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***when we last left off, lefty and i were abandoned at a gas station in germantown. thanks to noel for filling in.***

so, lefty and i are abandoned at a gas station in germantown, memphis, tennessee. it’s 8:30pm. i have fifteen pounds of fresh gulf shrimp in a cooler in the backseat of my dead car, along with camping equipment, a guitar, about fifty cds and fifty baseballs, two gloves, three pairs of shoes, and clean underwear. we approach the service station.

me:
‘hey, my car died, that’s it over there, do you know a place where my dog and i can go for about four hours?’

joe:
‘i get off in fifteen minutes. i’ll take you where you need to go.’

sorted.

stacey then gave lefty some water, unplugged the vending machine so i could get a quick charge, and had me fill out a paper explaining what happened. when i wrote, ‘a little smoke came out of the hood,’ she says, ‘i’ll bet you wish you had a little smoke right now, huh?’ i had visions of her taking me home with her, which might well have changed everything …

we said goodbye to stacey and climbed into joe’s mitsubishi. joe was a nervous, musclebound communications major who was home for the summer. he’s going to be a senior at some school in knoxville this year, but didn’t like knoxville at all and didn’t really seem like he had any idea what he was going to do with his life. i could relate … his father is tom prestigiacomo, a veteran radio disc jockey in the memphis area. joe got into communications because his dad was on the radio. joe was a sweet guy, and really did me a solid, but i could in no way imagine this kid on the radio. i hope he figures shit out.

he drove me about two miles and pulled up in front of a big bar with a front porch. before the car even stopped, joe was yelling out the window, ‘this guy’s stranded and waiting for his friends and he needs a place to sit for a few hours with his dog.’ the door guy responds, ‘it’s fine as long as it’s not a cat.’ strange … but we were in. i invited joe in for a beer but he said he had to go work out and so we shook hands and lefty and i watched him speed off, zero to sixty in five seconds in a 35 mph zone.

through the doors of newby’s … a band was setting up to the right. good sign. cute college girls and bikers co-mingling. check. we sat next to a coupla nice looking kids and got clued into the three cans of natural light for a dollar special. like most humans, i hate natural light, but you can’t beat it at that price, and i kinda wanted to fit in. they open them all at once and set them in front of you. drink fast …

as is often the case, after that first beer, everything just opened up. i mean the night was going great so far all things considering, but it opened up just fine. the kinda night i mighta gotten laid if i had closed the place down. a good night …

i met paul bishop and his shit hot girlfriend (leigh ann? i can’t remember) and we played a competitive game of darts. nobody bothered lefty, and he made many friends as is his way. everyone in the bar was walking around with three cans of natural light. there were beers everywhere. you just kinda reached for the closest can and took a belt. there was initially a lot of, ‘is this yours? i think i set mine over there …’ but we quickly threw into the group model; we drank from the communal natty light. beautiful … natty light should be public domain, anyway. free to anyone who wants it in limitless quantities. and it damn near is on thursdays at newby’s, memphis, tennessee.

after darts (i lost to paul on a heroic twin double bulls-eye turn – quite a performance – his girl was turned on i could tell) we retired out back to this huge patio where more of paul and his girl’s friends showed up. joints were quickly passed, and joe davies, a spirited lad, tried to guess lefty’s name:

‘what’s your dog’s name? no wait … let me guess. his name is old el paso.’

‘close …’

‘no wait … thunder box!’

thunder box. that’s my cell phone’s new name, and the eternally generalized term for the big vagina in the sky …

after getting incredibly high, i lost the dog. i thought the area was fenced in and it wasn’t. i’m walking around in all this high grass in the pitch black, going into kitchen back doors, calling out like an idiot. paul’s girl was helping me, and even though i was completely freaked out i amazingly kept it together. we got back to the table and she tells everybody that i lost the dog. joe davies goes, ‘i just saw him, like, four minutes ago.’ i’m thinking, ‘dude, you’re high, you saw the dog twenty minutes ago,’ but sure enough, joe stands up, walks into the back, gets on his hands and knees, crawls under a bunch of broken tables, and pulls out lefty. incredible. as he walks past me he goes, ‘thunder box! seriously, whadya think?’

good man that joe davies … actually, they were all stellar people.

after i found the dog, todd called and informed me that i might have to drive back. a sobering moment. ‘no, i’m fine. yep. i’ve barely had anything. i’ll be fine.’ so i stopped drinking and sat at a table doing a little writing to calm down from the dog debacle. paul came back and we chatted for a good while. great fucking guy. kindred spirit. seriously, this guy was a brother, and his girl was solid as hell, too. i felt so good after a while that i ordered another beer.

but before it was delivered, i got the call. hooch and todd were out front. i said, ‘gimme a minute. i have to say goodbye to some people who were nice to me.’

then i walked out into the warm memphis night into the tired, loving arms of hooch and todd. i can’t remember being happier in recent memory. if your life really does flash before your eyes before you die, that moment will surely be an image i’ll remember. todd had already driven down to hooch’s from peoria, an easy six hour drive. hooch has been planning and preparing the party for a week. they both have two kids. not to mention wives … they were tired as hell, without a doubt. but they came and got me. three and a half hours down and three and a half hours back. picking up crazy fucking kevin and his dog and his fresh shrimp and guitar and baseballs in memphis, wasted on a thursday night. you think you got good friends? i got you beat … and we haven’t even gotten home yet.

Tags:   memphis8 Comments