Blood. Blood on my hands, blood under my nails, blood in my hair. I haven't had a drink all day and I'm starting to get the shakes. My name is Dave Gorlomi, I own Styx Meats and I'm an alcoholic.
I've owned this little corner shop for years now, since way back when this neighborhood was, well, still a total shithole. I think this part of town exists outside of time; it's always been a shithole and it always will be. Anyways, I'm the butcher around here. People need cheap meat and that's what I'm able to give them. I buy a lot of low grade meat or cuts that sat around too long at the supermarket. Don't worry though, nobody dies from food poisoning around here, you usually get shot.
The place next door to me is an "antique store," haha. That place has been a whorehouse front for so long that it used to just be a furniture store. Next door to that there's a bar; they serve crappy, greasy food, there are some crappy, greasy women, and the beer is warm. That's all that this town really is, dead meat, live meat, and alcohol.
Across the way there's a little Jewish deli that doubles as a synagogue on weekends, and as though this town wasn't already about to blow, there's a mosque right across the street. Anyways, at the corner of Katz and Mercy is where everything usually goes down, at the apartment building. You can find anything you need there; girls, drugs, guns, it all depends on how lonely you really are.
There's some more to this town, but all I really know is the liquor store and the blur that happens after it. People come and people go but it's all the same; they all have the same stories and they all sound the same crying. There isn't a sky over this town, just an airtight dome that somebody decorated with a box of crayons, and every time someone takes a breath, the pressure inside increases; it's all ready to blow. The rain in this town wouldn't pass a piss test; the chimneys here would blow over the legal limit. This is the edge of the world and I am Dave the butcher.
For blog #2...
ReplyDeleteMaybe I'll go visit Dave and pick up some meat for dinner.
:)
It was freezing. I didn't care. I walked across Katz toward the Butcher's. I needed some meat.
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ReplyDeleteAbbie has a list of men in her life. Can she remember all the names? No. But does that really matter? No. But ever since she moved her she's always had her eye on Dave. Yes, Dave Gorlomi. The butcher. Not the most glamorous of all men but she's not worried about the quality of men anymore; just how many she can squeeze into one night. She especially likes Dave because she can always smell the booze on him when she walks into Styx Meats. It's like a "coming home" feeling. She likes to think that she could have him wrapped around her little finger. Like a boy toy. She hasn't had one in ages. She's seen the way he looks at her when she "happens" to carry her martini into Styx with her. She knows he can't resist the juice. So she has a plan. She plans to lure him in with her collection of Jack, Jim and José. And if he resists, well then she'll bring in the girls. Her loyal girls, the high class girls. And if that doesn't work, then she'll have to roll up her own stockings (which she has no problem doing what-so-ever. Actually she would probably prefer to do it that way.) But until then she watches him through the window peeking from Abbott's Dream Antiques in Styx Meats. She takes note of his peak times to take a swig. She knows that when he gets especially sweaty in the afternoons, with dried blood all over his hands and the lack of customers coming in, it's his prime time for a drink. And then it's time for a slow waltz into Styx with her own mix of rum and coke.
ReplyDeleteSo now I'm at this boring job. I don't even know why there is a laundry mat in this rundown town, since it seems like no one wears clean clothes anyway.
ReplyDeleteSitting hear, I decide to draw what I see outside the laundry mat window. I see Mr.Takuya walking this big rat looking thing, and begin to doodle. There is something not right about that guy. Who has a big rat as a pet. And why is he walking right now anyway. It is brick cold outside and raining.
Anyway...Mr.Takuya's image is gone, and now there is this dreary, depressing feeling outside. It is 12 noon and I begin to grow hungry. I know no one will come to wash clothes, so I decide to take my lunch, and instead of returning to work, I'll just go to the butcher shop, pick me up some of that crappy meat and call it a day.
I hate going into the butcher shop. Dave, that nasty son of a gun, always tries something with anything that walks....Especially when he is drunk. His shop doesn't even smell like meat. It smells like sex and alcohol.
UGHHHH...I guess I have to deal with it if I want to eat. Hopefully he is sober.
On my way to Styx Meat, I see this guy. I have never seen him before but for some reason he attracts me. Not because he is hot or anything, Probably because of how out of place he looks. He looks like he has no clue about his surroundings. He's just walking with his head low near D&D. He probably doesn't know what the store is, since he seems really interested. For some reason when I see him, my dad's letter pops into my mind. Maybe he knows him
I'll have to find out.
Altan almost got a sale out of a very drunk Dave Gorlomi, but Dave seemed to realize that the strong Turkish coffee would help to alleviate his intoxication, so he stumbled off in the other direction.
ReplyDelete"But Mr. Gorlomi! It's good for you!"
"No! I don't - coffee! You can't makemedrink!" Dave was quite inebriated and uncooperative, so Altan gave up - he disliked stubborn drunks anyway.