Learning How to Smile

I’d lost count of how many drinks I had imbibed at this point. I just knew that 2 more sat in front of me at the bar and I was well past the point of rational thought. I’m pretty sure I had made a good assault on all my friends in my phone via text messaging. My inebriated self was setting up a good adventure/mystery for me to solve the next day. Nothing quite like waking up to countless answered messages from friends of which you have no idea what the question was anymore. My drunken self could be a right jerk sometimes.

I could feel myself faltering in my seat. This was rare, but I was pretty sure I was in that zone, a few sips away from a very terrible night. It takes years of practice to find this sweet spot. Countless evenings heaving over white porcelain, keeping my face cooled by the tiles on the floor. Sometimes friends would be kind enough to throw a blanket on me, most nights I was left to fend for myself. Usually the last thought passing through my head is be sure to lay on my side, don’t need to go out like countless other stupid musicians. Although their adventures usually have much harder drugs involved, not just the simple old go-to of alcohol.

Knowing I didn’t have much time left before I hit the passed out phase I decided to make a run for it. I looked at my one untouched drink and figured it would be a waste to leave it there, but knowing it would absolutely be detrimental to myself I found a friend at the bar and passed them the drink. They looked at me wide-eyed and surprised, perhaps it will come back to me one day. I said my goodbye, or whatever passed for one, I’m not sure if I was able to speak clearly at this point anymore and I walked briskly to my car.

Cleverly, I had parked on the street in the direction of my home. My keys made it into the lock of my car with little effort and I felt this would be an easy trip home. With the car started I pulled out into traffic. Reality hit me faster than I was prepared for. My vision had gone double. I was way drunker than expected. I had two choices now, drive for the center of what I could see between the extra lanes in front of me and hope for the best, or close one eye. I clamped one eye shut and got myself home within minutes, luckily I only lived a few blocks away.

The rest of the night blacked out I awoke to a phone full of return messages. ‘Great!’ I sarcastically thought to myself. I was taken aback at one message in particular:

It is best to start facing a mirror. Sitting, standing, or whatever is comfortable. Using your left cheek muscle lift the left corner of your mouth upward. Repeat on the right using your right cheek muscles. You will see now that your mouth is in a curve shape. From here you can experiment with keeping your mouth closed, opening your mouth and showing teeth, and a variety of different smile options. Work with it and really make it your own.

It was in response to my message: “I think I forgot how to smile…” After reading this I don’t think I will ever forget again, nor will I ever chance a drive like that again.

-V-

Boozer

“Tell me if you heard this,” The burly man to my right tries to whisper in my ear, but only achieves spitting and yelling in his drunken stupor, “a chicken, and priest, and a… um… Damn! I used to know this one. Hold on a sec.” He starts tapping his finger on the side of his head and making a weird whishing sound.

“You sure you remember this?” I ask him repulsed by his presence. Why did this guy have to sit next to me in this nearly empty bar? I don’t think I was putting of a particularly friendly vibe tonight.

“Huh? Oh Yeah, the joke!” He seems to be very self amused at this point, “So the doctor was in on it! You get it?” He says slapping his hand hard against my back.

I wonder how I find myself in these situations regularly. I’ve been on this earth thirty-five years now, and every bar I go into recently seems to end up with some drunk wanting to be my best friend. It’s not like I’m rich or famous. I don’t even look like anyone important. I guess I just have one of those faces. You know the kind that says, ‘yes I want to hear all your problems, and oh don’t mind the fact that you just puked on my shoes. No, not at all, I get them dry-cleaned once a week; I’m a bit OCD about my shoes. Really? I didn’t know how much you miss your daughter. I bet it must be hard.’

Never fail, I walk in and order a beer, and within five minutes I have my own personal intoxicated new friend telling me all his problems. The worst part is I just sit here and take it. I listen and nod and agree with them. I console them as best I can. I have no idea why. I bet they would go ballistic if I tried anything else.

Once I did try to keep myself amused by cleverly mocking the tanked steward next to me, but plastered people seem to have a weird sense about that. He got real serious and offered to clean my clock. I plied him with a drink and all was forgiven. I will have to say that about the inebriated, no matter how badly you betray one, a drink in their favor fixes all. I decided to try a new tact with this one.

“So, why me?” I asked. This caught him off guard, not enough to stop him from swaying, but he did screw up his eyes and gave me a solid look.

“Why you what?” I could see the spittle fly at me as he desperately tried to articulate.

“Why did you sit down next to me to talk?” I could feel the pangs of anger in my bones.

“Oh, you just think you’re so high and mighty! The world revolves around you.” He turned slightly and started a discourse with the pillar holding up the ceiling. “This guy thinks the whole world revolves around him! What you think of that friend?”

In this moment I noticed I had an out. I dropped some cash on the bar and slid silently away. Perhaps it was time to stop drinking for a while. One of these days my luck with the boozers would run out and I didn’t need to push my luck.

-V-