Don't wear my shit again. It still smells like you and I keep on smelling it.
I lay them down, one glass after another. I loved that liquid gold. The first few were always neat with water. After that, I preferred them on ice. That's when they tasted like ice teas. I pretended that's what they were. That's the kind of shit that makes you feel tough, especially when there were pretty hands pouring your drink. I didn't even need the attention. I just liked watching pretty hands fetching pretty bottles and pouring pretty drinks. It was a pretty damn good time.
I'd look at her nails and examine their shape, whether or not the nail polish was chipped, wrinkles in the fingers, ripeness of the flesh, and cuticles. I didn't care what shape my nails were in. I trimmed mine so there were never any tips; no extra fingernail. What only mattered to me was that the hands which poured my drinks were balanced enough to be pretty to look at. That's how I chose where and when to drink.
It took three times as many beers as scotches to get a good buzz going. I'd take two doubles over six pints almost every time. That first sip is like biting into a sheet of rusted metal. I'd force that first gulp down. I could feel the back my tongue follow it down my throat while my teeth clenched and my saliva glands spit out more liquid to rinse the taste away. I'd exhale the alcohol that had evaporated into my esophagus and re-inhale it through my nostrils and I'd be proud at how most people hated that smell. When I'd finish the first glass, I'd wash it down with water, and step outside for the first cigarette. It was always a Parliament. That was the routine.
Those were my ladies; my mistresses, my concubines. Glenlivet, Glenfiddich, Macallan, Dewars, Glenmorangie, Oban, and my happy ending tug jobber, Parliament light. Occasionally, a high class barely legal broad would show up, and she'd keep me entertained all night. I didn't worry about life insurance or ugly children. All I cared about was getting tanked up enough to knock that nine in on the snap. That yellow striped one had it out for me though. She never wanted to go home. I'd even yell at her. I hated that bitch. I still love her though. I can't ever leave her for too long. Even with all those other broads around. When she's keen to me, I could beat anyone in the room. When she was being stubborn, I'd step out more frequently because I'd be losing.
Oh. What a woman that number nine!
"What time did you get here?" she asked.
"I've had a few already," I answered. I could still hold my liquor.
"Did you get a table?" she asked.
"No. I thought I'd wait for you. There's no one here anyway."
"Okay. Do you want something else?" she asked.
"Ugh. Are you drinking Crown?" I asked in return.
"Yeah. Hold this for me," she said and handed me her jacket. From her little Coach purse, she pulled out a small bottle of Pepcid AC.
"I like you better when you turn pink," I said with a grin.
She laughed. She had a funny high pitched inhale laugh. If there were a five inch tall braying donkey, that's what her laugh would sound like.
"Two chilled Crown. One diet back," I said to the bartender who had already turned my way.
"Sorry I was late," she said and took my water.
"I hate you," I said. Laughing, she almost spit up all the water she swallowed.
"I'm just kidding," I said. "Here. Wear my sweater, so it smells like you."
Mushroom Pesto Salad by Me
Serves five
Taragon oil
1/8 lb truffles
1 large portabella
1/4 lb creminis
1/4 lb shitake mushrooms
Pesto:
5 cloves of garlic
4 cups fresh basil leaves
5 tablespoons pine nuts
3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
3/4 cup freshly grated parmesan reggiano
kosher salt to flavor
freshly ground pepper
1 tablespoon red pepper flakes
Put all ingredients for the pesto sauce in a food processor and process until the sauce is a creamy consistency.
Brush taragon oil onto both sides of the large portabella with a dash of salt and pepper. Grill about five minutes on each side.
Sweat the rest of the mushrooms in a pan with extra virgin olive oil. Keep on heat until the stems get slightly limp.
Cut the portabella into 1/4 inch slices from the center of the cap. Toss with the rest of the mushrooms and pesto in a bowl.
Best served chilled with a pinot grigio or pinor noir. I recommend the 2004 Cantina Terlan Pinot Grigio because of its nice honeydew sweetness, or if you prefer reds try the 2005 Ayoub Pinot Noir to add more flavor to your palate.
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