Gramps looked over at me from two seats down the bar. "I been workin' at the docks for fifty years this December. My dad worked the docks in the summer of 41, then came home to Arkansas for the winter and spring, helped get the crops into the ground."
Fooly sat next to me, mouth wrapped around fermented Ginsing exrtract soaked in vodka. I sat and stared at the illuminated walls, thinking of how I could get the East Bay Express to pay me to write about the woman who keeps dishing me out free drinks.
"I moved here and met a fella, had a 1957 Ford, and two wives. Told me he worked the docks, got anythign he wanted out of the containers. Wooooie, I said that's for me. They keep them containers locked now, though. They watch yo ass, keep an eye on ya so much I done forgot about that all together."
Hey, the mob does that shit, why not poor black folk?
"Thank you," he said, raising his glass to me. Fooly leaned over and smashed her glass into his, knocking me to the floor as she shouldered be out of the way.I'ts my birthday! Wish me a happy birthday won't you?
I stood and replaced my hat. Gramps smashed his own glass, bourbon and soda, into hers. They slumped onto each other's shoulders, he, more than twice her age. At the other end of the bar, the matron looked at her best friend, a suave Korean man in sunglasses and spiked hair.
Ms. Kim left him, then, and came to us. After a mish mosh of unintelligible half Korean half English, we had a nother round of drinks all over the bar. Gramps and the K-Gent were waving fistfulls of twenties, and Ms. Kimm was handing them back and reminding them they'd only bought one twenties worth.
I reclaimed a new seat, one closer to Gramps, one further from Fooly. Fooly shlumped over closer to me, and began a dialog with Gramps.
Fuck workin, I like drink!
Gramps slammed his own beverage into hers once more, though this time, I had my own, and as I leaned out of the way of their colliding glasses, I had my own to connect at the nexus above the bar.
It took six songs, but tina turner finally came on with "Proud Mary." Our evening was at an end. We waved good bye, then I walked Fooly home, keeping her arm tucked within mine so that she wasn't run over by a bus as she staggered home.
My thoughts turned to Edgar Allen thoreau, then.