A Quick Birthday

Buck wanders into the Ooze one warm August Monday evening.

He flops onto a stool just inside the door, obviously exhausted, and slowly sheds his jacket.

Luigi is bouncing tonight, and he steps out from behind the Mega-Touch video game to where Buck is sitting.

“Hard weekend?” he says.

“Fuck,” Buck grunts, “you could definitely say that.”

He takes a half full pack of Number 7’s out of his flight coat’s inside pocket and removes a lighter from his black cargo’s. Everything is done in a kind of hazy, slow motion. Half open eyes drift from nothing to nothing.

The man probably should have been in bed.

“It was my birthday this weekend.” says Buck after lighting the smoke.

“No shit? How was it?” asks Luigi.

“Great, it was a riot, just took a lot outta me is all. Myself, the Animal, Crusty Bill, Potatoes, Edith the Fedith, and Bizz went out by the north boat launch on Dixon Lake. Edith’s boyfriend and his hillbilly buddies have a little spot around there behind a gravel pit, right at the water’s edge. It’s cool, out of sight, no one can hear ya, it’s got a little stretch of sand that they harrow and maintain themselves. A nice spot. So, the lot of us grab a few tents and the Animal and Crusty Bill got some mushrooms for all of us.”

“Were those Lee’s?” asks Luigi, grinning with his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, I think so.” Buck says, not actually sure at all.

“Pretty good eh?” Luigi says nodding his head enthusiastically.

“Yeah for sure. It doesn’t take long to hit ya either, it was fuckin near instant.” says Buck with a slightly more tired version of Luigi’s enthusiasm.

“Did you guys catch any of that rain out there?”

“Oh fuck yeah we did! Almost as soon as we got the tents set up it started to pour. I thought my shitty old tent was gonna blow right into the lake. But, at that time we were all soaked, sitting in Animal’s car, off our faces listening to Acid Bath and laughing like fuck at the tent, so it really wasn’t much of an issue hahaha.”

“That shit didn’t last too long though.” says Luigi.

“No, it was fine, the tents were dry and they weren’t so fucked that you couldn’t sleep in them. But yeah, after the rain passed and we finally got out of Animals car, half of Spruce view had showed up for a bonfire, and here we are completely fucked, wondering what’s going on. Potatoes is lying in Boris’ truck just staring at the ceiling and laughing to himself, Boris’ had puked up some old Irish stew he’d taken his shrooms with and gone to nurse his belly in the tent, Crusty Bill was freaked out by all the strange people so she was in her tent, and then there was me, Animal and Edith out at the fire, painting our faces with tire chalk, and screaming and dancing hahahaha it was fucked!” says Buck giggling and shaking his head.

Luigi laughs, “Sounds like you had a pretty good birthday man”

“Well actually we just decided to celebrate on the weekend. Today is my birthday,” says Buck, glancing up at the clock, “and it looks like it’s about to end in half an hour.”

Luigi shoots his head around to look at the clock, “Holy fuck, really?!”

Bucks face begins to droop as he knows what is coming next. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted saying them.

“Well we gotta get some birthday shooters before it’s over man! What’re ya drinkin?”

“Just a pil, please Luigi, honestly man, no shooters for me, I’m good.” says Buck, shaking his head.

Why the fuck did I say it was my birthday, shoulda known better, goddamn it….

Luigi returns with a small tray covered in shot glasses, and places them one by one in front of Buck, who is now resting his forehead in his palm wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

There are twelve shots, all of them the same pinkish hue.

“What the fuck are these?” says Buck, expecting the worst.

“Ah, they’re not bad, they’re all sour jacks.” Luigi says as he places two bottles of Pilsner on the bar.

“Well, here’s to ya,” says Luigi, raising a shot glass.

Buck picks one up himself, nods his head and takes it back.

The sugary, bitter, hot taste of the whiskey and sour puss glides down Bucks throat. He shakes his head and exhales slow, reaching over the shots for one of the cool bottles of beer to chase down the shot.

Luigi snatches both away, “uh uh uh,” he says in a mocking parental tone, “not until you’ve finished all of your shots.”

Buck looks over at Sandy working behind the bar, who throws up her hands and says,

“You heard the man, birthday boy. Better get to it.”

Buck is too tired to argue with either of them, and knows he’d more than likely lose anyway. His shoulders slump and he sighs at the amount of booze in front of him before he picks up the next one and takes it back.

Then the next,

Then the next.

Breathe.

Then the next,

And the next.

Luigi is cheering him on, like some deranged drinking coach “Go on champ, go on, only a few left.” He parades the two beer in front of Buck.

“Times running out, you’ve only got fifteen minutes until the birthdays over, come on!”

Buck places the last shot glass down on the bar, empty, with ten minutes to spare.

He closes his eyes tight and shakes his head as the final sour jack hits his guts with a warm thud.

“Good work my boy,” says Luigi through his laughter, “Here’s your beer, happy birthday.”

He sets the two bottles in front of Buck and goes back to his Mega-Touch game.

“Thanks Luigi,” says Buck, still trying to catch his breath. He has a nice cold slurp of beer, washing down the residual taste of bourbon, realizing suddenly that when he entered the Ooze twenty five minutes previous he was stone sober and that now he was having difficulty reading the clock.

Should’ve eaten something today, fuck.

Well, at least the birthday is over now, midnight has struck, the ball has ended and coaches are pumpkins once more.

“Fuckin hell Luigi,” Buck slurs as he stands up from his stool “I reckon that’s the fastest I’ve ever gone from sober to completely pissed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and vomit.”

He turns, and marches in a zig zag towards the bathroom, quickening his pace slightly as he gets closer. He steps into a stall without closing the door and barely has time to position his head above the toilet bowl before he loses a portion of the alcohol he’s just consumed. Just a brief expulsion, not everything in his stomach, but enough that he can now return to the bar and finish his drinks.

He flushes the toilet and walks over to the sink. Turning on the cold water tap, he tilts his head down towards it to slurp some up and rinse the awful taste out of his mouth.

Shouldn’t have mentioned my birthday. Mushroom hangovers always leave you with a fragile belly, fuck sake…

He dries his mouth with his sleeve and turns back towards the bathroom’s exit.

He gets back to the bar just in time to see Beaton enter the Ooze.

“Hey man, how’s it goin?” he says to Buck in passing as he rounds the bar to order from Sandy.

“Ah, ya know, can’t complain, no one listens.” says Buck very nonchalantly, as he sits back down on his stool and takes another cigarette from his pack. The mixture of alcohol and puke is still lingering in his mouth, and he wishes he had a menthol instead.

“Hey,” says Luigi across the bar, “It’s his birthday today.” nodding over to Buck.

Beaton looks from Luigi back to Buck, “Ah, right on man, what’re ya drinkin?” and before Buck can lift his two bottles and say that he’s fine for drinks, Luigi cuts in, “Sour jacks!”

“No no no no, no more sour jacks!” Buck pleads over Luigi’s mischievous giggles.

“Sandy could you pour a couple sour jacks for me and Buck over there.” says Beaton, handing a twenty across the bar and looking at Buck with a sadistic grin. And as she begins pouring the shots, Buck slowly places his head between his folded arms on the bar, and shuts his eyes.

Fuck.