Drinking And Staying Up For 3 Days At A Time...
What happened to Wednesday?
Here's A Song that I managed to put together; I like this kind of music...This should be underlined, so that one would know to click on it; but whatever; I will flesh out the song in the future..
I remember Monday morning.
I had stayed up all of Sunday night, so that I could take all my laundry in to the VA, which I did, without having slept. But I put my head down on a table there, while waiting for the line for the showers to evaporate.
Why some guys choose to stand in line at 8 a.m. inside the shower room, behind 7 other guys, while the 4 guys who were there first (because they camped out in front of the place) are in the shower, waiting for the queue to decrement as they come out; is beyond me. Maybe they think that the hot water is going to run out.
I figure that they are just social creatures who loved their days in the service, taking showers with 60 other men, secure in their manhood, making the same hackneyed jokes (you been in there an awful long time, hope I'm not goin' to slip on anything and fall, hee hee) and snapping each other with towels...and skeezing each other: "Let me get some of that shave cream, if you don't mind..."
But the subject of this post is....
I remember Monday; my laundry came out clean; I got out of the shower, after waiting until everyone had evacuated the room because there was nobody left there to snap with wet towels and skeeze; and changed into clean clothes.
Then I headed straight for Rouses Market because it was after 3 p.m., the time when "Miss T" comes on duty; who owed me 20 bucks.
The money was handed over, giving me a total of about 20 dollars.
I had not slept the whole night, except for having put my head down on the table at the VA (which is allowed; laying prone is not -so, there again my training came in handy; that training being the period in 2nd and 3rd grades at the Catholic school where we were allowed to put our heads "down" and take a nap, right there at our desks which we normally sat bolt upright at, with our feet on the floor. The premise was that we needed a nap each afternoon because we were growing).
The cynic would offer that they were keeping us in school from 7 a.m. until 3 p.m. to condition us for the day when we might just be required to sit for those hours with our feet on the floor, both literally and figuratively as part of the workforce.
Then, somebody would counter that we were in a college preparatory environment and that we would ultimately be in a supervisory position as stewards over regiments of 'feet on the floor, bolt upright" workers, who were doing their part and sacrificing for the nation, under us.
But, I took my nap with my head down (after having placed a leg of my chair within the loops of my backpack and my guitar, case and then sat back down) and was out and busking that night.
30 Dollar Monday
I made about 30 bucks.
A highlight was a group of 3 who came along; and it was really 2 groups.
As I started to play my original song "Hubert's Trip," on of the group separated himself and sat on Lilly's stoop.
Everything is vague after that, but I believe I threw in a harmonica solo, directed at the couple who were in front of me and then, stopped at one point, saying "Darn, one of my holes is plugged up already, I just bought this thing!"
At which point the young woman said something complementary like "You did good," and they threw money. The guy added: "She really enjoyed the harmonica."
Then, they walked off, leaving the guy sitting on the stoop. We struck up a conversation, during which I learned that he worked in some kind of capacity helping "at risk" kids.
He seemed to appreciate my candor in telling him about my current living arrangements, and the fact that one of my biggest problems was the fact that a black-capped night heron seemed to like to shit on my hat and my guitar case while I slept.
I noticed a 20 dollar bill in between the sharks and grabbed it, saying "I better take this out of view before some skeezer comes along and acts like he is going to add money to my meager pile; and then scoops it up and runs; like a coward."
"Oh, that's from me, and I wouldn't let anyone take it," said the guy who worked with at risk kids, and who I then noticed was kind of built like a football player. A 41 year old ex-football player, I learned; but still more than a match for skeezers who only work out their right hand, by holding it out to tourists all night (and then maybe in the VA Center shower).
New Pet
I now have an alligator of about 5 feet long as a new pet.
I think it may be after the Blacked Capped Night Heron. It seems to have posted itself up right by the spot where the heron stands at the rivers edge.
I now have the company of about 30 rats, 30 mice, one turtle, a few spiders, who have finally figured out where to put their webs so that I won't bust them in the normal coarse of my activities, nor will the heron, who basically takes the same route, jumping and half flapping from the same rocks to the same next rocks each time; and that very same bird.
Blackout
Wednesday, I must have made some money because I had a new pack of cigarettes and the same amount of money the next morning.
I may have slept for 2 days, because I had been afflicted with an upper respiratory thing, which came on gradually after I moved from my last juice fast to suspect foods, rather too quickly.
I would wake up short of breath and no matter how hard and fast I breathed (and I gleaned a whole new meaning to the term "labored breathing") I felt short of breath, like I was drowning; but then I would cough my brains out, afraid that they could hear me on the Natchez, even though I buried my face in a sweatshirt or something, and I couldn't cough anything up, and I saw stars.
But, I could still sing when I got out there, just not as loud, but loud enough to make pretty good money, I guess. I can't remember.
At least I saved money on cigarettes, because I couldn't take even the smallest puff without going into a fit of coughing.
I can't remember Wednesday; and now it is Thursday. I made some money tonight, but I can't remember how much; except that it was all 1 dollar bills; maybe 9 of them.....
Each time that I have quit drinking in the past few months, but then gone back to it; it has taken less time for me to sink to the lowest depths; and I have sunk further, actually.
It is Friday morning 5 a.m., and I have only spotty memories of the past few days.
I had better get under the dock; frighten the hell out of the alligator, which will jump into the river at the sight of me; and maybe have something with me to attract mice, like crackers or peanuts, so that the heron can eat a mouse and get it over with, leaving myself and the turtle and spiders in peace.
What happened to Wednesday?
