Thursdays In The Valley – Chapter 21

“Hey, can I get a couple more taco’s over here?”

“What?”

“I want more taco’s . . . just a couple.”

Hell no, you are cut off. How many fucking taco’s can you eat anyway?”

“I didn’t hear nothing about a limit or anything, what’s the problem, I’m paying for them.”

“Dude, no, just finish what you got in front of you and then have another drink. This shit is ridiculous, I’m not gonna spend all night bringing you taco’s.”

“What the shit? It’s taco Tuesday and I’m hanging out drinking, eating taco’s. Isn’t that the whole idea?”

“To a degree, yes, but you are taking it way too far.”

“I’m fucking hungry over here . . .”

“You know what? I’m about two seconds away from throwing your ass outta here. You want that to happen? Keep it up.”

“Damn, forget it then. Never mind.”

“That’s what I thought. The girls should be here any minute now anyway, you don’t want to be all stuffing your face while you’re drooling at them anyway, do ya?”

“Fine, whatever man, just forget about it.”

“And by the looks of you, I think you can live without another taco.”

“Damn brother, no need to get all personal and shit, I said forget about it, I don’t want anymore . . . ok?”

“You need another drink?”

“No, not yet, I’m still good.”

The bartender looks at me, gestures a thumb . . .

“He’s still good he says. Should I eighty six his ass right now?”

“No man, let him be. He ain’t much but he’s good for a laugh or two. He’s harmless.”

“You vouch for him?”

“What?”

“Do you vouch for him?”

No, I’m not vouching for anybody, I’m just saying he’s alright, let him stay.”

“He’s a friend of yours?”

“A friend? I guess so. As much as he’s capable of being. . . and he drinks a lot too, that should make you happy.”

A moments hesitation . . .

“Alright, he can stay.”

The bartender walks away . . .

“I just wanted some taco’s. What’s up his ass?”

“Man, don’t ask questions that you might not want to know the answers to. Just let it go.”

“You haven’t had any yet, right?”

“Any taco’s?”

“Yeah, since you haven’t had any yet, maybe you could ask for some and then you could give them to me. I’ll pay for ‘em.”

“Dude, forget about the taco’s, you aren’t getting any. That’s it.”

“Alright, sorry, forget about it.”

“Forget about it.”

About ten minutes pass . . . I sip my drink . . .

“Hey, you know what would be really good right about now?”

“What?”

“Some frickin’ taaaccoooo’s!

“Holy shit, let it go man, let it go . . .”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. You want another drink?”

“Are you done talking about the fucking taco’s?”

“Yeah, I won’t mention them again. Not a word.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Well shit, get me a rum and coke, if you please.”

“For sure man, I got it.”

“Make sure it’s diet.”

“What?”

“Diet, I need a captain and diet coke.”

‘What’s with the diet shit?”

“I only drink diet soda, what’s the big deal?”

“Diet tastes like shit. How can you stand it?”

“Man, as much as I drink, I have to watch the calories . . . just the way it is.”

“Alright, if you say so, diet it shall be.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

It’s getting late . . . my immunity to the alcohol fails me tonight, I am definitely feeling something . . .

 

 

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