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Reckless Abandon: Idiots
An intentionally arranged series of words
by Zachary Elmblad
ZachElmblad.COM
Reckless Abandon is a collection of short stories
pertaining to the characters, events, and backstory of the
upcoming book, Borderline Vagabond.
These stories are written for the vagabond in us all.
Indulge it every once in a while; be safe, be smart, be
alive, and have fun out there.
Screw plagiarism, and FUCK censorship.
Copyright 2011 by The New Scum Productions
Kalamazoo, MI TheNewScum.ORG
Also by Zach Elmblad:
Borderline Vagabond - Coming 2012
Whatever Happens Happens
A New Way HomeA Puzzle of Squares
http://www.zachelmblad.com/http://www.thenewscum.org/http://www.thenewscum.org/borderlinevagabond.htmhttp://www.thenewscum.org/whateverhappenshappens.htmhttp://www.thenewscum.org/anewwayhome.htmhttp://www.thenewscum.org/apuzzleofsquares.htmhttp://www.thenewscum.org/http://www.thenewscum.org/borderlinevagabond.htmhttp://www.thenewscum.org/whateverhappenshappens.htmhttp://www.thenewscum.org/anewwayhome.htmhttp://www.thenewscum.org/apuzzleofsquares.htmhttp://www.zachelmblad.com/8/6/2019 Reckless Abandon: Idiots
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I was fighting the urge to spit right in this guy's
face. All I wanted to do was buy some booze, but it was
quickly becoming a memorable and miserable struggle. AsI popped two thirty-racks of High Life on the counter; I
asked politely for a fifth of Svedka, a fifth of Jagermeister,
and a fifth of Jose Cuervo. You see, the Jager is for coffee
in the morning, and shots after dinner. The Vodka is for
mixing with juices to drink throughout the day, and theCuervo is for drinking with other people. The beer is just
what you drink in between. Better than water, you know.
That's boring. Passe.
I had some drinking to do. The extended, days long,
kind of drinking. The kind of drinking you do to get
something off your mind, or in my case, to put something
there. I get in the habit of becoming a normal person, and
sometimes I have to get back in touch with the raving
lunatic that lurks in wait for my first guzzle of fermented
grain.
So there I am, hundred dollar bill in hand, and he
stands there like a lump of mayo that fell out of my lunch.
Another useless maladroit running the cash register of
another stupid liquor store in Northern Indiana. I wish I
could make alcohol magically appear in my hand. I hate
going to liquor stores. If it isn't the idiot drunks it's the
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idiot cashiers.
Let me see some I.D., he says, and I hand it over.
Here ya go, buddy.
This isn't you.
What?
It's not you. This guy has long hair.
I... um... cut... it? Isn't that allowed?
Got anything else with your name on it?
I gave him my two debit cards, three credit cards,
and and expired college ID from five years ago that I had
with me for some reason. If he wasn't convinced, I had my
social security card, my birth certificate, and my passport
with me in the car. Just in case the mood struck me to get
out of the country, you know. Best to always be prepared.
I guess you could say I'm still a Boy Scout at heart.
Will this do? Are you convinced?
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I can't break a hundred. He stared blankly forward,
avoiding eye contact.
Look, dude, you're not breaking a hundred. You'reTAKING a hundred. There's a difference. I'm not
buying something that costs ten dollars, I'm using a
denomination that is applicable to the cost of the
goods. You don't have to give me a bunch of
twenties, you know. Just a five, a one, a dime, andfour pennies. As a matter of fact- I reached into my
pocket and grabbed a penny. Here's a penny. One
five, a one, a dime, and a nickel. Easy. Not gonna
mess up your drawer at all.
He took the penny, looked at it, cocked his head to
the right, set it down, and said:
Hold on, I have to get my manager.
Rage. Fury. A deep breath, then patience.
Are you serious? I felt like I might have to beat it into
him.
Hey Crystal, this guy wants to break a hundred.
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We can't break a hundred, I heard a scratchy old
woman's voice bark from the partially open office door.
See? Can't break a hundred. He put up his arms in a
shrug.
I'm not asking you to BREAK a hundred, I'm asking
you to TAKE a hundred.
Can I take a hundred, Crystal?
For what? I could see her stare vapidly into a computer
monitor.
For this guy's liquor.
How much is it?
Almost a hundred bucks.
Yeah, we can take a hundred if the change isn't too
much.
See? I said, Cash for booze, dude, I'm not playing
games with you, I promise!
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Ok, sir. Six fourteen is your change.
But I gave you a... ah, nevermind. Have a goodnight, man, take it easy.
I gave up on the penny.
C'est la vie.
I left, but at least I left with my booze in tow. I was
getting ready to just walk away and hold out until I found
another liquor store. Couldn't stay too hung up on that
idiot, though, he wasn't even worth dedicating brain time
to. I was on a mission. It was a simple mission, but an
important one to me. I had two days to get to North
Carolina, come hell or high water. Seeing as how it's only
something like a twelve hour drive, two days was plenty of
time to find some mischief along the way.
After my difficulty dealing with the Northern Indiana
locals, I opted to find a place further East, a touch closer to
my destination, and as far away from Indiana as I could get
before I had a drink. Ohio isn't much of a better option, but
it's a marked improvement in comparison to Indiana.
There's a reason Indiana is the crossroads of America, you
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know. Nobody every wants to do anything but get the hell
out of there. I simply followed suit. I traveled the I-90
turnpike, like I have a hundred times before. It seems like
I've driven the Ohio turnpike more than I've driven anyother stretch of highway. When you're coming from
Northern Indiana, and you're headed East, you can't really
avoid it unless you really go out of the way.
