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The
Night Guy - A Series
Part 2 - The Dumbwaiter
Soon,
we had grabbed his jug and were sitting up on
the deck with me spitting and him smoking, stamping
our feet to keep warm and hoping to see shooting
stars. The rotgut was going quickly to my head and I made the mistake of wishing out loud
that I had a beer. Harry seemed surprised.
"So you don't like my Gumka?" he said, pretending to
sound hurt and flicking a cigar butt behind him onto
the roof.
"Gumka?"
"Yes
Gumka. That's what I'm callin this refined and aged mix we're drinking
of, well what the hell is it, I lose track. It's mostly gin I guess, but with rum and vodka mixed in.
And I do believe I detect a touch of that Jagermiester I spruced it up with a few weeks back."
"It taste's like lighter
fluid," I said, fighting down another sip. "If only the Quik Mart still sold beer at this hour.
I'm tellin you I'd run get a
quart of Coors or something."
"You drink that
piss? I'm
surprised at you Nate. Why support those communists? Nothing
but a bunch of union busting Rocky Mountain Krauts. What's wrong with
good ol' American Bud anyway?"
"Are you trying to tell me
that the Busch family is measurably more ethical and American
than the Coor's family?"
"You're goddamn right I
am. That's Adolph Coors at the helm you know. Where have you
heard that name before? Adolph? And besides, look at a
Bud can sometime and you'll see red, white, and blue. Coors
comes shrouded in yellow and khaki. Bud is as American as it
gets little buddy."
I scratched my head at this
latest outburst which came from a man who I happened to know
never paid his taxes or voted and had been kicked out of the
army for picketing the Vietnam war from inside Vietnam.
What
the hey, maybe I'll
take a look at the rest of this story.
I've got nothing
better to do...
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