w ill not save your ass if you drank more money than you got
because a citizen has to pay their bar bills. There’s tw o dollars
sitting on the bar in front o f you, the remains o f your pile like
old bones, fragments o f an archaic skeleton, little remnants o f
a big civilization dug up and yo u ’re eyeing it like it’s the grail
but with dishonorable intent and profane desire. It’s rightly
the bartender’s. H e’s been taking the money as it’s been due
with righteous discipline, which is w hy you ain’t overdrawn
on the account; you asked him in a tiny mouse voice afraid o f
the answer, you squeaked in the male din, a frightened
whisper, you asked him if you owed, you got up the nerve,
and yo u ’re straight with him as far as it goes but these extra
bills are rightly his; or you could have another drink; but you
had wanted to end it well, with some honor; and also he ain’t a
waitress, dear, and the m oney’s got his mark on it; and he ain’t
cracked a smile or said a tender word all night, which a girl
ain’t used to, he don’t like girl drinkers as a matter o f principle
you assume, he’s fast, he’s quiet, he’s got a hard, cold face with
a square ja w and long, oily hair and a shirt half open and a long
earring and bad teeth and he’s aloof and cold to you; and then
suddenly, so fast it didn’t happen, there’s a big, warm hand on
your hand, a big, hairy hand, and he’s squeezing your fingers
around the two dollars and he’s half smiling, one half o f his
face is smiling, and he says darling take a fucking cab. Y ou
stare at him but you can’t exactly see him; his face ain’t all in
one piece; it’s sort o f split and moving; and before you exactly
see his mouth move and hook it up with his words he’s gone,
w ay to a foreign country, the other end o f the bar where
they’re having bourbon, some cowboys with beards and hats.
Life’s always kind in a pinch. The universe opens up with a
gift. There’s generosity, someone gives you something special
you need; two dollars and you don’t have to suck nothing, you
are saved and the man in his generosity stirs you deeply.
Y o u ’re inspired to succeed with the rest o f the plan— move,
stand, walk, execute each detail o f the plan with a military
precision, although you wish you could take o ff your T-shirt
because it’s very hot but you follow the plan you made in your
mind and although your legs buckle and the ground isn’t solid,
it’s swelling and heaving, you make it past the strange, w avy
creatures with the deep baritone voices and the erections and
you get out, you get out the door even though it’s hard and
yo u ’re afraid because you can see outside that it’s raining, it’s
raining very hard, it’s pouring down, it’s so wet, you really
have an aversion to it because all your clothes will be drenched
and soaking and your lungs will be wet and your bones will
get all damp and wet and you can’t really see very well and the
rain’s too heavy and everything looks different from before
