Ye Good ole Telly

You ever scan the crowd for them? Those who like you?

The faces in the rain, the addicts behind the curtains.

You star the night off with two beers, no matter how much you wash your hands the fucking smell of carburetor cleaner and break fluids just won’t leave. You drink your first beer while making that shrimp soup.

Twice you glance down, your hands and what you see is your hands are still dirty from the grease, caked under your nails, black as tar.

You sit down on the oak table, and start your second beer. The shrimp soup is hot, so you dip your bread and finish off the beer before you find a movie. Dirty Harry, Django Unchained, nah how about Trainspotting. Ya, perfect…well nearly and you reach over the refrigerator and pop yourself a tall glass of wine. Bottle full but as the opening credits roll your half-way down the bottle.

A few scenes and your half way through the shrimp soup. Every spoon you taken to your mouth is perfumed with that carburetor cleaner mixture. Fuck, that ruining your mood. You about had it, when you break down and pause the movie. Another try to wash your hands, nothing, the only result is two dirty towels.

“Shit, I can’t get this fucking grease off my hands!” You shouted and look over at the bourbon and vodka. You resume the movie and get back into drinking. Your glass half empty and your half capable of paying attention. Taught now freely swimming through your head: I’ll get better job, I show them. Your face is red and as some poor ole addict get beat up in the movie, you cheer. “Ya that what you got you fucking addict!” Absolutely, free of sin, you find yourself.

The credits roll and you down the fine glass of vodka. Forget dishes tonight. Turn off the lights, climb the stairs to your bed. Your bed awaits, but wait…a glass next to bed, rum. Dry and hard. Just one final one before bed, the last one, and you think the addicts in the film: Fucking scum, ya ain’t got no self control. You shake your head and fall into the pillows and take your final whiff. “Fucking carburetor cleaner…” you tell yourself before turning off the light.

 

 

4 thoughts on “Ye Good ole Telly

    1. To be honest, I’m very frustrated and it not the same old late twenty frustration others have, it the fact I was force to immigrate to USA. About loneliness, I’m like many in room full people they know, but who can’t even remember your name. But if your interesting in striking up a friendship, I always up for it!

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