Beer Run #2

Oh, if my friends could see me now.

I run across the street into the beer distributorship. It’s so cold my eyes hurt.

Mark is on the register; unshaven but at least a different shirt. He glances up, then down, and does a sitcom-level double take. “Hey, it’s you! Doug out there?”

“Yea.”

“Wave him in, I’ll open the big door.”

I snag my RC as Doug pulls the car inside. They shake hands, I hand Mark “THE” paper list. He scans it, tilts his head as if to say, ‘Easy as pie.’ “Hey, Doug, you got any shit?”

Doug’s eyes widen, he scowls. “Not here, for Chrissakes.” It takes a second, but Mark catches on. He waves to me. “Come back here behind the register, that’s okay. Right here. If anyone pulls up outside, just yell, we’ll be back there–” he waves at pallets of beer (Returnables–no disposable plastic back then, doncha know).

OK…………Joe Cool here, sitting on the stool sippin’ my RC. Then what to my wondering eyes should appear but a copy of Playboy. Well, la- dee-da.

I place it tenderly on the counter beside the ashtray. There’s a very small cigarette butt-end in there–no filter. Hmmmm.

But my loins itch for the magazine. A random page. Blond girl with silver high heeled sandals and very lacy stockings. She is coy, looking back over her bare ass-cheeks. Next we have a brunette in a negligee that leaves nothing to the imagination. She is really pretty. The centerfold is a brown haired girl who looks like she’s from California–barefoot, pink toenails, leather vest undone. I’d never seen breasts so big and firm in my short sheltered life.

“Ahem.” Doug and Mark are in front of the register. Shit, how long was I here?

Doug smiles like he’s helping an old lady at the communion rail. “Enough drooling, get in the car and let Mark have his fucking porn back.”

Mark takes my place. “Gotta remember to hide that sucker…” he mutters. Head reeling, I climb in, almost forgetting to grab my RC. I hope I have good dreams tonight.

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