Stories tagged alcohol

While She Works on Her Marriage, I Get Drunk

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At least Scotch leaves, he chases the eighteen year old variety the perfect age, so smooth, tasty, he admits, too readily

Bottle, man

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“Hey man,” this shadow shimmied up beside Brett heaving ether breath. Brett saw but he didn’t see him in the way you see movement in the corner of your vision, an annoyance, an eyelash in the eye. He didn’t want to turn to engage this man, he didn

Gansevoort Ridge

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Raymond Hunter killed a man in Mexico. It was long ago—before Commander Zero took up arms in Chiapas. Before the Shah had been run off the Peacock Throne. Before even the young Hearst heiress had been retired for good and all from the tabloids. And it t

The Saved Man

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I talked to the Saved Man in a bar in Khao Lak, Christmas Day 2004. Not that I cared that it was Christmas: I remember the date because of what happened the next day.

Lips that Touch Liquor: The French 75

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The French 751 1/2 ounces of cognac1 ounce of lemon juice1 teaspoon of sugar6 ounces of champagne For the rest of that night, everything Mickey looked at appeared to have a halo of music, something nearly visible that he could almost …

Trying to get drunk in Los Angeles

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Getting the beer was easy enough

Bookends of a Life: II

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The clacking ventilator reminds me of ice cubes rattling in your highball...


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To Charles Bukowski "I haven't shat or pissed in seven years," she tells him, negotiating each word around the Marlboro. Because he doesn't know what else to say, Isaiah asks, "Haven't you seen a …

Novel excerpt: "Home Cure"

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He picked up the bottle of gin, looked at it. "Not a lot left," he said. "There's enough," she replied. She took the bottle and lifted it to her lips. "Are you ready?" she asked. "For what?" "You'll see."


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“You look strangely familiar,” he said, taking a drink and swinging his leg over the horse, landing on the ground beside me ...

Game Night

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I play poker with these guys on Tuesdays. Most of them are parents; smoking, drinking, holding kids under arms, talking politics.


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The main problem in trying to fix its location was that the spectacle came and went. We walked toward it twice – and both times it disappeared after we had advanced no more than ten or fifteen yards. “Told you,” Glenn said. “Now you see it; now you don’t


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No, I’m not at the junior high bus stop. I’m at the dining room table with my parents.

A Litany of Bruises

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It’s no surprise when Mark comes home drunk, nor is it unexpected when he grabs me roughly by the arm and slaps my face because I didn’t have dinner waiting for him. The difference is that this night tears spring to my darkened eyes and slide down my swol

Game Night

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We’re all competitive and drunk.