     s$
     $$     .d""b. .d""b.                  HOE E'ZINE #1029
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     $$  $$ $$  $$ $$ss$$                     "Old Crow"
     $$  $$ $$  $$ $$                          by Kreid
     $$  $$ $$  $$ $$  $$                      02/27/00
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     $$  $$ "TssT" "TssT"

        19-year old boy walks into liquor store.  must dig through dense
 highly-priced glass bottles in order to find sparse, low-priced, buried
 plastic bottles.

        a $16 handle of old crow (straight kentucky bourbon) is a diamond
 in this stinking bog of expensive booze.  to the counter.

        a woman.  "are you 21?" "yes."

        "can i see some I.D.?" "sure."

        "you look about 17 to me." "babyface.  here you go."

        "well, that's you there," she mumbled.  "utah?  i'm from maine."

        "1978?  then you must be 22." "no, i'm 21, i turn 22 in the fall."

        "this I.D. says you're 22."  it didn't.  "i'm telling you, i'm 21."

        "how did you get here, did you walk or something?" "i walked from
 mobil.  my friend is getting gas."

        "he didn't want to come in here, so he's not a bad boy?"  WHAT THE
 FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?  "he's getting gas right now."

        "you a student?" "yes, i go to hartwick."

        "hartwick boys are good boys usually."  i need a drink.  "i'm a
 good boy."

        "okay, that's $16.82, now don't misbehave!"  "i don't misbehave.
 here.  thanks."  i leave and walk back to mobil, joining my friends in
 their car as they pull out of the station.

        we head to the pharmacy and i carry out 4 six-packs of sierra
 nevada pale ale for chris.  it's his birthday.  i explain all of this to
 the cashier while i wait for the manager to come check on my out-of-state
 I.D.

        i apologize to the people behind me in line.  "every day i have to
 put up with this," i lie.

        back to my room to watch television.  they all get drunk.  i
 wallpaper part of my room with the pretty lime-green sierra nevada boxes.
 we watch three episodes of saturday night live.  this has to be chris's
 worst birthday ever.  he continues to supply his broke, pathetic friends
 with pot.  i make sure to compliment him on it.

        they leave for the bar at 11:00.  i can't afford to go to the bar
 tonight.  i can't afford other people.

        i can afford to drink old crow alone.  at least i can turn off the
 television now that i'm no longer "entertaining" people.

        i wake feeling like a million bucks.  also feeling depressed and
 alone.  my roommate is dying of hangover.  i bring him a pitcher of water
 and start drinking again.

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 [ (c) HOE E'ZINE -- http://www.hoe.nu      HOE #1029, BY KREID - 02/27/00 ]
