Message in a Bottle

The sweet stenches of bourbon, whiskey, and vodka dance in the murky air while my tongue has its way with the chilling walls of my virgin shot glass. Slamming down that piece of glass on the bars slippery surface, I hover myself over towards Benny the bartender and point towards an awkward couple across from us. 

“You see that uh-big breasted blondie over there sitting with mirror on legs,”

“Yeah Marty…,”

“No wonder the golf ball on roids had to hire an escort service for some pathetic date,”

“You really think she's being paid to be here?”

“No but I hope she is, now don’t take offence to this Benny but even you know this place is a dump, there piss in every corner, not quite first date material if you ask me.”

Placing the welcoming entrance to the dazzling green beer bottle I had saved in my belt onto my mouth, I swish around the warm bubbly substance around and between my teeth. Relieving myself of some built up gas, my belch hums in the air with the faint sound of rock radio. I punch Benny’s shoulder aiming to get him in on my new found bald enemy of the day. 

“C’mon golf ball on roids was hysterical! How come you're so quiet today Benny?”

“Man you have no volume control and they’re sitting three feet away from us, if that guy hears you I am not saving your ass it’s on you.”

“Ohh I am so scared of a bumpy bowling ball-like he would ever...!”

Right then I felt a rigidity in my pants, a tightness in my spine, and that warm bubbly taste at the neck of my tongue. My stomach churned as I watched a blurry Polish like figure approaching me in full glossiness.

“Listen man-I wasn’t gonna do this when I first heard you makin’ fun of me but goddamn! What do I gotta do to shut you the fuck up?”

“Hey man I don’t think you wanna do this in front of your lady-you got the wrong guy he did all the talking!” 

I point at Benny while squirming alongside the bar, the beer slips out of my hand as the giant marches forward. The crack of a whip knocks out my eye sight which had already been blurred. The glossy pink stain of my bloodied spit ran across the table beside, lethargic and taking a second hit, I feel a numbing, cool pressure against my body and black the curtains draw. 

Awakening to an aggressive sensation flooding into my lungs, I gasp only to fill my mouth with that same salty contents. Somehow my flailing body movements climb out of the subaquatic situation, and I open my eyes to a very unusual place. Expecting to smell the dustiness of the Toronto streets instead I smell a fruity essence and rather than jungle gyms constructed out of skyscrapers I see...trees? Or could they be cacti? Lunging towards the sandy land with sobriety swimming throughout my body, I hear some kind of sky creatures shriek, could it be? No-I begin to think about the dinosaurs I once loved as a child while crawling up the beyond natural nature of it all. The blur of my vision was definitely not hiding the highlighter cacti-tree things growing from the airy sand. Where was I? 

“Ah!”

A burning sensation covers my body, I look down and reveal red rashes coating my skin. At this point this was the only thing that seemed normal, I have very sensitive skin. I begin to look around in search for signs of life or a puddle perhaps, to wash this itch away. Stumbling upon an orange prehistoric looking boar, I hesitate to go forth, but something within its eyes was overwhelmingly hypnotizing. The bright stripes escaping from the centre of his pupil, a peaceful moment I want to cherish so much so that the thought of blinking is agony. And yet my lids come to a close as a freezing temperature washes over my body and I am transported into Bennys arms! 

“Benny?”

“HE’S AWAKE!”

Thud. He drops me instantaneously. 

“What the hell was that for”

“Listen man, I let a lot of things slide, way too many things slide. You’re gonna need to find a new bar Mart…”

“Can I get a bottle for the road?”

A bell rings as I push the door to the bar open, hearing the lock of it behind me as I continue to make myself a hazard elsewhere. 

“That was one crazy dream,” I think as I glug on my extra large cocktail.

I pull back the curtain triggering a glass piece to drop from the point of breakage. Awkwardly I melt myself through the window stepping on the soft pillows on a hard sofa. Rolling onto my turtle shell back I hear the empty bottle rolling in and clattering behind me. Shutting my eyes hoping to enjoy a good sleep I reopen them to complete darkness and heavy air. My body is arranged carefully, not how it was just moments ago. I attempt to get up and my poor injured head hits the top of a box. I bang at the wooden wall across from me and shallow thunks echo back. 

“Help!” 

My scream sounds empty as ever. A voice trapped in a box, muffled by the golden syrup that pumps throughout the blood and the body. A heated insulation accompanied by an aggressive exterior. The air is getting exceedingly hot and wet. The feeling of powerlessness overcomes my breath and the feeling of my last gasp leaks out as a balloon pricked by a sewing needle. 

Unfortunately I open my eyes again and in between the clumps of crust I see familiar faces with unwelcoming glares back. Assuming their never ending acceptance bounced back as an error. And trying to explain to them that alcohol gives me superpowers again-even if I mean it this time, probably won’t work. How could I ever convince them?