Griffin Writes

At twenty years old, neither girl was legally able to get into any bars. They knew of one bar, however, where the manager sometimes let it slide. The bar was covered in second rate graffiti like you might see in an after-school special. Walking past the windows it was clear the place was empty, Wednesday night after all. The two girls walked up to the bouncer. They stuck their tits and asses out, played with their hair and took their voices up to a higher pitch. The bouncer said it was fifteen dollars cover and, once inside, penny beers all night long. He asked for ID. The girls flirted harder. The bouncer offered indifference. He said he’d ask his manager if he could get the girls in.

A forty-ish black gentleman noticed us from inside the bar. He was sitting alone at the bar, seemingly the only patron. Before the bouncer returned with the verdict, the guy came over to us. He told us he’d just won the lottery. He pointed to his scuffed runners, “jus bought dese today. Cash. Two hundred bones.” Next he lifted up his gold chain, “and dis right here cost me ten large. Bought it today too. Tell you what,” he rubbed his knuckles against his chin, “y’all come inside and drinks is on me all night long.”

“Aren’t drinks only a penny?” I raised an eyebrow.

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The cell phone alarm blared its shitty digital melody. Every time I hit snooze, it came back with exponential vengeance. The default Verizon ringtone was beginning to blend into my nightmares, whether it was waking me up as an alarm or announcing a call before Jeff came through on the other end telling me to hurry the fuck up and get to wherever I was going. I sat up in bed and waited for the hangover symptoms to take hold – dry mouth, burning eyes, mild pounding in my head. Not too bad.

I picked out some fresh clothes from my suitcase. The hotel floor was littered with wet towels outside the bathroom. Charlie and Greg had made it up for a morning shower; it was Greg’s first shower in a week. Jace was inside the bathroom plucking his eyebrows in the mirror.

“Jace, get out. I need a quick shower.”

“No way dude, I’m about to shower. And I’m using the last towel. Too bad, you should have woken up sooner.” He slammed the door in my face, giggling until the sounds of running water drowned it out.

I pounded a fist on the door, “Well hurry the fuck up then.”

“Don’t count on it. I’m shaving my legs too.”

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Footsteps and rustling shattered my already delicate sleep. I had forgotten where I was. Eye wide open, everything pitch black and unfamiliar. Momentary confusion consumed my mental resources while I palmed the surroundings. And, as the reality of being on the bus flooded back into me so did the realization of a compound hangover. I could only laugh, peeling the curtain open to let the morning light bombard my senses. I rolled out of the bunk, almost losing my balance before landing on my feet. I braced a hand on each wall, walking down the bus like I was inside a ship on rough waters. It was a small miracle when I discovered the fridge stocked full of sugar-free Red Bulls. I would find out later Jeff had managed to swing a deal with a Red Bull rep.

Tucker had been the source of the noise. He was setting up his laptop on his table. I tried to hide my agony as a stumbled by, grunting in place of morning pleasantries. Stepping off the bus, the southern air was thick but hollow as if god was rationing out oxygen. I finished the red bulls before finding the hotel room. A knock on the door revealed that Charlie was already awake.

“Sup dude, how was your night?” He said, going back to packing up his suitcase. » Read the rest of this entry «

“Fuuuuuuuck.”

My cell phone’s alarm rattled my ears like a thousand empty beer cans falling on concrete. I mashed at the keys to shut it up. The three hours that had passed since I set it seemed more like three minutes. My head ached for more sleep and my body ached from dehydration. Through a pained squint I spied a half full water bottle on our hotel room’s table. I sat up before stumbling to the bottle; each step sent my brain crashing from one side of my skull to another.

The only good news on this sorry morning was that the drive to Gainesville was only two hours. I called Bill’s room to reunite the reporter girl with her ice queen friend from the night before. Bill answered the phone sounding like he was enjoying the day’s start as much as me.

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