A Barback Love Story
Having wasted so much of this Valentine's week railing against Flav, I've truly lost the loving spirit of the season. Some have even challenged that I don't know what love is, that I have no heart. And so...to prove them wrong...to prove that A New Millennium Nigga does have a heart...I'd like to share "A Barback Love Story" with all of you.
It was the summer of '91 -- Damn, how old am I? -- and I was looking for a job. I had graduated...with a certificate and everything...from the Columbia University School of Bartending (or something like that) and I was hitting every bar and restaurant in New Haven, CT looking for a job. Then I walked into Fat Tuesday's (not a part of the chain -- I always thought it was a McDowell's/McDonald's situation). I didn't look like I would rob the place blind and I spelled everything right on my application so I was hired on the spot. Little did I know that my life would change forever.
It was the end of my first night of work and my boss, having paid me five bucks an hour (+ ten percent of the tip jar), turned to me and said, "Good job. Get yourself a drink." I turned and there he stood...dressed in black...his golden visage as beautiful as anything I'd ever seen. That was the night I fell in with love...with Jack...Jack Daniel's.
He was smooth...so smooth. And the minute he touched my lips...I got a warm feeling in my chest. My heart was filled with joy. We spent a lot of time together that summer. And, oh, how he made me laugh. "Nigga, you're drunk," my friends would say. "You're just jealous, because we have a special bond. Jack swept me off my feet." "You landed on the sidewalk," they would shoot back as they walked away. "They don't understand us, Jack," I would say. He had my heart. Who had time to care what our love was doing to my liver?
But then things took a turn for the worse. We spent the night together. When I woke up, he was gone...every drop. I had a splitting headache. "Damn, man, I said touch me in the morning...I ain't say to beat me over the head with a Louisville Slugger, then just walk away." Then...I...felt..Oh no...I'm gonna...
I ran down the hall to the bathroom. As I threw up, I wondered, "Am I pregnant?" My doctor assured me that I was not. I was relieved. Then he added, "You...can't get pregnant." "Oh no! Why me?!?!?!," I exclaimed. "Are you drunk right now?," he asked. "Maybe...," I responded, "Ask do you why?"
We'd see each other now and then after that summer -- Barback Summer I call it -- sometimes for birthdays or New Year's or days ending in "y". I saw him just the other day. "It's been so long," I said. "Too long," he smirked. Then it was like old times. The two of us...together...again. "I can't do this," I cried as I ran outside. A friend came after me. "Are you alright?," he asked. "That depends...Are you Siamese twins?" The looks of pity on his faces suggested that he wasn't. I cried as my friend walked away.
I sat out on the porch for a while...by myself...waiting for it to stop rocking like a fishing boat...waiting for Jack Daniel's to go away. Eventually he did. I got in my car and drove on home. As he shrank down to nothing in my rearview mirror, I wiped away the last of my tears and muttered, "Jack Daniel's...sometimes I wish I could quit you."
Are you happy now? There's your muthafuckin' love story!
It was the summer of '91 -- Damn, how old am I? -- and I was looking for a job. I had graduated...with a certificate and everything...from the Columbia University School of Bartending (or something like that) and I was hitting every bar and restaurant in New Haven, CT looking for a job. Then I walked into Fat Tuesday's (not a part of the chain -- I always thought it was a McDowell's/McDonald's situation). I didn't look like I would rob the place blind and I spelled everything right on my application so I was hired on the spot. Little did I know that my life would change forever.
It was the end of my first night of work and my boss, having paid me five bucks an hour (+ ten percent of the tip jar), turned to me and said, "Good job. Get yourself a drink." I turned and there he stood...dressed in black...his golden visage as beautiful as anything I'd ever seen. That was the night I fell in with love...with Jack...Jack Daniel's.
He was smooth...so smooth. And the minute he touched my lips...I got a warm feeling in my chest. My heart was filled with joy. We spent a lot of time together that summer. And, oh, how he made me laugh. "Nigga, you're drunk," my friends would say. "You're just jealous, because we have a special bond. Jack swept me off my feet." "You landed on the sidewalk," they would shoot back as they walked away. "They don't understand us, Jack," I would say. He had my heart. Who had time to care what our love was doing to my liver?
But then things took a turn for the worse. We spent the night together. When I woke up, he was gone...every drop. I had a splitting headache. "Damn, man, I said touch me in the morning...I ain't say to beat me over the head with a Louisville Slugger, then just walk away." Then...I...felt..Oh no...I'm gonna...
I ran down the hall to the bathroom. As I threw up, I wondered, "Am I pregnant?" My doctor assured me that I was not. I was relieved. Then he added, "You...can't get pregnant." "Oh no! Why me?!?!?!," I exclaimed. "Are you drunk right now?," he asked. "Maybe...," I responded, "Ask do you why?"
We'd see each other now and then after that summer -- Barback Summer I call it -- sometimes for birthdays or New Year's or days ending in "y". I saw him just the other day. "It's been so long," I said. "Too long," he smirked. Then it was like old times. The two of us...together...again. "I can't do this," I cried as I ran outside. A friend came after me. "Are you alright?," he asked. "That depends...Are you Siamese twins?" The looks of pity on his faces suggested that he wasn't. I cried as my friend walked away.
I sat out on the porch for a while...by myself...waiting for it to stop rocking like a fishing boat...waiting for Jack Daniel's to go away. Eventually he did. I got in my car and drove on home. As he shrank down to nothing in my rearview mirror, I wiped away the last of my tears and muttered, "Jack Daniel's...sometimes I wish I could quit you."
Are you happy now? There's your muthafuckin' love story!
posted by New Millennium Nigga at 9:37 AM
3 Comments:
Daphne- I think you're right. You did marry a crazy person.;-)
Orlando, I don't know how to break this to you, but Jack and I have been seeing each other behind your back for some time now. And he says that I finish him off in a way that you could never even understand.
-- Seth
I've had a similarly abusive relationship for years with a coy Scotsman...
Do the Dewars!!!
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