Went to a party/ I danced all night/ I drank sixteen beers/ And I started up a fight/ But now I am jaded/ You’re out of luck/ I’m rolling down the stairs/ Too drunk to fuck
–Dead Kennedys/Too Drunk To Fuck
Drink up baby, look at the stars/ I’ll kiss you again between the bars
–Elliott Smith/Between the Bars
Liquor stores.
I love them almost as much as I love shoe stores, and not just because they sell me boozes. Not that the alcohol isn’t a good enough reason already, but wait–there’s more!
There is something about a liquor store that reminds me of a book store. Maybe it’s the shelves, or maybe it’s just that so many writers are into the boozes. Or maybe I’m bent. Maybe?
It is also because I love the way the bottles look. Luckily I haven’t gotten into the habit of buying what’s in the cutest bottles. That seems like a road to Hell that wouldn’t even be paved with good intentions.
The most important reason that I love the liquor store is that it is the one place I can go where I will reliably have total strangers flirt with me. Unless there are no men present. If I ever come home from buying booze without a single hit, I am going to be a sad woman. It might just be an 85 year old joking about how the bottle of American Honey wants to go home with me because it knows an American honey when it sees one, but I find it very reassuring that SOMEONE still thinks I’m cute.
Why is it so important to have total strangers flirt with me?
Well.
It just is.
I’ll get back to you on that some other time.
And in case you’re wondering, it isn’t the same when they integrate booze into the grocery store. It isn’t special anymore then. Although, it is handy.
I just thought of something: what if they aren’t flirting with me because I’m cute? What if they are only flirting with me because of my excellent choice in booze? That can’t be it, can it?
Shit.
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