Life

Sometimes things happen late in life. I went back to school in my thirties, got a business degree.

I go to a bar called “Hobos” with the wife. We’re meeting her sister and my brother-in-law.

I drop my wife off at the door, go to park the car, sneak a cigarette. I see a college classmate half my age. He wants to talk, so I let him.

Inside the bar,   a surprise party for my graduation from college is in full swing! With all my friends and family. My five-year-old son is in the bar! My son, who is full of life.

“You can do whatever you want Dad,” he said, “it’s your party.”

It’s a celebration of my future. My wife rented out the whole bar.

Some girls walk in the bar looking for a bachelorette party.

“You got the wrong party,” I said.

I schmooze with everyone, even my co-workers from the slaughterhouse are here. Hotel Rochelle with eyes too pretty for her face. Animal who came straight from the zoo. Nasty Nate with his nose on one side of his face.

“You have risen so high I can't be seen with you,” Nate said.

“That's not true,” I said.

He buys me my first ever Two-Hearted IPA.

Uncle Al’s here, the most powerful man in the County. Hardcore Harvey with his beard in his beer. Jackie and Dean-O. My family, mom, dad, brother, sisters.

My oldest sister tells me, “I saw Lisa Duggars, do you remember her? When I told her you went back to college, she said ‘That doesn't sound like something he’d do.’”

The TV’s on ESPN, showing an NFL game. The quarterback’s celebrating a winning touchdown.

“I can't stand that guy,” my brother said, “I used to like him until I found out he's a rapist.”

Now I’m chatting with my brother-in-law.

“The big interview is tomorrow,” I said. “I have a third interview for an office job tomorrow.”

“You're putting that degree to work,” he said. “I hope you get it.”

Then I see my father-in-law, who gave me his nicest daughter to marry.

I give a speech, “I want to thank my family and friends for their eternal support.”

Mom and dad are the first to leave.

“Can you believe how far we’ve come?” mom said.

“No, I can’t,” I said.

Mom gives me a kiss; Dad shakes my hand.

“Enjoy your life,” Dad said.

“I will,” I said.

Then the others leave one by one, my son goes home with my sister.

At long last it’s just me and my wife.

“My life companion!” I said, kissing her face.

We step outside.

“Snow is falling,” I said.

“No, it's not,” she said.

We looked at the sky together.

“Wait you’re right, it is snowing,” she said.

Then it really started coming down.

“There's no business like snow business,” I said.

I see people on the street in coats with upturned collars. I see a poster for a band called “Strange Virgins” stapled to a very experienced telephone pole with a gazillion staples.

“Look at that man,” I said, about a man walking by with his Airedale dog.

“You mean look at that dog,” she said.

I look into the window of the antique store, “Second Chance Antiques and Furniture: Where Life is Given Twice,” the sign said. They have old “Life” magazines in the window, from back when life was a magazine.

“Look a cuspidor!” I said.

“What?” my wife said.

“You know, a spittoon!”

“Oh,” she said.

“You don't sound excited. I need that spittoon.”

“Now you’re a college graduate you can’t spit on the ground like the rest of us?”

“Nope,” I said while watching uneducated men expectorate right in the street.

We go into a bar called “The Old Homestead Tavern.”

I see a man making improper advances and a woman with pink hair saying yes just to shut him up. I hear men using foul language, using the language of the gutter, words women never use, words sober men never use in front of women.

We sit by the window, nursing our drinks. I see a man outside without a coat. He’s doubled over? from the cold. Drunk men come staggering in from the streets stamping snow off their boots.

I see men looking at my wife, men who want what I have, men who want my life.

“Let’s try another bar,” I said.

So, we step outside.

I peer inside the window of the Village Baker, where every other year a German baker trades lives with an American baker like an exchange student. The German comes to America, the American goes to Germany, and they bake Bavarian pretzels to their hearts’ content.

I see people on the street with mittens and earmuffs and scarves. I hear a guy saying, “Do I look drunk to you?” and a woman saying, “Yes you do.” I see women going from one man to another, making the same mistake twice. I see young women, girls, going bar to bar, and being followed bar to bar, unbeknownst to them.

I ask a man for a cigarette, and he starts telling me his life story.

We go into a bar called “The Doghouse Saloon.”

I see people getting handsy with each other. I hear people talking about nothing that matters, people farting around with their lives, people who are unacquainted with real life.

I see a sign in the bar advertising an upcoming “Toughman Contest,” a bare-knuckle boxing tournament.

“I'd like to enter that,” I said.

“So now you’re a toughman?” my wife said, “is that what you’re going to do with our degree?” She laughs at me!

I see couples slowly getting drunk together. I see a man with a beard down to the floor, blowing smoke rings at me. I see girls dancing lustily.  I try so hard not to look, but all around me is life!

We go to a few more bars, having a sip at each one. Bars filled with men who see each other every day and say the same things, who drink until they see green snakes. Men too fond of their drink—too fond of their life! Christian men who change their religion while drinking. I can’t help but hear men talking loudly, with the voice of fifty men, and then those men getting kicked out for drunkenness.

Two pool players arguing, “Where’s your sportsmanship?” one said. The other one gives the finger in a friendly way.

I see women letting strange men see what only husbands should be permitted to see.

I see a girl I used to babysit—she’s now a woman! She’s a special education teacher with a husband and kids.

