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“So what should we do now?” she says. And I think, what should we do? We both look at the phone.
“Well,” I say, “what we should do, and what we’re going to do are probably two very different things.” I think a minute. “What are the chances he’s home from his date?”
“Not good” she says and we both look at the phone again. “It’s only nine.”
“Then where are we going to hang out?” I start to panic just a little. Neither of us are ready to go home just yet.
“Well” she says “we can call him and see. Maybe he’s home.” We’re both eyeing the phone still.
Only nine pm. Only. But we’ve been in this building all day. Since before two wiring, rewiring and trying to repair issues with paintings. The worst being the Pugsly piece. But I was able to fix it. And I believe it will hold. I’m happy with result.
Still, its been a long day in a week of long days and really we should go home, eat a little, sleep a lot and try to recover as much as we can. Only one errand to run tomorrow, one more thing to pick up, one more thing to do. So really we ‘should’ go home and sleep. We did manage to get a break in today, for coffee soda and pizza. Not that long ago actually.
Now, high on caffeinated calories, at nine o’clock on a Saturday night bored and with no where to hang out I look at Liz and say “let’s just go to Maverik”
“okay” she says.
And off we go.
“I’ll be right back” I say, Hopping down and closing the door. I run in for a diet white tea mango peach flavor for $1.84. I don’t notice the two guys buying the 18 case of beer behind me. As I’m leaving the store they follow me. Another guy going in asks them how they are doing and one of them replies “not sober”.
Liz isn’t in the truck so I head to our usual spot, the far picnic table. Most convenience stores don’t have picnic tables but Maverik is special. The guys sit at the other one and discuss how the one of them meant to say ‘not drunk enough’ and ‘too sober’. They then inform the third guy of this as he comes out. And also, “Utah sucks”. Apparently Utah will suck less after nine or so beers. I should conduct a few experiments to see.
“Too sober” and “not sober” take off just as Liz is coming out of the store. I notice she is not buying an 18 pack of beer but only cigarettes and 64 ozs of soda, the usual. I guess Utah will continue to suck for us tonight.
She sits down and we begin to discuss the day.
“What’s left to do?” I’m thinking out loud but not really thinking at all.
“Send out postcards, reception. What should we have for the reception?”
“I say we just have cheese crackers and cookers. And punch.”
“How are you ladies this evening” He sits down with a flourish and I don’t even know where he came from. But here he is, smelling of too much cologne and alcohol, holding a can of beer and smiling. “hope my smoking a cigarette doesn’t interrupt you.
“You’re fine” Liz says “How are you?” and I’m still wondering where the hell he came from.
Before he can answer, or before he does Liz introduces us
“James this is Sasha, Sasha this is James. James is one of the managers here. Is that right?”
“I’m still training for it” he says. And I notice he’s dressed up for something. Dressed up but not there. Here but not at work. And obviously drunk. You could tell by the way he sat down. By the way he smells. By the beer in his hand.
Leaning back to one side he takes a swig of beer and tells us not to worry he’s brushed his one tooth. Then he smiles big. Missing several front teeth.
“Sorry, it’s just a bad joke” he says. I don’t get it. But I’ll have to remember to brush my teeth before drinking any beer.
“You ladies have a lovely evening” he says and is off, walking semi-straight, across the parking lot before I can even think what to say. He’s pretty quick on his feet too. Maybe I’m the one that needs that beer.
“So, Costco?”
“Costco?” I ask.
“For the reception. We can make a Costco run. The day before and I can keep it all in my fridge.
I can hear the techno cars about two blocks before they get there. Two sedans and a convertible, top down. They pull in and out pop two girls and a guy from the first sedan and a woman from the convertible. The girls go inside. Another beer run not doubt. The guy walks over to the convertible and they turn down their music
“I’m Eric” I hear him say. “you guys are going to the this party too?” I don’t hear their replies but they chat back and forth a bit. The girls return with two cases of beer each. I knew they would. I must be psychic. They all pile back in their cars and speed of to their party, dance music blaring once again.
Half an hour later I hear her before I see her. Laughing around the other side of the bushes at the edge of the parking lot. She’s loud and somewhat obnoxious, with a huge pink guitar slung across her back. As she enters the store she forgets to turn sideways and bangs it on the sides of the door.
