Don't Forget to Write

Coping

I went to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of whiskey, and put the pizza, still a full pie, in the fridge. After a few more whiskeys my bottle was empty, so what else was I to do except walk down the steps and out into Manhattan. As I walked past the mailboxes I realized I hadn't gotten the mail at all these past few days - Bruno was usually the mail-bringer. He was also usually the one in charge of getting the bills paid, like heat and electricity and the internet. I wonder if he had done that before he left for Jersey? I assumed he probably did and walked out into the cold night in direction of the place that made sense in this confusing and heartbreaking time.

Karen was working behind the bar as usual. The place was packed but I was able to find a seat in the corner. "All alone today?" Karen asked as she wiped the bar down in front of me.

"Yeah, Bruno is away." I ordered a shot and a beer, and kept on ordering them for hours until the bar became less and less packed. The hordes turned into a crowd, the crowd into groups, the groups into couples and lone wolves, until it was just me and Karen. I was seeing double and talking slow.

"Pete, are you drunk? Like, drunk drunk? I mean, I've seen you drink, but I've never really seen you drunk."

I put up my index and thumb finger, nearly falling off my stool. "I am a wee bit drunk, yes."

"How's Camila?"

"Pfft what are you a psychic? Or shrink? Or whatever? Which one am I thinking of?"

"Peter."

"Karen?"

"What happened?"

"She got a job. She got a man. Colombia is her home."

She was quiet for a while before she said with a sigh, "you need some rest."

"Yes."

"Did you eat today?"

"Uhhhh... " rubbing my chin with my fingers to think about it. "No."

"My god, you are a mess without Bruno, aren't you?"

"Sometimes."

"Let's get you home, you can sleep at my place. It's only two blocks away from here."

I gave her a thumbs up. "Can I have a beer while I wait?"

"I don't think you need another beer."

"I don't need one, but I want one." I said. Where I had I heard that before? I was quoting something, a movie? A tv show? Oh, I remembered, my dad says that. She poured me a beer and I drank it, trying to fight back the loose memories of coming home to find piles of empty bottles and my dad stumbling around the house grumbling to himself about how terrible and unjust the world is. I remember trying to tell him to go to bed, but that never ended well. Usually ended in yelling, screaming, when I was younger it even ended in a few blind swings that gave me heavy bruises.

"You ready?" Karen said, coat in hand. We walked around the corner and up to her apartment.

Karen set me up on the couch with a pillow and a blanket. "You know, Pete, I think you're more of a mess than you let on."

"So's everybody else."

"Yes, but you especially. I can see if in your eyes. There's madness and chaos just behind the surface."

"It's all chaos, everywhere in everybody." I knew I wasn't making sense, but I was too drunk to make myself seem like less of an idiot.

"I'm just worried that you don't know how to keep yours under control."

I shrugged. My eyes were closed. "I think I'm doing a pretty good job of it," I lied.

She let out another sigh. "I'm going to bed, goodnight Petey."

"'Night Karen."