Tag: Writing Challenge

Arthur was in a quandary.  Nancy had thrown his ass for a loop with the double zinger earlier and he had no solution to either.

“Look Arthur, I know you love me and I love you, but we have to make a decision what we should do.  Do you want to keep the baby and get married, get married and don’t keep the baby, or I just own your soul for the rest of your life making you wish that they had ice water wherever you are? It’s up to you. I’m going to my mothers and I know where you’ll be at.  Your thinking place.”

Wally’s was a cornerstone to the college community.  Everyone who walked in was carded and if you were a first timer and not a “Wally Walk” member you were forced to sit in the 1500 square foot “Family Area” that had every single State Tech football team’s autographed jersey from 1977 when Wally Marshall , owner was captain of the State Tech football team and let them to a Pine Bowl victory against Minnesota State.

It had great burgers, solid drink specials and a glass partition in the bathroom above the urinals so the men could make faces at everyone as they took a piss. It was originally a mirror that had the State Tech logo on the side that faced the bar. But after the State Tech win over “The University” a small brawl and one chair found its way through the glass mirror.

Wally was ticked off at the men who ruined his bar mirror and on the day of the first “Ladies Night” the mirror was replaced by a pane of glass.  Teen women from all around the Tri-State area would come and try a get their first look at junk at Wally’s. Wally had build a platform and during “Guy’s Night”, a weekly bikini contest was held with all the women strutting on the platform next to the bathroom.  Many a drunk woman and many sorority girls during rush would spend their time on the platform facing the window and giving everyone in the bathroom a show. Guys would back up from the urinals to check out the show and if they were caught, the women would ring the brass bell that was hung over the glass and thus “Doing the walk at Wally’s was born.”

Arthur walked into Wally’s not because he wanted to, every time he walked in he was forced to hug his old friend and mentor Wally and start the story that was the latest in whatever tragedy his life had befell him.

Wally would usually listen and then wait for the right moment to say something pithy and thought provoking and then was gone to the next State Tech former player who needed his ear. Today though, Wally was at the bar with a bottle of Irish Whiskey.

“Wally, why are you drinking the uisce beatha tonight? Normally I’m the one asking for the bottle of Bushmill’s to my table. Matter of fact, who are the snot nosed kids sitting at my table?” Arthur walked off toward a two topper near the end of the platform.

“Now Arthur, we don’t need a fight,” Wally slurred as he raised the bottle in the air, “I’ve got plenty of whiskey for both of us!”

Arthur looked at the two frat daddies, one who dared sit at his table with TWO popped collars and the other who dared to drink a MANHATTAN at his table.

Kain approached from his perch in the Bouncer Bin. “I told them it was reserved Artie. No blood tonight please.”

Arthur looked at the two men and asked “Gentlemen, I think you are at my table.”

“Piss off, this table isn’t reserved. Tell your boy to leave us alone and get that hot looking bitch back here with more drinks,” said Two-Popped.

Kaine growled but he was held back by Arthur’s right hand. “I’ll handle this, Kaine, you can call the cops now.”

“This is a public place and there is nothing you can do about it old man,” Manhattan said as he finished his glass.

With a quick and decisive move he pushed Two Popped into the wall using his right hand and grabbing the ponytail of Manhattan he pulled his head under the table.

“What’s it say?”

“Property of Wally’s,” Manhattan said with a hint of fear.

“Next to that,” Arthur said.

“This table is reserved in perpetuity for the best linebacker State Tech ever had, Arthur “The Moose” Snelling.”

“Are you the Moose,” Arthur asked with mock sincereity.

“No,” Manhattan said as his head was drug up from under the table.  Two-Popped stepped away from the table and tried to take a blind side swing at Arthur. And yet it never connected as he was cloth lined by Kaine.

“Thanks for the help brother, how’s your sister,” Arthur asked as he drug Manhattan to the door with Kaine dragging Two-Popped feet first.

