YOU LOOK LIKE SOMEONE I KNOW

Like most sane people, I go to the cigar bar now and then to have a quiet smoke, far away from children, earth-moms, and the permanently upset classes.
Unfortunately, that's a concept that baffles sportsfans.
Many of whom are braindead.
And loud.

I had barely ordered my adult beverage and lit up a pipeful of gently rubbed blonde flake -- flake is probably the only way I can tolerate most blondes -- when a very intoxicated yutz staring at the screen let out a loud whoop and started cheering.

"Dang, I win! I won!"

I had no idea he was in the game, but he clarified to the young fellow next to him that he had put big money on the game, and could now finally pay off some of the bets he had lost on other games.

"Dang man, I thought I'd have to skip F town, motherfo...., crapping almighty F Christ, boy I tell you, that was F close, the bastards, hah, Jesus trying to F cheat on me, this is big, BIG, ah tell yew BIG, man I'm so F lucky lost in Vegas last week sweating bullets shouldn't have put so much on the F game dang gonna F celebrate then collect man buckets I was worried thought I'h have to lay low but F big time yeah baby oh sweet illigitmate lord make the phone calls tomorrow tonight I'm gonna find me some...., g'ddang another Jack, bartender, make it a double a triple you got something to eat back there I'm starving bitch did you see them F losers man close by a margin points oh Jesus Mary and Joe the F pansy hot dawg mother F dangit wow!"

He was very voluble, and called his creditors "idiots". Which, given that they had trusted him to be an honest gambler, was undoubtedly accurate.

Every time I thought he had died down, he started up again.

The entire bar got to hear how bad Vegas had been to him. Twice. But things were better now, oh boy. He couldn't wait to get back to Vegas.
Oh boy. Vegas man, and damn them all.

Whenever I tried to talk to someone -- 'hey, Johnny, how are....' -- the yutz would yell "haaaaaaaah, I won, I won, I won, I won, I won!"

'Oh hi, Bob, didn't see you....'

"Christ almighty, did you see that, brilliant!"

Then 'I say, could you pass the mat.....'

"Jesus holy Batman, those bozos, yeah!"

Had to ask someone to repeat themselves because the yutz was going "whoop, whoop, whoop, baby baby baby, whoop!"

"African swallows are non-migratory, so the coconuts..."

I nearly dropped my pipe when the drunk let loose again.


Christ on a crutch you bastards, yee haw!



A few more outbursts later, when there were less people in the bar, and I was planning to have a second pipe, I sidled up to him, and asked "why are Russian businessmen looking for you?"

It's a good question. I had given it a lot of thought. If anything, it will change the tone of a place really fast when you ask someone that entirely out of the blue.
Especially if they're a wee bit drunk.
It seemed so right.


'Yeah man. Their car is parked down near Montgomery Street.
Three of them. Big. Real big. Thought you should know.'

'Eh, it could be just a case of mistaken identity.'

'You weren't in Vegas, hey were you?'

'Two of them are meatballs.'

'I mean seriously.'


When he paid and left, I stuck my head out the door to watch him disappear.

Just before he got to the corner, I yelled "Pravda, comrade, pravda!"

"Pravda!"

He stumbled.


The second pipe was way better than the first.
Still the same blonde tobacco.
But sweeter.



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