We reminisce. She said she and her parents are divorced—they don’t talk. Her brother did too many drugs and is nowa vegetable.

“Life marches on,” she said.

I overhear someone at the bar saying the name Jack Kevorkian, then someone responded, “You mean Doctor Death.” I see a hefty lady with shoulders. I can hear a man telling girls, “If I knew the way I would take you home.” I can hear a girl at the bar telling him, “Get a life!” I see a saucy, drunken group of women. I see a girl surrounded by boys acting like dogs many clever boys scheming against one gullible girl.

I see women listening politely to men, but still telling them, “No way in hell.” Men telling jokes about Mexicans, some of them funny. Men making men laugh using the words “spic” and “wet back,” here I am at the bad end of their jokes. Men who win with women because they don't take no for an answer, men who put their foot in the door so women can't close the door. Men who go on two to three benders a year. I see a high school classmate who says, “Boy you could kick, I remember you could kick the football so far.” We look at each other like there’s nothing to life but sitting in this bar.

Now come the girls at risk for makeup poisoning, girls ripe for makeup poisoning. Girls fooling men with makeup. Men fooling the same girls with alcohol. There’s too much fooling in this world! Men giving women the business without shame. Men trying to drink up the city. A man comes into the bar covered in snow, head to foot—he's laughing!

I see snow-headed men holding up their hands for a taxi, beside snow-headed women in all shapes and sizes.

“Good eggs and bad eggs,” I said.

“Who cares?” my wife said giving me an injured look.

Men and woman talking and drinking, drinking each other's words. Men with yesterday's beer on their breath. Then comes a high-hat crowd into the bar. I hear a drunk slur, “He gay me too much beer, why he gay me so much beer?” I watch binge drinkers, and binge bartenders.

I see women who do nothing but hinder men from reading philosophy.

I see boys in the street throwing snowballs.

I see girls innocent as lambs holding hands with evil boys, who are making plans to have rough sex.

I see an ugly man with a pretty girl, who thought they were going out for dinner, but now there's no sign of dinner. I see women who run into ex-husbands. Men and women playing cat and mouse. Married men meeting their future wives at the bar. Men who spend everyday drinking—men who will never give up this life.

Men with lottery luck, playing the one-armed bandit, or dicing their way to a better life. Life is always a gamble.

Men with lady luck, women in dark cars lifting their tops for them, or women who go around naked under their coats just for them.

I see lovers having spats on the sidewalk, studs on the sidewalk grabbing ladies from behind, studs with devil-may-care grins. I see shy guys smoking a cigarette to settle their nerves. I see people seeing someone they haven't thought about in ages. I see men who live in bars, living the life of a bar fly. Men who make mistakes with their life. A man nods at my wife.

“This bar is filled with men who want to kiss you,” I said.

I hear one drunk man at the bar, “Give me a woman, beer, and stuff, until I say I've had enough!” A man next to me at the bar, pays one hundred dollars for a glass of wine. “Keep the change,” he said, “I know other people have to live.”

I see a good-looking lady talking loudly to the bartender showing off her white teeth, she’s half-naked. I'm not leaving my wife, but if I was it would be for this lady with white teeth—then I see it's my wife! My wife is the lady with white teeth! Then she comes to me, kisses me, what a kiss she gives me! This is the life, isn't it?

We go outside, now the whole world’s white as snow, white sidewalks, white rooftops.

“We’re in the land of milk and honey,” I said.

Cakes of snow on everything, on the cars, on the Buster Keaton statue. I see people reading used plots in the used bookstore, I see people eating all night at the All-Nite. I see the Mt. Zion Church of God sign. “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” it reads. I see men shoveling sidewalks, throwing salt over their shoulders. I see teenagers sliding down an icy patch on their behinds.

“This is straight out of a snow globe,” my wife said.

“Life is singing to us like a bird,” I said.

The next day, I go for my interview, I’m wearing a suit and tie.

“How do I look?” I asked my son.

“Like a manager,” he said.

I walk into the interview like a soldier confident of victory, my heart throbbing, my temples throbbing. They ask about my past, my crimes, my convictions, but they did it so cleverly!

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” the lady interviewing me said.

“No,” I said.

“Nothing at all?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Nothing about your past? We’ve discovered some things in your past,” she said.

And they won’t hire me! They can’t hire me! My top lip begins quivering. I start crying, bawling, and shaking. I’m trying to explain my past, but I botch it. I stop and start over, stop and start over. The lady brings me Kleenex. She apologizes! I leave but I can’t find my way out.

“How do I get out of this maze?” I said to a stranger who offers no help.

Next, I go to see my dad.

“The job interview was a spectacle,” I said, “meant to break my heart.”

“Did you expect a fairy tale?” Dad said. “Should you just give up?”

“The truth is I have lived a life,” I said. “I was wild, I’ve done things to myself and other people.”

“There are others in this life who are far worse off than you,” Dad said.

Then I go home to my wife. I tell her what happened. We cry bitterly.

“I told you---you should have gone to school!” I said. “Not me, we should have sent you instead of me.”

“You’re going to make me mad,” she said.

“You’re going to make me mad,” I said.

We fight; we yell. We weep; we cannot restrain our tears. Our son catches us crying; we’re crying into our hands. Look at the three of us now in our tiny cell!

My son knows everything! He tells us to stop crying, he orders us, “Stop right now!” he said. So that’s what we did.