“Good, I heard from the grapevine that you and Nancy are expecting, congratulations,” Kaine said as the Sheriff pulled up.

Kaine started the paperwork and dealt with the law while Arthur walked back into the restaurant/bar.

“Ladies and Gentleman, the Conference LEAADDDDDER of SACKS and the Emissary of Manhood, Arthur, “The MOOOOOOOSEEEEE Snelling,” Timothy, the bartender cried as he walked back in.

“I need a drink,” Arthur said to Timothy and looked around for Wally. “Where did he go?”

A squeal came from the platform as a 24 year old Tri-Delt cried out, “I can see Wally’s Weiner!”

Arthur walked with purpose into the bathroom and saw Wally trying to find the right urinal to piss in but ending up pissing everywhere but in one.

“What are you doing Artie?”

“I’m listening to an old drunk guy take a piss one drop at a time. Come on, your giving the Tri-Delts a peep show.”

“Does she have nice knockers?”

“No, but…”

Both men looked at each other as Wally put away his johnson and said “but at our age does it really matter?”

Wally washed his hands and turned back to the window and waved at the blonde who rang the bell and flashed Wally, who on the way out pulled a cord that turned red flashing lights on the platform.

“So what do I do Wally? I’m in for it good!”

“Do you love her?”

“Does it matter?”

“Do you love her?”

“Wally, do you love this bar?”

“More than life itself.”

“What if I told you that you could only be in this bar 3 nights a week looking at the hottest pieces of ass around, the other 4 days you had to serve drinks at a women’s prison. What would you say to that?”

“Is my mother in law coming to town?”

“Wally!”

“Nancy is a bitch, but you can’t have me make your decisions for you for the rest of your life. You’re 26 years old. Grow a pair of balls that don’t involve shooting roids, then we’ll talk,” Wally said as the crowd went wild as he walked out of the bathroom.

“Wally, I wanted you to be my first,” the blonde Tri-Delt said as she kissed him on the cheek.

“Stacy, you go and finish your degree and wait for a man that treats you like a queen, not because of what you give or don’t give him. Make him wait for you and then do him like you’ve never done before, because you never have.”

“Huh,” the Tri-Delt looked back at him with a confused look.

“Let me translate, don’t be a slut and graduate without getting preggers,” Arthur volunteered.

“Does it count if I don’t swallow,” Stacy turned red as she asked.

Wally hugged her and said, “Just remember to substitute for the protein!”

She walked away and the two men sat and talked about football, baseball, everything but the question that Arthur wanted his advice.  His frustration was evident. Hours passed and the table slowly filled up with bottles.

“Wally, what do I do?”

“If I tell you to marry her, you will, if I tell you to take her to the quack shack you will. Why don’t you nut up and be a man.”

“I am a man. I’ve knocked up Mary and married her.”

“How did that work out for you,” Wally said with a smile.

“25 % of my income gone and I rarely get to see Reagan.”

“It’s time to grow up son. I’m not going to be your guide forever. But I’ll make you a deal.  I’ll write down what I think you are going to do and what you probably should do on this envelope,” Wally said as he pulled out a blank envelope from his pocket and he started to write. “If I’m wrong I’ll give you my next paycheck, if I’m right you bounce for me for next Hell Night.” He gave the envelope to Timothy. Timothy turned and grabbed the staple gun and stapled it to the top of the bar, one of 50 envelopes that had various peoples names on them and the date.

“I thought after I broke that guys jaw I was banned from bouncing Hell Night.”

“Consider it punishment if you you’re an idiot.”

“So you think, I should,” Arthur is interrupted with a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for the text Wally, can you find your way to your room,” Nancy said with a smile?

“It’s up the stairs and second door on the left. Same place it’s been for the last 27 years,” Wally said as he started to stagger toward the velvet rope that let to his second floor flat. Dion opened the rope and tried to help Wally up the stairs but was refused but the older man.

