Cindy Was Gripping an Unopened Bottle of Drambuie by its Neck and Smiling Wildly...
Part 3: Do You Hope to Pluck This Dusky Jewel
When you finally break free from your parents, and your life is unrestrained, it's a lot like being a dog, home alone, with all the food out. You don't know where to start or when to stop…
Cindy and Mary walked into the condo behind Moose, who was carrying a case of Heineken, my favorite vehicle for chasing shots. Cindy was gripping an unopened bottle of Drambuie by its neck and smiling wildly, and that was all I needed to get into a partying mood.
Cindy looked like a roller coaster and a fun house all wrapped up into one very curvy-hot chick with incredible tits, and since Moose had already punched his ticket and enjoyed more than one ride at that amusement park, it was eyes off her. I have my demons, and as a result, I'm regretfully, a lot of things I'd rather not be, but I'm no buddy-fucker. Besides, Cindy's boyfriend Butch was being released from prison on Monday, and who in their right mind would want to do anything to piss him off?
Mary was more like a Ferris wheel—a slower ride, but when you got to the top, the view was crystal clear and spectacular. She was breathtaking in her own unique way, and I did all I could to keep my cards close to my vest.
It felt a lot like a blind date with Mary and me. While Moose foolishly pawed all over Cindy, Mary and I were naturally paired, and although it wasn't a slam dunk, we both sensed it was game on.
We all sat close together on the velveteen couch in the formal living room, putting our beers, wine, Drambuie, and shot glasses on the chrome-trimmed, round glass coffee table, where we began filling the thick glass ashtrays with cigarette butts we crushed out. It all looked so weird. It was my parents' condo, and they weren't drinkers or smokers. They never had stuff like that on their coffee table…
Once the radio was blasting and the booze scattered about, with a joint burning between Cindy's puckered lips, my parents' formal living room had been successfully transformed into a fucking gin mill, something I anticipated when I reluctantly agreed to let the girls crash at the condo. Free-spirited girls like Cindy and Mary can be a lot of fun, but they can cause a lot of trouble, too…
As soon as one joint burned completely, they lit another. The girls were drinking red wine straight from the bottle and smoking pot nonstop while Moose and I did shots and beer chasers. It was no secret we were all committed to getting totally fucked up. It was the '70s, and that's what kids our age did.
By the time Moose and the girls arrived at the condo, I had already downed twenty shots. Moose thought he could go hard and catch me, but I wouldn't let him. I went shot for shot with him, keeping my twenty shot advantage. Moose managed to do 14 shots in a couple of hours, and I was up to 34. Moose was a lightweight and he was already starting to slur his words…
Maybe we were trying to impress the girls or just totally out of control, but when one of the girls suggested we go barhopping, despite Moose and I not being the least bit capable of driving a motor vehicle, we couldn't say no.
We left in a hurry. The smoke-filled living room full of empty beer cans, empty wine bottles, and ashtrays that were full and spilling over onto the coffee table. The night was young and had great promise, and we didn't want to miss a single minute of it. So we all stumbled onto the elevator and headed down towards the underground garage where my father's Lincoln was parked. We took what was left of the Drambuie along for the ride…
Keep your eyes on the road, your hand upon the wheel…
To be continued…
*All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental…
