Good Morning and Welcome to Today’s Shivaree,
Do you remember when ‘Alice’ approached the ‘Cheshire Cat’ and explained she’d prefer not to go among mad people? I thought that interchange was by far the most poignant part of the story. The grinning feline had to break it to Alice that it was impossible because “We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” “How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice. “You must be,” said the Cat, otherwise you wouldn’t have come here.” I feel a little like Alice today in that I truly believe we’re all mad! Crazy as a Loon we are, tripping goofy with no escape.
I had the opportunity to visit Dewey’s since returning from my adventure in Florida and at first glance everything appeared to be normal, or at least as normal as it ever is. I ordered a glass of wine and proceeded to play trivia. A few minutes later Madcow popped up from behind the bar like a demented jack-in-the-box scaring the living shit out of me! “What the fuck are you doing behind the bar” I asked. “I’m looking for quarters” he replied. “There aren’t as many as you might think” he continued, bending back down to investigate something shinny. I noticed the usual cadre of managers was missing, no doubt having a cigarette facilitating Madcow’s treasure hunt. Given his self-medicated state I was surprised at his timing, leaving just seconds before management returned taking his usual seat at the east end of the bar fondling three newly found quarters.
This single incident was certainly bizarre but overall, nothing beyond a typical evening at ‘Curmudgeon Corner.’ Things settled in once more, and then as if scripted, ‘Frank the Shank’ made a rare appearance and grabbed a trivia box. For the two or three of you reading this chemically induced boner you may remember ‘The Shank.’ Nearly two years ago while in the throes of a psychotic episode caused by the Denver Bronco’s melt-down to Peyton Manning’s Colts, he went after a young couple with a beer bottle broken jagged off the rail. Like a crazed dwarf, all 5-foot nothing of him ran after the couple fleeing for their lives! All they were guilty of is laughing at this little man screaming at the TV. Fortunately nobody was hurt, although the ‘shank’ was banned from coming in for a year. Sadly, in between questions and games, ‘Little Caesar’ would work his way down the bar asking patrons if they had found their ‘Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?’ When management asked him to stop and return to his stool, he snapped. He went off on Kyle screaming expletives futilely swinging at him like a little girl. He was immediately 86’d permanently banned.
“How much weirder could it get” I wondered, but ordered another glass of wine. Cush was on vacation so he couldn’t possibly make a scene. Just then Dv’ant hobbled through the door making his way to the “Corner.” Generally Dv’ant doesn’t cause much trouble other than tear off a bathroom door from time to time, but who of us hasn’t gone down that road? I had just beaten him for the third straight game when he began to fidget with his shirt trying to tuck it in while sitting. The big man finally gave up and unbuttoned the bottom two buttons letting the shirt fall open exposing his considerable belly. “Check please!” I yelled, knowing full well things were about to get worse. But before I could close my tab, Dv’ant had managed to pull out a candy bar wrapper, pocket knife, half-eaten slice of pizza, and about a ¼ pound of lint from his navel!
As I was driving home I couldn’t help but wonder if indeed we weren’t all mad. Then I remembered the ‘Cheshire Cat’s’ admonition; “You must be, otherwise you wouldn’t have come here.”