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Turning 35 in Paducah, Ky. submitted 2013.10.26 04:14 AM by Willis viewed 2085 times


I.

I had an inebriated night in Paducah after catching a nice striped bass on my homemade lure. I took the fish on my third cast right from the dock. I impressed the hell out of myself and several others.

Who would of thought that cutting off a spoon handle with a hacksaw, putting the handle in a vise and twisting it with vice grips, then drilling a hole in each end and attaching a hook to it would catch a fish.

You cast it out and let it hit the bottom. Then reel it in, slow. Twitch the rod and let the lure fall. The fish hits on the fall.

I have lures in my tacklebox with a price tag of almost 9 dollars. I found the spoon on the ground while camping.

My catch impressed the hell out of the couple who own the monolithic catamaran beside Todd's boat. They are an older couple, nice and grandparently. His wealthy neighbors.

Me and Todd switched to nightcrawlers and Captain Morgan after the sun had collapsed behind the hills. We listened to shortwave radio. The fish weren't biting and we became bored so I started broadcasting mysterious maydays over the marine band transceiver. I started crying out that our boat was pissing out its ass. In truth it was. Some boats discharge occasionally out their backsides due to their cooling system.

Fishing is boring. When you can't show off your catch to your buddy it's boring. Fishing is bearable if you catch one every once and awhile. But we weren't catching anything. We finished a whole 5th of rum.

We were bored.

II.

Rum is good and sweet. It's like cake. It is good with a splash of coke and bright red cherries floating in the glass. Extra good with a young girl beside you. She opens up with every sip. Her lips bloom and grow fuller right there in front of you. Soft and red. They turn to sugercane and you become a child in the candy aisle throwing a damned fit.

I drank rum with teenage hippie girls a decade ago. They kissed each other in my kitchen and I kissed them both later. My tongue rolled from mouth to mouth. Later, when the party and the lights went down, I grabbed the tall hippy girl and lead her to my room.

People were fucking in my room so I took her into the backyard. I pushed the girl against the garden shed. 17 year old girl. Slightly taller than me. Flat chest. Flat belly and a fine ass. Slim and sexy.

I was ten years older than her. I slid my hand down her pants and two fingers went in. We kissed and I trolled my tongue on her neck and she whispered, We need to be alone. I worked my two fingers.

She was so hot that I would have laid this jailbait atop the backyard compost pile. I'm serious.

She wanted a room with a bed. We went back into the house. I hoped my bedroom was vacant. It was.

I've heard it said that the best sex is when you don't even have time to get your clothes off. There is an urgency that is absent after knowing somebody several years. It becomes routine like watching movies with formulaic stories at theaters. You know what to expect. The greasy popcorn and overpriced candy make it worthwhile. If you shell out enough money maybe she will go down on you after the kids are put to bed.

It's possible that even this won't save you though. It's possible that you may just end up both falling asleep feeling empty. So goes modern life.

There was an urgency with this little girl and I did not fall asleep empty.

III


Todd says all these girls just become all fucked out in the end. I agree.

It becomes mortgages and babies, he says. The long death, he says. We debate this at the Silver Bullet Bar in Paducah, Ky. We got bored not catching fish and decided to drive to Paducah and drink.

When I walked into the Silver Bullet and sat at the bar stool an old lizard woman with a golden mane snuck up behind me. She threw her aged arms around me and seductively told me that I would have to go through her to get to the night shift barkeep. She was working her magic the best way she knew how. It must of charmed some poor bastard out of his pants and emptied his wallet in the past. She staggered off.

Day laborers shuffled in. They ordered beers. Me and Todd talked about sailing boats around the world because it is the most sensible thing left to do. The day laborers pulled out pay stubs and compared wages. They decided it was total shit.

A jolly rotund brunette danced to jukebox rap. She pointed her index finger at me. She had been pointing that damned finger around all night. Sometimes at people, sometimes at the ceiling. Sometimes at herself when the jukebox had played something important.

She hopped over and rubbed my head, mumbled something and skipped over across the room to the jukebox. She was the star of the movie. She spun around and around showing what she thought we had all overlooked. She wobbled her fat around for some time. Then she went outside to smoke and disappeared with somebody.

Looking at her dance, I decided that I had become free and that I will now spend my remaining years hunting bar room bitches with saggy bellies that roll and jiggle and undulate to and fro and sway. I'll grab rotund blue-jeaned asses. I'll hunt sloshed BBW's with my lower abdominal harpoon. By damn, I'm Captain Ahab sailing the wide shoddy seas of Paducah, Ky. I'll get myself swallowed by a great boozy white whale. Be as snug as a bug in a rug between hamhock thighs. Whipped into a frenzy lost in her eternal tits and ass. The enormity of it all.

IV

I made it back from Paducah. It is twenty miles from Paducah to Todd's sailboat where we sleep. I sleep in the front of the boat because Todd wakes up early. Even when he's drank all night, he gets up early and stumbles around like a cripple. He makes noise and you want to kill him for it.

We had just celebrated my 35th birthday in Paducah. Point A to point B. There may be a whale of a bad time heading my way but fuck it. I pray to God that I just may one day wake up stupid. I've always worried about what was coming. As I get older I don't much care any longer.

There really is nothing left in these final days but to drink and fish. If the fish don't bite just try to hold a little power over the grave.

Remain free of the graveyard as long as you can.

Happy birthday to me.





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