Office by Alex Penny
Bringing all the happenings on a small scale. No, we won't be talking about diplomacy nor foreign affairs, unless it involves "that one French broad Joe and Dave were fighting about."
We leave the bar at a quarter to two. It gives us enough time to stop at the supermarket to grab beers, booze, steaks, veggies and mushrooms. Can’t ever pass up on mushrooms. The charcoal gets lit around 2:30 A.M. My buddy gets the hot tub heated and he seasons the veggies and mushrooms before wrapping it all in foil. I season the steak with sea salt and pepper.
We start a game of bocce ball in the backyard while waiting for the charcoal to burn and cool down. I take a picture of the pile of ash underneath the Weber. It’s a lovely mountain of ash.
Once the briquettes get gray, I put on two tri-tips.
I’m crushing him in bocce, up 13-4 and we’re playing to 15.
The 20-year old neighbor walks through the side door. She’s home late from her young people parties and noticed the lights and heard our yelps. She knows our summer habits.
Amber’s a beautiful young lady, who makes us sandwiches at her day job when she’s not in school.
I win the game by hitting the boccino twice. Amber smiles and sniffs at the tri-tips.
I grab her a beer and put the New York strips on the grill along with the veggies.
The laggards roll in. They finally closed the bar, but they brought gifts: bottles of whiskey, a few cases of beer and a half dozen freshly cleaved rib-eyes.
What a lovely morning.
A cooler with ice cold Bud Light, deer jerky and squirrels in the yard for me to shoot.
Sometimes it’s so boring, I nap during the day just on the chance I may have a decent dream. I just don’t wanna spend all day looking over that barren field. I remember when it was filled with corn or potatoes and what not. Now, they cut me a check to keep it empty. So I sit here all day wondering what to do besides chew on this beef jerky, nudge away the old mutt and wait for the wife and kids to get home from school. Hopefully they don’t become farmers and try to live off the fat o’ the land.
Old Tom talking about growing up and young love.
…Well if she wants to see me, you can tell her that I’m easily found. Tell her there’s a spot out ‘neath Abram’s Bridge, and tell her there’s a darkness on the edge of town…
Sometimes I listen to John Cougar Mellencamp (yeah, I left Cougar in) sing about small towns, and I get a hankering for drive-in burger joints. No, not like a Sonic. A real old one like you see in the movies where I can take my girlfriend and run into random people we know. They’ll tell us about some party out in an orchard and when we get there there’ll be a large bonfire where I can just back up my truck and sit on the tailgate. And when I need to piss, I’ll just whip it out and the girls will hoot and holler because I’m packing some heat. My girlfriend will get all jealous and talk about how I’m just showing off and I’ll just say, “Hey, Diane, let’s run off behind a shady tree, dribble off those Bobbie Brooks, let me do as I please.” And she’ll slap me because her name’s Cindy and her hot little sister is Diane.
So the other night, Chris and I are sitting on the porch drinking Coors Light and eating some deer jerky. He’s talking about how blond Diane was giving BJs again for drinks in the bathroom at Mulligans. I’m not really paying attention because I’m pissed off the Dodgers and Lakers lost on the same day and we’re down to a half dozen beers in the cooler and I only got like 5 cigarettes left. And guess what happens, this fucking black cat jumps up on the railing and walks it all around the porch and hops off like it’s nobody’s business. Needless to say, Chris freaked out and took off. You know how he hates cats, especially them black ones. I didn’t care. Chris had been bumming smokes off me, so hey, more for me, right?
