Boobs Mahoney's Birthday!

Boobs Mahoney’s Birthday!


Last Saturday was Ms. Mahoney’s birthday so a gathering of tribes was in order. We met, me, Boobs and Notorious A at an Italian restaurant. After much food and drinks, it was time for to rendezvous with Swarthy Pete for more cocktails and perhaps a film. The plan was to have a quiet evening with Swarthy Pete’s two dates and us four friends. Yeah, you heard me, Swarthy Pete wanted to bring two dates. We thought it mighty brave of Swarthy Pete daring to expose his women to us. Didn’t he know us? I mean, “We weren’t going to be ignored, Dan.” If you get the Fatal Attraction reference, you can imagine the plots that were discussed prior to his arrival.
Surprisingly, Pete showed up solo explaining that his dates were sleeping until movie time. Apparently, the three of them had had a big day. Rock on Swarthy Pete, we want details. It was a confusing tale. They both wanted him, one had had him but the other didn’t know, they were friends, who broke up with boyfriend, ex boyfriend was stalking, Swarthy Pete was threatening, Swarthy Pete is #1 the devil and #2 a home wrecker. I JUST WANT A BATH!
One thing was very clear; the whole affair fell under the bad idea category. It was time for an intervention. DITCH THEM SWARTHY PETE! Let’s go to a dive on the Westside and drink, screw the cinema. They can meet us at the bar if you have to have them Swarthy Pete. He said they weren’t old enough to get into the bar. Collective groans filled the air. I love you Swarthy Pete and I’m glad you are a friend to the youth but geez man is the crack of dawn safe from you? The voices of reason prevailed and after we had shots of something blue, we headed downtown.
When we walked into the bar, Jim Carroll’s All the people Who Died blasted from the jukebox. Aha, felt like home. We played pool and drank some more, which put everyone in rare form. Notorious A was in sort of a drunk funk that made her unusually mellow. Swarthy Pete claimed that he wanted to make out with some random girl because he was in that kind of mood. SWARTHY PETE SEZ, “YOU MUST BE THIS DRUNK TO RIDE.” You go Swarthy Pete!
The place began to fill up about 2am and we decided to leave around 3:30. I was standing near the bar trying to pay a tab when I was approached by two guys. One was really drunk and the other was, I guess, his friend so he could humiliate him. At least that seemed to be his purpose. Anyway, Mr. NotSoDrunk said he was a writer, a published writer no less. I remember thinking could it be that we have traveled so far just to in up in a writer’s bar. Mr. NSD kept up the 20 questions interrogation of me and I tried to discourage him by dropping the M word but he wasn’t buying. He started saying that anybody could write a book and he started talking about his, of course. Boobs came up just in time to hear the anybody can write a book crack. You know you shouldn’t piss Boobs off on her birthday. At this point If Notorious A had been on top of her game things could have gotten ugly. I can hear her sweet voice now, “AS YOUR EDITOR, I RECOMEND YOU KICK HIS ASS.” I didn’t feel violent at 3am so I followed the only other evil option open to me. I decided to fain interest just to watch him run around the bar looking for a pen. He found one and began to write all about his book and himself on a napkin. I thought there really is a lot of crap on that napkin. Is that your library of congress number you arrogant fuck? Now you fellow writers out there might be thinking, OH SHIT! was that me, was I in a bar last Saturday. Of course you were in a bar last Saturday, you’re a writer. The only way you weren’t in a bar is if you’re a poet. If you’re a poet, you stayed home, got drunk, masturbated and felt sorry for yourself.
Aside: Brother Poets I didn’t mean any of that, I was just trying to be funny. Forgive me. I know you are a sensitive lot and that was cruel of me. So, please don’t shoot me, I know most of you carry weapons. Love and Kisses, Shef
Anyway, Mr. NSD is right anybody can write a book and in his case not a very good one. I should mention his book here but I don’t want to give him any free press. I wonder if he is waiting for me to email him. NOT GONNA HAPPEN!
I got home about 4:30 and tried quietly slipping into bed. I heard an angry male voice say, “WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN.” Oopsy! Did I mention the M word stands for married? Well, that’s another story.