We'd moved to Richmond in 1987 to start our adult lives. Home and family were out of sight, out of mind. Me? I had a bit too much time on my hands and out of boredom I'd signed up for 6 months of lessons at a local Tae Kwon Do school. I'd quickly become immersed in the discipline. What I liked was that initially the instructors led you through each lesson, through each hour-long class. As your rank increased, they slackened their hold on your leash until you had no choice but to take over your own education or bow out.
When I started taking lessons, there were close to thirty people in my beginners' class. By the time I tested for my first degree four years later, I was the only one left. Somehow that felt wrong. Never in my whole life did I consider myself black belt material and I felt it was a waste for those other twenty-nine people to fall by the wayside while I strapped on a brand new black belt.
Yet I persevered and one day in the future I wrapped my first-degree belt proudly around my waist. At the time of this story, I was probably a green or purple belt, halfway through my journey. On this particular evening I had skipped out of class early and avoided the adult class at eight o'clock. I'd been working during the day as a graphic designer and taking classes just about every night. I needed a break.
I had no specific plan in mind but wanted to go downtown and shoot the breeze with my friend Wanda. She was working her way up the ladder at a downtown restaurant and was currently a bartender/waitress. So, my hope was that she would either be waiting tables or serving drinks at the bar, which would allow me to spend some time with her. All in all, an open-ended visit to go see her, where she might not even be working at all or she might be holding down the fort. Still, if she was there, it was enough time to hang out and watch her work.
Luckily, she was working the bar when I walked in around 7:30 p.m. She gave me a weary smile and welcomed me to the bar. I picked a stool to sit on, which wasn't difficult since I was the only one there. Suave and sophisticated that I was, I made my request. "I'd like a scotch, little darlin'."
I guess out of all the people in her life, I think she'd given up worrying about making me purr and had no trouble ruffling my feathers. In other words, I wasn't on her list of 'kiss-ups.' She had no intention of buttering me up for any reason.
"David..."
"Mmmm?"
"Fine." With that, she proceeded to one-by-one place bottles on the bar in front of me. My eyes opened wider when I realized what I'd gotten myself into. In front of me were twelve bottles of scotch and she was going to force me to make a choice. I suppose she was tired of making the choice for me or maybe tired of searching through the eighty bottles on the shelf for one bottle of scotch. Me, I'd place them all at the end on the right--you know, in an organized manner. Guess placement of liquor was a lot more complex than I'd thought.
I looked at her through the forest of bottles. She clunked down two handfuls of shot glasses and left it up to me on how to proceed.
There was no way out of it. "Really?" She crossed her arms, basically removing herself from the equation. "Thanks?"
"You're welcome."
"Has to be this way?"
"Yeap. I'm tired of picking for you. So, find your favorite. Choose."
"Oooh-kayyy. Thanks for thinking of me. Let's get to it. Are you joining me?"
"Please. I'm on the clock and will be until 10:00 tonight. Does that answer your question?"
"Guess not. Too bad. By the time I reach that last bottle I'll gonna be a little worse for wear."
"Maybe." she said, as she turned back to wash dirty glasses and left me to my devices.
I gave her the evil eye but she wasn't paying attention to me. My evil eye was nothing compared to her stink eye. I poured my first shot from the end bottle on the left. The first one always makes you choke but I slugged it down. A cough escaped me. "Kah! Mmm mmm grumble. God! Good stuff."
Second bottle. I poured the shot and tossed it down. A little smoother but still rough going down. I closed my eyes and compared my memory of each shot going down my throat. The second one, definitely the second bottle. I pushed the first bottle back and away, putting it in a discard pile.
"Two down, ten to go."
"Good for you. Don't wimp out now."
I rubbed my finger up and down my nose, giving it a good scratch.
"Wow. What would your mother think? I'm here looking out for you and you're being rude."
"Sorry. Had an itch."
I poured a shot from the third bottle, one from the fourth, and a half shot from the second. Quickly I downed the third shot. "Mmm mmm grumble." A little smoother going down but by now I'd forgotten the second shot altogether. I snatched up the fourth shot and downed it. "Kahhh! God! Rot gut!" I took a breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth. Then I swallowed the half shot from the second bottle. I knew the fourth bottle was made literally from toilet water, so I knew that was out. I closed my eyes and tried to compare the shots from the third bottle, then the second. "Mmmmm. Toughie. But the third one tops the second." She wasn't listening. I gently placed the second bottle, then the fourth, over on the discard pile.
"Amazing how much smoother the fourth shots goes down than the first."
She turned around. "Did you say something?" as she took the three bottles from the discard pile and put them back on the shelf.
"No, just baring my soul. Nothing important, in case you were worried."
"Okay. As long as it wasn't important. Have you got a method down?"
"Yes. I pour two shots and then half a shot of the most recent winner. Whichever one feels smoother I keep, then the other two head to the discard pile. Pure empirical science."
"Uh huh. We'll see how you feel when you reach the last bottle. By the time you get there, your tongue will be too numb to feel anything anyway."
"Could be, could be." With that I pulled bottles five and six toward me and pulled bottle three closer. I took three shot glasses, poured shots of five and six and half a shot of bottle three. Then I looked up to see if she was watching. Oh, she was. She used her finger to tap on her watch.
"Wow. Do you want me to drink them all at once or do I need to cut out breathing to speed things up? What? Is it 10:00 already?"
"Smartass. No-one takes this long to drink a shot."
"Again. Wow. I think I have enough bits and pieces in my trunk to make a beer bong. Want me to go get them so I can make a Scotch bong? You'll have to pour the shots for me."
She sighed. "I take it all back. Forget I said anything."
"That's good. I forgot it already." I followed this up by slugging down number five. Smooth as silk. That or my tongue was beginning to get numb. Eh. I slugged down shot number six. A growl slipped out of my mouth as I tried to disregard the taste of number six. Finally, I tossed the half a shot of number three.
