Turning Trenks

Pete had left the door to our place unlocked the night before last - luckily no one broke in. Pete says to me that I have the look of a true champion and that I shouldn’t be so critical all the time. I just scratched my arms and thought about the time that mother spilled whiskey on my homework. I told the teacher it was apple juice. The Mott’s kind.

I had just lost my job, and it didn’t help any now that Sandy was off the pill again. I wasn’t having a massive freak out or anything, I just wasn’t looking to make a child. I didn’t know what I was was looking for.

Pete, Sandy and I were supposed to head down to Coshocton that morning but I had overslept. Instead we just hung around German Village, eating schnitzel and teaching blind kids cigarette tricks.

As nighttime came, we drank thimble shots of gin and spoke with twisted tongues. We all had a good laugh remembering the time I was stranded outside of Tuscarawas - I had to sleep in the car that night and every 20 minutes or so I’d get up to retch on the curb. It was a real eye opener.