New World Fairy Tales by Cassandra Parkin

Author:Cassandra Parkin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Salt Publishing Limited
Published: 2014-07-30T10:08:31+00:00

Pass that bottle, will ya? I notice you ain’t drinkin’ yours. Don’t worry on my account; I ain’t gonna lose it watching someone else drinking my booze. It may or may not surprise you to know I ain’t actually an alcoholic. I mean, sure, I’ve been drunk every time you’ve been down here, and the first time you found me I was so completely pissy-eyed I could hardly speak, but that ain’t because I got to be. I just really, really, really like to drink. Well, take a look around; living here, who wouldn’t? I’m what you might call a contextual drinker. Down here, I’ll drink every drop I find. But take me outta this particular context you happen to find me in, put me somewhere clean and decent, and I can leave the booze alone with the best of ’em. Although I admit my liver probably don’t know the difference.

There’s all kinds a drunk, you know. Down here we mostly enjoy the drinking-to-forget drunk; although drinking to stop the voices is popular too, with a certain discerning clientele. But in the world above the gutter, there’s thousands of ways to get acquainted with the bottom of the bottle. There’s the fun drunk, where the gang’s all together and the food’s just grand, and everybody’s so fuckin’ witty you can’t even believe it. There’s the summer-afternoon drunk — ah, that was one a my favourites, back in the day. Sitting with a couple a six-packs, watching the sky and the grass and the water, waking up just as the sun slips behind the hill. There’s the meaningful drunk, when halfway down the bottle, damn if that ain’t the secret of the universe, who knew that was it all this time . . . ? Only you can’t quite get the cap off the pen, so you have to let it go, and when you wake up the next morning all you can remember is how righteously good it felt to know how the world fits together. The sloppy drunk — sprawled all over your girl, begging her to marry you, so god-damn horny you want to do it right there on the bar stool; only the booze takes all the starch out of you, and she has to carry you upstairs and put you to bed in the spare room. The mean drunk, where you catch a glimpse of your reflection and try starting a fight with yourself. Right now, you and me are having an educational drunk — where one of you sits in respectful silence and gobbles up the pearls of wisdom cast before you. So many kinds, so many kinds . . . I gotta take a leak.

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