“What’s the answer,” Arthur yelled at Wally as he jogged up the stairs.

“Look in her eyes and you’ll know. I’ll see you in two weeks. I’ll have your uniform ready for you.”

“Time to go Artie,” Nancy said as she let him to the door.

Arthur looked at Nancy and smiled. “I thought you were at your mothers.”

“I thought you knew me better.”

Steve Conway’s “Don’t sit on my flag,” is my next volunteer for my “Quotes” story collection.

The doorbell rang…

Brian looked at his alarm clock and cursed. 6:28 in the morning. Fricking garage sale.

It didn’t matter that his whole garage was filled up with crap that he never threw away, his neighborhood was populated by the blue hairs and the bargain hunters and they all expected his garage to be open by at least 6:30.

He opened the door and looked at the man in the wheelchair who stared at him as if he was violating the Geneva Convention.

“Is this where the…, “the man started to say.

“The signs, everything says 8 A.M. Not 7, sure as hell not as early as 6:30 in the morning sir,” Brian said yawning.  Realizing that he was still in the off white wife beater, plaid pajama shorts and pink bunny slippers he closed his Dallas Cowboys robe and yawned again.

“You know son, the early bird gets the worm,” the grizzled man said back to him.

“And he also gets a door closed in his face until 8 A.M. See you then,” Brian said as he shut the door.

Brian started making coffee and changed into a pair of shorts and a “Tom Landry for President” T-Shirt. He ate his cereal as the line around his house got larger.

“Don’t people have better things to do at 7 in the morning, like SLEEP” he yelled to no one in particular?

As he walked to the garage he looked at the collection of junk that he had out for sale.  From the gas weed eater that he couldn’t use anymore because the fumes bothered him too much to the collection of Clearly Canadian salt and pepper shakers that he had almost a case of.  He had an American flag draped over a chair that he intended to fly on the flagpole. His girlfriend was tired of tripping on the “treasures” that she said had to leave so she can move her stuff in. But of course, she stayed over at her apartment last night.

She laughed as she left last night, “See you in the morning. I’ll be there about 10 when everyone starts showing up.”

Yeah, right.

“Let’s release the assholes,” Brian said as he started to open his garage door.

“I’ll give you $5 for the weed eater,” an old lady started the haggling.

“What’s it say on the price tag?”

“I won’t pay that much, this is a garage sale, not K-Mart,” she countered back.

“Look lady, it’s 8 in the morning and you guys are pawing through my crap like it’s the Holy Grail,” Brian said with a sigh, “so pay the damn price or…”

“Wait till noon when all the vultures are gone and he really wants to get rid of the stuff,” said a voice.

Brian turned and it was the man in the wheelchair.

“They’ll steal you blind if you aren’t watching son,” he said as he started to carve something out of a block of wood.

“What do you want? I feel bad for slamming the door in your face,” Brian said as his eyes wandered from left to right as he started to move tables of junk out into the driveway.

“Just give me first chance on whatever isn’t sold son, you wouldn’t let me be the early bird, but I’ll still get the worm,” the man said as he continued to carve without even looking up.

As minute by minute passed he watched the people who were trying to screw him become more plentiful.

He caught some kids trying to get through the locked back door to see “what other shet this guys got”.

And while he tried to help everyone, the man carved.  Brian tried to figure out what he was carving but was too busy helping the “customers” and putting the fear of calling the cops on the crooks.

At one point the man growled at a kid “don’t sit on my flag,” as some 300 lb kid tried to take a rest on the chair that the flag had fallen down into the seat.

“I’m sorry, I meant to put that up,” Brian said as he shooed away the kids.

The man rolled over to the flag and reached for it, cradled it in his arms and wheeled himself over to the flagpole.  He leaned over and connected the flag and raised it, saluting it when he was done.

Brian went over and wheeled the man over the grass to just inside the garage when all of the sudden the man’s eyes turned red and a gun appeared out of nowhere.

