. What was even more reassuring to Rhoda and the regulars is that she brought some of her regulars from her other workplace with her.

Rhoda was gracious, decent, attentive and cordial, I believe in time our hard bitten group of outlaws will break these wonderful traits. Yaega and ERL shot some pool in the back when Evie showed up. No shit, drama, trauma and craziness. Evie’s eyes rolled like dice and I thought I saw her tongue flick like a snakes (I was only drinking beer) ERL took her out back, I only heard Evie, she stormed out and left. Yaega took ERL home.

About that time Chucky came in and the place returned to its easy going, fun loving ways. Everybody was into the games in the back or just talking. Rhoda seemed to find a fast friend in Doc. They talked a lot and Doc smiled a little more than usual (that was nice to see). I got to talk to Rhoda only to find out she knows Dino (like for several years). Dino was supposed to be there but probably got preoccupied.

Rhoda also told me she was there Friday night checking the place out and had a long talk with a very nice, super cool lady, who filled her in on a lot of the past events in the dive. I asked Rhoda who this lady was, “Candy,” “she is just a breath of fresh air.” (Another person infected by Candy’s irrepressible vivacity) Rhoda also said Bossman was coming to the dive to check on her. I determined then I shouldn’t stay too long.

Rhoda works on Wednesday Night, she will be there to run the dive while the Pool Team marches on. (May as well march the way we’ve been shooting).

Love

RJ