FanStory.com - Some Call It Luck - Chapter 41by Jim Wile

I did it! I still could hardly believe I was able to set this thing up. Man, that felt good. I was going to kick his ass tomorrow! Ah, sweet revenge!

As I sat there savoring the moment, much to my surprise, a sudden pang of nerves hit the center of my core. What was this? Then I started having doubts. What if the yips return? What if I can’t get the ball in the hole? What if I end up looking the complete fool that Fairbanks thinks I am? These sudden thoughts had a devastating effect on me. I felt like vomiting. I gagged once or twice, but fortunately, nothing came up. I’ve got to turn this around!

I have always turned to alcohol in situations like this, and tonight would be no exception. But I did not feel like drinking alone; I needed to be around people to take my mind off these sudden fears. I decided to go down to Kelso’s bar.

It’s about eight blocks away, and I thought I’d better walk; I may not be in any condition to drive when I get done there later. As I made my way to Kelso’s Bar, I tried thinking of pleasant things, like winning at duplicate bridge with Abby, but thoughts of Jimmy Fairbanks laughing at me as I go down to defeat kept invading my mind.

With this terrible image planted in my brain, I entered Kelso’s Bar. Inside, the merriment was palpable. I threaded my way over to the bar through a group of men and women playing darts up front. I reached into my pocket, feeling for the Lucky 1 that I always kept there, and rolled it around in my hand, hoping this would give me some good karma.

The proprietor, Fred Kelso, was behind the bar tonight along with another bartender. Fred was a short, pudgy guy with a perennial smile and a completely bald head. He saw me sit down at the bar.

“E.J. Budrowski! Haven’t seen you in a dog’s age. How ya been?”

“Not bad, Kelse, not bad. Say, could you set me up with a double whiskey on the rocks and start a tab for me?”

“Sure thing.” He prepared my drink and set it in front of me on a little napkin. I downed it in four gulps while he watched me. “How ‘bout another while you’re right here, Kelse.”

“Ah, so it’s going to be one of those nights, huh?” He refilled my glass and put another tick mark on his sheet. “Gotta go wait on these folks down here,” he said, pointing down the bar. “Be back in a few.”

The booze definitely helped to lighten my mood some. I nursed this second one awhile, and during this time, Rafe and a couple other caddies came into Kelso’s. They saw me sitting at the bar and came right over.

“E.J! Good ta see ya here, man!” said Rafe as he clapped me on the shoulder. Thought you usually drank by y’self.”

“Yeah, you get a lot more bang for the buck that way, but I felt like some company tonight.”

“Well, we’s glad ta see ya here. Why‘nchu come on ova to a table an’ join us?”

“Thanks. Don’t mind if I do,” so I picked up my drink and followed the group to a table.

“Evenin’, E.J.,” said the other two, named Homer and Buddy, as we found a table and all sat down. A pretty young waitress came right over and took everyone’s drink order, including mine—another double whiskey.

“How you fellas doing?” I asked Homer and Buddy.

“Oh, we’re pretty good, E.J.,” said Buddy. “Don’t usually see you in here. Hey, Rafe told us you’re going back to school next year.”

I frowned over at Rafe, who looked sheepish. “Well, Buddy, as a matter of fact, I’m thinking about it.”

“So, you never finished high school?”

Rafe scowled and said, “He goin’ back to collitch, you dumb shit. Dats what I tole you… tho I warn’t suppose’ to,” he finished, lamely.

“That’s okay, E.J.,” put in Homer. “We won’t make fun a you…..….. Mister College Boy!” and they all laughed. I laughed along with them. Okay, the secret was out—might as well not sweat anyone finding out now.

“Where you gone go, da c’munety collitch?” asked Rafe.

“Don’t know yet. But if I apply at all it’ll be Penn State. Course, they’ve gotta accept me too. I don’t even know if they would.”

Soon the drinks came. The place was getting lively now, and after the third drink and then a fourth, I was settled down and feeling pretty good. I quit thinking any negative thoughts and just enjoyed the company. The good feelings increased as we continued drinking, and all of us loopers got pretty looped after a while. We started telling jokes. Rafe told a good one in his inimitable style:

“Guy goes to a psychyjeris…a psycholeris…y’ know—one a dem head-shrinkas. Da guy buck naked an’ wrapped in cellophane from head t’ toe. Head-shrinka say, ‘Ah c’n clearly see yaw nuts!’”

Everyone howled at that. “Okay, I got one for you,” I said.

“Fellow goes sailing by himself one day, and after a few hours, a big storm blows up. He gets blown for miles and ends up marooned all alone on a desert island. He spends about a year there living off fish and coconuts and shit, when one morning he wakes up to find a big cabin cruiser anchored 50 yards out.

’I’m saved!’ he says to himself as he swims out to the boat and climbs on board. Pretty soon a swimmer in a wetsuit and scuba gear comes aboard, pulls off the suit, and she’s a gorgeous blond with hair down to her shapely ass.

’You don’t know how good it feels to be rescued,’ he says. ‘I’ve been here by myself for a whole year after getting ship-wrecked.’

‘A whole year, huh?’ she says as she sidles up to him. ‘Is there anything you’d like?’

He thinks for a minute and says, ‘Gosh, I’d love a martini!’ She opens up the frig and pulls out a pitcher of martinis and pours him one.

’Is there anything else you’d like?’ she says as she puts her hand on his arm.

’Boy, I’d love some peanuts, too.’ She then opens up a cupboard and pulls out a jar of peanuts.

She starts running her finger up and down his arm and says, ‘You’ve been here a whole year all by yourself, right? Wouldn’t you like to play around?’

His jaw drops. ‘You mean you’ve got golf clubs, too?’”

They hooted and slapped their knees over that one.

The jokes and the drinks continued for another hour or so when it started getting late. I had an important golf match tomorrow and didn’t want to get too blitzed, or I’d be starting the day with a hangover. I got up, said my goodbyes to my friends, paid my tab at the bar, and left. I staggered home but was feeling good—no negative thoughts now. I got undressed, set the Lucky 1 on top of the footlocker, staggered to bed, and was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.