“Mamm, I suggest you either pay the man twice what he’s offering or leave his property, cause if he doesn’t shoot you for theft , I will.”

The woman who had tried to walk away with the gas weed eater placed it on the ground.

“Along with everything else that you have taken mamm,” the old man said as he cocked the gun.

People were scattering and I could hear the cops coming.

“I wouldn’t run if I were you,” Brian said as he tried to inch closer to the man’s right side, “his hand seems a bit shaky but I think he could nail you from that distance.”

“I left some money for the weed eater while you were busy with him,” she motioned over to the table.

Brian walked over and saw a single $5 bill on the table.

The police car came out and the old man put his gun down in his lap and held his hands up in the air.

“What do we have here Frank,” the cop said to the old man.

“We’ve got theft and attempted breaking and entering by Lucy and her kids again Steve,” the old man said with a laugh.

“Why can’t you just RETIRE Frank?”

“I’ll retire when I’m dead Steve,” the old man said as he started to wheel himself two houses down, “You know where to find me when you need to fill out those reports and check the kids too, I think they stuffed his baseball cards down their shorts.”

The woman knew she was caught and laid on the ground with her hands behind her back, her sons joined her as more police cars joined into the situation.

The old man turned back to Brian and told him, “I’ll give you a fair price for everything else for the youth and senior center if you never let anyone sit on MY flag again.”

Brian just nodded.

 

“Hey hey hey, close the dvd case,” Leslie said.

“I did,” Sean said as he yanked the case away from his sister, “Don’t tell me what to do or I’m telling dad.”

“You didn’t do it right.  I don’t want you to ruin Mom’s DVD.”

“I’m not going to! Why don’t you just work on losing the 12 lbs that you gained after leaving fat camp!”

“Oh Sean, I just want to box your ears,” she said as she started to pout.

“Box my ears, you really scare me Les. Shut up or I’m telling your boyfriend that you wear falsies.”

“I don’t, you just need to stop looking at me that way,” Leslie said as she flipped her blonde hair out her face.  “I’m still a virgin.”

“Yeah, and Osama Bin Laden is still hiding in a cave in Afghanastan.”

“He is Sean, Jeremy told me that his brother’s best friend told him that we never buried Bin laden but we buried an imposter that you could only tell the difference by looking at the mole on his ass.”

“Leslie, there are times that I wonder why mom had to hook up with her gym teacher.”

“I look like Dad and you know it.”

“If Dad’s IQ was 170 points lower. The only think that makes you look like him is your mouth and anyone could have lips like yours with enough botox.”

“Whatever, jerk.”

As he watched his sister walk away in her pink pants and white blouse Sean realized that Leslie did look like their father but he would never admit it to her.  It was too much fun messing with her and making her think that she was her late mother’s gym instructor.

He looked at the DVD case that had broken spine from the time opening and closing the various times.  Thank goodness his father had a backup copy of the video because his sister and the entire family would just look and stare for hours at her.

She had long flowing brown hair that almost came to the middle of her back , a small petite nose that almost looked out of place on her round, full face with the blue eyes that would search deep into your soul.  That was her before the chemotherapy reduced her to a bald headed, sunken eyed, well monster.

Sean never looked past the first 2 ½ hours of the DVD.  He would prefer to remember his last football game with her there, cheering him on from the ambulance. The four touchdown catches he made meant nothing.  The only memory he had from the game was when he ran over to the ambulance and handed his mother the game ball.

“You take it Sean, you’re the hero,” Sean’s eyes watered as he could remember the moment, even tasting grass in his mouth.

“But I want you to have it mom, don’t you understand?”

Sean’s eyes misted up as the team took a knee in front of his mother.

“We won this game for you,” they said in unison.

“You won it for yourselves. Each one of you has made mistakes and has paid for them.  Listen to your parents; love them even when you don’t think they deserve it.  For if your heart is in the right place and your love is eternal, you will always,” she started to cough and took a whiff from the oxygen. “win.”