Here's A Song that I managed to put together; I like this kind of music...This should be underlined, so that one would know to click on it; but whatever; I will flesh out the song in the future..
I remember Monday morning.
I had stayed up all of Sunday night, so that I could take all my laundry in to the VA, which I did, without having slept. But I put my head down on a table there, while waiting for the line for the showers to evaporate.
Why some guys choose to stand in line at 8 a.m. inside the shower room, behind 7 other guys, while the 4 guys who were there first (because they camped out in front of the place) are in the shower, waiting for the queue to decrement as they come out; is beyond me. Maybe they think that the hot water is going to run out.
I figure that they are just social creatures who loved their days in the service, taking showers with 60 other men, secure in their manhood, making the same hackneyed jokes (you been in there an awful long time, hope I'm not goin' to slip on anything and fall, hee hee) and snapping each other with towels...and skeezing each other: "Let me get some of that shave cream, if you don't mind..."
But the subject of this post is....
I remember Monday; my laundry came out clean; I got out of the shower, after waiting until everyone had evacuated the room because there was nobody left there to snap with wet towels and skeeze; and changed into clean clothes.
Then I headed straight for Rouses Market because it was after 3 p.m., the time when "Miss T" comes on duty; who owed me 20 bucks.
The money was handed over, giving me a total of about 20 dollars.
I had not slept the whole night, except for having put my head down on the table at the VA (which is allowed; laying prone is not -so, there again my training came in handy; that training being the period in 2nd and 3rd grades at the Catholic school where we were allowed to put our heads "down" and take a nap, right there at our desks which we normally sat bolt upright at, with our feet on the floor. The premise was that we needed a nap each afternoon because we were growing).
The cynic would offer that they were keeping us in school from 7 a.m. until 3 p.m. to condition us for the day when we might just be required to sit for those hours with our feet on the floor, both literally and figuratively as part of the workforce.
Then, somebody would counter that we were in a college preparatory environment and that we would ultimately be in a supervisory position as stewards over regiments of 'feet on the floor, bolt upright" workers, who were doing their part and sacrificing for the nation, under us.
But, I took my nap with my head down (after having placed a leg of my chair within the loops of my backpack and my guitar, case and then sat back down) and was out and busking that night.
30 Dollar Monday
I made about 30 bucks.
A highlight was a group of 3 who came along; and it was really 2 groups.
As I started to play my original song "Hubert's Trip," on of the group separated himself and sat on Lilly's stoop.
 |
| Another Pet Arrives |
At which point the young woman said something complementary like "You did good," and they threw money. The guy added: "She really enjoyed the harmonica."
Then, they walked off, leaving the guy sitting on the stoop. We struck up a conversation, during which I learned that he worked in some kind of capacity helping "at risk" kids.
He seemed to appreciate my candor in telling him about my current living arrangements, and the fact that one of my biggest problems was the fact that a black-capped night heron seemed to like to shit on my hat and my guitar case while I slept.
I noticed a 20 dollar bill in between the sharks and grabbed it, saying "I better take this out of view before some skeezer comes along and acts like he is going to add money to my meager pile; and then scoops it up and runs; like a coward."
"Oh, that's from me, and I wouldn't let anyone take it," said the guy who worked with at risk kids, and who I then noticed was kind of built like a football player. A 41 year old ex-football player, I learned; but still more than a match for skeezers who only work out their right hand, by holding it out to tourists all night (and then maybe in the VA Center shower).
New Pet
I now have an alligator of about 5 feet long as a new pet.
I think it may be after the Blacked Capped Night Heron. It seems to have posted itself up right by the spot where the heron stands at the rivers edge.
I now have the company of about 30 rats, 30 mice, one turtle, a few spiders, who have finally figured out where to put their webs so that I won't bust them in the normal coarse of my activities, nor will the heron, who basically takes the same route, jumping and half flapping from the same rocks to the same next rocks each time; and that very same bird.
Blackout
Wednesday, I must have made some money because I had a new pack of cigarettes and the same amount of money the next morning.
I may have slept for 2 days, because I had been afflicted with an upper respiratory thing, which came on gradually after I moved from my last juice fast to suspect foods, rather too quickly.
I would wake up short of breath and no matter how hard and fast I breathed (and I gleaned a whole new meaning to the term "labored breathing") I felt short of breath, like I was drowning; but then I would cough my brains out, afraid that they could hear me on the Natchez, even though I buried my face in a sweatshirt or something, and I couldn't cough anything up, and I saw stars.
But, I could still sing when I got out there, just not as loud, but loud enough to make pretty good money, I guess. I can't remember.
At least I saved money on cigarettes, because I couldn't take even the smallest puff without going into a fit of coughing.
I can't remember Wednesday; and now it is Thursday. I made some money tonight, but I can't remember how much; except that it was all 1 dollar bills; maybe 9 of them.....
Each time that I have quit drinking in the past few months, but then gone back to it; it has taken less time for me to sink to the lowest depths; and I have sunk further, actually.
It is Friday morning 5 a.m., and I have only spotty memories of the past few days.
I had better get under the dock; frighten the hell out of the alligator, which will jump into the river at the sight of me; and maybe have something with me to attract mice, like crackers or peanuts, so that the heron can eat a mouse and get it over with, leaving myself and the turtle and spiders in peace.
Read about the effects of alcohol and "neurotransmitter rebound" etc ... it's kind of interesting but basically, if you drink for a while, build up a habit, then quit, then build up a habit again, lather rinse repeat, it tends to be worse each time. And the twitching/shivers/DTs etc each time you quit.
ReplyDelete