I cracked open the first of my beers parked at thesecond rest stop East of the state line. The first one sucks,
unless you're trying to score gross coffee and a Cinnabon,
otherwise you're boned. The bigger rest stops are for
people watching. After that first one is a series of decked-
out rest stops, some of the finest in the Country. The food
court is open, like a mall, letting the light flood in as you
watch the employees and customers of a wide array of
recognizable fast food establishments. Each building is
only very slightly different from the last one you saw.
Drinking in public is painfully easy. All you have to
remember to do is switch containers. If you drink out of a
can of beer, everyone knows that you're the wandering
drunk of the day. You'll blow your cover that way. You'll
get kicked out in no time. Pour that same beer in a coffee
mug, and no one's the wiser. You can drink beer anywhere,
and I mean ANYWHERE, so long as it's in a coffee mug. No
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one will ever bother you. You just have to remember not to
spill, and not to get close enough for anyone to smell your
breath. That might blow your cover. There's nothing worse
than the eighteen year old girl running the cash register atMcDonald's saying, Wow, your breath smells like BEER!
at six in the morning, as all the adults eye you suspiciously
knowing that this is a rest stop on a major highway.
You have to stay low key. You have to stink. Eitherdon't shower, or wear a few sprays of strong cologne. No
one wants to be near a guy that stinks, whether it's like an
armpit, like patchouli, like an ashtray, or like expensive
department store cologne. They'll stay away from you.
That's what I wanted anyway. I learned my lessons with
people. I just watch them now, I don't bother trying to talk
to them. It just gets... weird.
It's not that I don't like people, I mean, I AM a person.
It's true. It just seems like everybody else pisses me off
until I know who they are. I don't really have anything
against them, I just don't like interacting with strangers in
a public context like that. I don't like to small talk. I'll talk
your ear off, but only if I know it's going to be worth my
time. I'll talk to anyone that doesn't start a conversation
with, did you see (insert any television show) last night?
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It sure is! Two dollars, just for a coffee! I
remember when it used to cost fifteen cents!
How much does a coffee cost? said the man in the
pastel blue suit.
What? said the woman in the pink sweater.
I said how much does a coffee cost?
The poor girl behind the register just stared, with her
mouth open a little, knowing what was coming. I smiled,
and I drank another sip of my beer as I glanced over at the
table a few rows down from me. There was a mother,
easily four hundred pounds, breast feeding an infant for all
to see and wish they hadn't.
Stop pulling your sister's hair! She shrieked at the
blond haired boy.
She won't stop touching me! he moaned.
Stop touching your brother or we aren't going to
the toy store!
NO! I WANNA GO TO THE TOY STOOOOORE! cried
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the boy.
Now she'd done it. The boy continued to howl, and I
pulled my iPod out of my pocket. Sweet distraction. Ilistened to Strapping Young Lad's self-titled record, very,
very loud. I watched the boy's mouth quiver and shake
along to the demonic sounds of Devin Townsend screaming
in my ears. The mother detached the infant, pulled her
meat flop back into her shirt, set the spawn down in thebaby carrier thing, and grabbed the boy by the wrist.
I imagined what she might be saying to him.
Something to the effect ofstop screaming! I told you not
to behave like this, didn't I tell you not to behave like this?
Why are you being a bad boy? Why won't you do what
mommy says?
The boy wriggled and shook and flailed about like a
fish out of water, eventually knocking over mommy's
chocolate milkshake, which really got her upset. Upset
enough for the fatty to stand up before her meal was over,
no less. She picked him up out of his seat, sat down on a
seat at the adjacent table, put him over her knee, and
spanked him right there in the rest stop.
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I was trying to decide if people would think that was
child abuse, or just a due punishment from a lengthy span
of misbehavior we hadn't been privy to. Hard to say. Ihappened a glance to my left, catching the gaze of a girl
my age, similarly headphone laden. I reached my coffee
cup up toward her in a 'cheers' motion. She nodded and
smiled.
I looked at the condiment station, where a homely
looking girl with black hair was changing the garbage can.
I thought about how many times I had changed a
restaurant garbage can and wondered who was watching
me change the garbage, thinking about the guy changing
garbage at the restaurant. Weird things to think about
when you're people watching.
There was a well-dressed brown-haired woman that
looked to be about thirty waiting in line, patiently I might
add, behind the group of geriatrics. She kept nervously
checking the her phone, and I assumed it was because she
was running late to wherever it was she was going. I
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imagined it might be to catch a flight. She had a really
nice dress on. It looked like it might have been fitted for
her, instead of bought off of a rack. I wish I could afford
tailored suits, man. Then again, if I had that much money,I probably wouldn't spend it on expensive clothes when my
cheap clothes seem to work just fine. I would probably
spend it on booze. Then again, again, maybe I would be
rich enough to buy a tailored suit if I stopped drinking.
That, though, is pretty much impossible.
I decided I should get back on the road. Better not to
waste time, I figured. Even though that was kind of the
point of this whole exercise. Two days for a twelve hour
journey. Getting into North Carolina to visit my buddy
Hooper was the primary motivating factor in getting back
on the road, but I wanted the trip to be as fun as the
destination. If you've got to drive the entire expanse of the
state of Ohio, you'd better know how to entertain yourself.
Luckily, I can entertain myself for hours on end just by
remembering the past.
It's easy to regret the things you've done, but the
real challenge is using that knowledge to guide your
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decisions in the future. We all act like idiots from time to
time, but on this particular day the problem seemed to be
widespread and of staggering magnitude. Transgression is
forgivable, even repeatedly, but it must be said:
Human beings, In their natural habitat, sort of
disgust me.
For a sneak peak of Borderline Vagabond,
Borderline Vagabond: Sneak Preview!
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