20081222

A Six Sentence Beer with Bukowski

by Scot Young

It was three in the afternoon and we were the only two in the Frolic Room on Hollywood Boulevard. I sat two stools down from him and studied his face in the back bar mirror through the bottles of tequila and whiskey. He nodded toward the mirror, held up a High-Life, downed it in one Chianski gulp, slammed it down and said, "Another." I whispered to the bartender, who looked like every other actor waiting to be discovered, Tell him I'm a poet. Bukowski emptied another one, tapped it twice and went to the john; I leaned in to the bartender polishing wet rings on the bar: What'd he say? "He said, 'Who the hell ain't?'"

6S

Scot Young polishes wet rings on old bars and often has trouble with whole numbers.

7 comments:

Killerwit said...

Amen, brother.

Joe said...

Bukowski rules and so does this six. Great description!

Anonymous said...

Very refreshing. I was there.

Jeanette Cheezum

Ani Smith said...

I love Buk, so the title grabbed me right away. What a sweet little vignette, and quite clever. It was so rich, I was sure there were more than six sentences in it.

shootsandvines said...

Great stuff, Scot.

Scot said...

Thanks all--thanks crys

paul d brazill said...

Smashing!