CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
2004- Take These Broken Wings
Jake dragged me to a generic Irish bar/restaurant located within sight of Penn Station. He elbowed past a couple who were heading out and snagged us a tall bar table right by the entrance.
The bar was packed with Long Island and New Jersey meatheads killing time before heading back to their version of prison- suburban hell. The sound system was blasting Take These Broken Wings by Mr. Mister. I hated myself for knowing that.
Jake leaned down and shouted in my ear, “Let’s do shots!” and started to move towards the bar.
I grabbed his suit jacket and shouted, “What train do you need to catch? You need to keep an eye on the time!”
He shrugged me off with a slightly unhinged sounding laugh and disappeared into the crowd.
And why did this motherfucker reappear ten minutes later carrying a tray with 4 pints of Guinness and two double shots of what appeared to be Bailey’s Irish Cream and whiskey???
He set the tray down with a flourish, like he was really doing something incredible.
“Irish car bombs, Jake?” I asked. “You’re bugging, homie!” I knew he could barely hear me, but I’m sure he caught the gist.
“I got 2 rounds, so we won’t have to battle it out back at the bar, at least for a few minutes!”
I tried to remind him that he had a train to catch, but once again, he waved me off.
3 rounds later and Jake was smashed. I hadn’t seen him this wasted since that time at our tenth-grade dance, when he’d projectile vomited directly onto Mimi Paisley’s decolletage.
“Okay, Jakey,” I tried to coax. “It’s 9:45pm- didn’t you say you had a train to catch, like 3 hours ago? You don’t wanna get in trouble with wifey boo, now do you?”
His response was an eloquent “Argggggh, fuck it!”
“Fuck it?” I asked.
“I’m already so late it doesn’t even matter. Fuck it! Let’s go somewhere else and get really fucked up!”
“I think we’re already fucked up,” I told him.
“Not yet!” he replied.
And then he looked deep into my eyes and asked, “Do you know where we could score some blow?”
Sadly, I did.
I knew exactly where we could score some blow- and score it safely.