After she emerges from the store, she spots the couple that have been sitting in their truck for the last forty minutes or so smoking cigarettes and talking. She goes right up to them and starts to sing. This is perhaps the most bizarre behavior I have seen all night. After she’s done she talks to the, sometimes loudly enough for me to hear a bit. She says her names ‘candy’ and says she’s “Only had three beers” that she wrote that song “when I wanted to have some fuckin’ fun”. Then she sang another song. Perhaps at their request this time.
Her voice is really pretty nice and surprisingly steady. More conversation after that. “yeah, I live three doors down from him.” and then “Let me give you my number…… oh I already did”
And then she was gone. Off in a hurry, guitar slung around her back again, walking off with the guy she walked up with, back around the bushes laughing as she goes.
All night cars come and go in packs, the lot filling up quick then emptying just as quickly leaving us to plan and plot.
Here comes some guy with a shaved head. He’s not coming towards us but heading to the shed that’s to the side of the store. To the back of the shed. Turning on the light. What’s he doing back there? What’s that sound? Is he using a hose? Oh. Oh no. Is he peeing? He’s peeing. And Liz and I try not to laugh too loudly. We hold it in as he walks back by.
Really the Maverik is a happenin’ place on a Saturday night. Most people are buying beer, beer, cigarettes and beer.
And now what the hell is this guy wearing?
“Is that a fur vest?” I ask Liz, not sure I’m seeing this right. After all it’s late August.
“It looks like it”
Black and white print vest with fur trim, tight jeans, tennis shoes. I ponder this. In he goes, and comes back out fairly quickly, no beer. No nothing. I can tell, those jeans leave no room for cigarettes.
I didn’t notice his two friends, dressed normally for the weather in t-shirts and jeans, holding two gas cans, sitting on the lawn. Out of gas. They all walk off to the east.
But that vest just screams “party” so perhaps they’ll be back for beer once the car is running again.
The cat comes and goes again. I’ve spent enough time at Maverik myself to recognize it and know it wont even look at me no matter how much I call to it. There are two but only one is out tonight. Ignoring me as usual.
Unlike this latest drunk, who I didn’t even see stumble up to the picnic table. I really need to sit on the other side so I can see them coming. Or get a mirror. He is just suddenly there. Scouting around for cigarettes on the ground, looking for a dropped one. Success! He sits down and lights up.
“White scion” he whispers
“What?” Liz says. And he mumbles some more. “I can’t here you. It hard to make out what he’s saying, he’s barely talking over a whisper.
“Have you seen a white scion?” we have to strain to make out even that much. I shake my head and Liz says no. He mumbles something, a girl, and something else, and I just shake my head and Liz says no again.
“If you see a girl in a white scion you come get me?” he wants to know and then he takes off, before we answer, stumbling away, across the parking lot towards the bushes. Halfway there he decides to run home, long sleeves flailing back and forth, flip flops flapping on the pavement, to the edge of the parking lot and around the corner, out of the sight. Not bad for a guy that could barely stand up straight and in fact even fell into Liz’s truck once.
Another techno car. This time a woman in a tight mini skirt gets out, leaving it running and goes in. She’s back out quickly with, surprise surprise, two cases of beer. Its never once case, always two. Back in the car and off to some anonymous party I can only imagine.
Not everyone does come for beer. There’s the nurse that got the coffee. Must have been getting ready for the late shift. She had a white car. I wonder if it was a scion. The security guard with the extra large big gulp. But the big seller this evening, and probably most evenings is beer, and quite a few of the buyers are already on their way to drunk.
And now he’s back. Still looking for his white scion no doubt. But not coming over to us this time. Stumbling down the street, to the corner, crossing over and I lose sight of him. He seemed so sad. I don’t worry about the scion. If he’s that drunk she’s probably with someone else and not going to come to the Maverik.
That’s when the car alarm goes off and I notice all six people standing around the car, four girls, two guys. The two girls who look like they own the car also look confused as to how to turn it off. It takes them a few minutes but finally they do get it off. Only to set it off again a few minutes later. Again it takes them a bit to get it off. Brunettes but blondes at heart. The car is white and I can’t help myself. I wonder if it’s a scion.
It’s now eleven thirty. Liz Is tired and I can hardly see straight. And I’ve not even had any beers. Time to head home if I expect Liz to be able to be conscience sometime tomorrow for our last few errands. Besides, two and a half hours at the Maverik on a Saturday night and I’m calling anyone else a freak?