She fell back onto the stretcher and the medics wheeled her away.

Every boy had a patch on their uniform for Sean’s mom.

It wasn’t her initials. That would have made her furious.

“No one person is above a team Sean,” she yelled the day he skipped practice because he didn’t feel well.

He ran bleachers, not for the coach, not for his dad (who was the assistant coach).

But for his mother, who taught him better.

As for those patches, each one of them had one word on them.

Mom.

Happy Mothers Day.

“In life you have 2 options. Either you can live in a world others have created for you. Or you can create the world that others live in,” Jeff told his best friend Allister the other evening.

“Oh really,” Allister said with a plan to dis-ravel his well thought out plan.

“Don’t you understand the pressures of this world is so tough, the expectations that we all have on each other and on ourselves is so great that if we don’t hit the goals that we are given we are labeled a loser,” Jeff continued with a gleam in his eye.

“But don’t you agree that with reality handing everyone expectations of mediocrity that we allow ourselves to be trapped in a cube of our own making.  We don’t have winners or losers when growing up anymore. We don’t let kids have to earn anything. Everything is given to them, everyone gets to run the bases and nobody is ever out. That isn’t how the real world works Jeff.”

“Allister, you are a very cynical man,” Jeff said as he started to drink his Whisky and Coke, “continue.”

“We let everyone have a trophy, we let out kids have whatever they want, the television has 500 channels and there still isn’t anything on the damn thing. We’ve gone from being a society of producers, proud of the things that would last, to a society of locusts, producing what we need to survive that moment. We’ve transformed from a country of deep thinkers to barely thinkers.”

“So, what’s the solution?”

“An EMP, remove technology and we force our kids to talk to us,” Allister said with with a smile on his face.

“Like that’s going to happen.  If we create the world that OTHERS live in, we make the choices. If you don’t like handing out trophies to the kids who couldn’t tie their shoes without a diagram and a YOUTUBE video, then don’t,” Jeff said starting to pace around the room.

“What about the pinheads that force us to live in their world? You can’t tell me that your boss Dawn lives in a perfect world. She barely gets out of bed on time and smells like cheese,” Allister countered.

“It’s a matter of mind over matter. I don’t mind because she doesn’t matter.  I live in a world where if I want to sit with others drinking, carousing and causing trouble and having fun, I can. If, however, I want to spend my time at the bar eating my steak while the world carries on without me I can,” Jeff said as he puts his weathered hands on Allister’s shoulder.

“But others force their ideas upon you.”

“Only if they let me Allister. There are some days that I just go, grab some food and watch people. I’m not forcing my world upon anyone, I let them come into my bubble only if I want them to.”

“Sounds completely looney to me Jeff.”

“Look Allister, my world is filled with continents, water, land, arguing alliances and countries just like yours.  My world has blue skies and gray days, baseball, popcorn, and Cracker Jack,” Jeff started when Allister interrupted him with “as does mine.”

“But my world, I look toward to not the cleaning of the ball park afterwords, I don’t look to the parking and the traffic.”

“You look toward the game,” Allister says quietly.

“And it doesn’t matter if I am a Lord or a peasant, all that matters is that I experience everything that is around me, taking in each sunset, each sound, everything that is around me, trying not to miss a moment.  For if I miss that magic moment, it will never be there ever again. It was never about the game, it was never about the party, it was never about those moments that everyone holds so dear to them.  It was the look on your face when you first met your wife.  It was the look on your face when she came down the aisle at your wedding. It was even the sadness when you lost your son.  The moments that we have can either be hidden or shared, rejoiced or cursed,” Jeff said as he saw a solitary tear come down Allister’s right cheek which was immediately brushed and cleaned away.

“In life you have 2 options. Either you can live in a world others have created for you. Or you can create the world that others live in. Which do you choose Allister?”

“I choose to have another drink.”

Which do you choose?