The other night while stopping into 7-11 to use the restroom, I just beat a strung out dude with a needle in his hand heading into what Archie Bunker so succinctly referred to as the "turlet," while singing a very off-key version of The Commodores "Brick House," that staple of all weddings. My companions never made it to the bathroom which was in full use after Mr. Brick House, the only sounds coming out of the door being a strange groaning. I bought some aspirin and hangover chasers (made in Detroit, folks! where optimism over bodily destruction and the ability to do something about it reign supreme) to prepare for the morning after what might be a night of heavy Christmas partying. I went to the counter where my sister was buying a National Enquirer which back in the day used to be reserved for tales of the bat boys and Gene Dixon predictions about the future which in those long ago years was the early nineties as distant as the moon, but now is reserved for the crassest of celebrity gossip, focusing on super scary pictures of cellulite (a favorite for us civilians no doubt) and other prurient tales. This one featured Chasity Bono, daughter of Sonny and Cher. Bulked Up By Thirty Pounds! screamed the headline.
"I think she gained all that weight because she hates herself being gay and all, but she can't do nothing about it," said the cashier, a real porker himself. I wanted to ask if that's how he had gained his weight, but kept silent. "And her mother has really gone overboard with the plastic surgery," he continued. "Women got to age naturally." Hangover chasers, National Enquirer, and a solid dose of philosophy, plus a Commodores serenade -- Damn, I had hit the jackpot. The night was still young and the weather mild, the way of a Texas winter. I thought back to watching the Sonny and Cher show when I was a little girl and how they used to bring Chasity out at the end of the night, a tiny little baby with her whole life in front of her. Nothing bad had happened; her father had not skied into a tree and her mother had not become tabloid fodder. Her personal life didn't warrant the opinions of homophobic 7-11 clerks, and I could still hear "Brick House" and not instantly recoil at the thought of another drunken wedding party where no matter what you did the night before to prevent it, there would be consequences.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Don't take your toys inside just because it's raining." Cher
Drinking memoir suggestion: Floor Sample Julia Cameron
Benedictions and Maledictions