The Roy’s:Episode Seven
April 9th 2008
Episode Seven
(Regards to Trippster)
… well, Roy of course.
We already know the little strawberry blond haired girl had the uncanny knack of finding the riff-raff wherever it may lie. Well, her crowning achievement was meeting Roy number one, shortly before she was to depart the city for college.
We first ran into Roy promptly at sundown as we came back to my apartment from some excursion, somewhere, doing something. “The girl” was driving, rolling large in her 1985 LeBaron.
I had to throw that in there … many good times in that car.
Anyway, so as I’m getting out of the car, I hear this guy hollering at the top of his lungs. He’s about forty, and looks like Jim Morrison in his bad years, only dirtier. He’s screaming obscenities and smashing bottles all over the middle of the street. It was a big enough deal to leave me more than a little bit unnerved at this point. Some people had gathered, just curiously observing, while this scrawny little hippie dude from my building named Dan tried to calm him down. I have no idea what started the whole thing, all I saw was a huge drunk nasty looking bum, swearing, while a skin and bones, nasty looking flower child, tried to end the situation. Being the tough guy I am, we immediately went right over to where they were, walked quietly around, and got the hell out of there.
By the next morning I had completely forgotten about the whole thing. The girl had left to sing her moose melodies, and I was pretty much free that day. I don’t recall why I went outside that morning. I could have wandered down looking for the dork twins, or possibly I didn’t have a reason at all. I wish I would have, because as I walked out the front door I ran smack dab into the rotting face of the most intellectually gifted street bum a man will ever meet. Who promptly and firmly introduced himself as … Roy.
Thank the almighty Lord he was sober that morning. You will learn later that this is a good thing. Luckily, he was just out of cigarettes. An accomplished veteran of asking people for free stuff, he inquired about the availability of my cigarettes for his consumption. I gave him one - and he just started talking. Then he kept talking. I lit my smoke, and started to listen as he addressed quantum physics, brain surgery, complex mathematical equations, philosophy, world issues, and even rocket science. Here is this dirty street bum with summer teeth (sum ‘er there sum ain’t), reeking of stale liquor, just absolutely talking miles and miles over my head. It was absolutely unbelievable.
As it turned out, Roy had stayed the previous night at hippie Dan’s, and apparently was familiar with a few of the regulars in my building. He also had talked to “the girl” earlier in the day, who of course gave him the voice of approval, so Roy pretty much figured he was “in”. Truth be told, no one was going to tell him otherwise … regardless.
So, Roy just started hanging around.
And that was okay, unless, he was pounding down the liquor. Now, a man with an IQ of a zillion doesn’t become a street bum all by his self, so grain alcohol decided to step in and was more than happy to help Roy achieve his goals. This guy could drink. He would drink anything, and I mean anything. Cheap wine, beer, moonshine, and even Scope were on Roy’s drink list. He drank, and he drank a lot. Whenever he did, we just tried to stay away. He had a terrible side to him, one filled with belligerence, anger, and what must have been a terrible set of “what if’s”. Sometimes, he was just lost to the world. It was sad and it was scary. Mostly, it was just scary.
The girl left a few weeks later. I was completely devastated. Although we planned to remain in contact, she was six hours away, and she never gave me a for sure on anything. She was learning independence, and at her age; a man never gets in the way of that. I knew this, and I was sad. I would subsequently fall into a deep depression. My perfect little world was crumbling around me. I didn’t feel like working, I didn’t feel like living.
Being the tough guy you know I was, I decided to just quit working.
I don’t even think I ever formally quit my job, I think I just quit going. This in mind, I found myself with a large amount of free time on my hands. Since everyone else was working, I started spending my days with drunken Roy and hippie Dan. This would start some of the most surreal moments of my life. I wish I could have recorded some the conversations. It would blow your mind.
The funny thing about not working - is that you eventually run out of money. As my downward spiral continued, I too found myself barely scraping by. I would be behind on my rent shortly, my car would be re-possessed, and I was slowly running out of options. In the face of adversity, I decided to do like the natives. And when I did, I would find myself, with Roy, taking a trip to my first ever …
(Stay tuned for Episode Eight)
pack93z said:
Well, now it is a strawberry blonde tiny little moose.. lol.. tis amazing that some of the most intelligent folk are those that seem to lose their way in life.
Tripin where I wonder.. well done.
April 9th, 2008 at 4:54 pm #
Alcohol Posts » The Roy’s:Episode Seven said:
[…] Alex wrote a fantastic post today on “The Royâ
April 10th, 2008 at 5:15 am #