Pale Lager

“Ah it’s Oktoberfest again!” Tong said surveying the room as he sat.

“This place is a shit hole and it’s only six,” Jax pointed out. He threw a few napkins down on the bench and used his feet to wipe off the spilled beer.

“Bunch of drunk fucking retards. Get a load of these fools!” White said staring at a couple that could barely stand. Then the music started up again. “Oooo, the chicken song.”

White joined a myriad of dancers in a well-known sequence of limb movements. Being a new arrival he was the only one who knew exactly how and when to do the moves. Hands under his armpits, he flapped his arms to the accordion music. Tong and Jax could only stare in disbelief.

“That’s White for ya.” Tong said shaking his head.

“So what’s good here?”

“Beer.”

“Smart ass. Which should we get?”

“Let’s start with Spaten. Go over there and get a few.”

Jax went over to the booth to order beers, as Tong sat there watching White. He was jumping around like a monkey now. Tong’s eyebrows curled as he watched the girls walk away.

“Don’t know what the big deal is about this place.” Jax placed two overflowing oversized beers on the table. “We should have just gone to GB.”

“They’re doing Oktoberfest too.”

“What? Man, I just need a bar… a TV with the game on… and a few hot chicks wouldn’t hurt.”

“Like you’re going to do anything.”

“I’d do better than our DD over there.”

They watched as two girls started laughing at White as he acted out his fat bastard impersonation from the movie Austin Powers. His attempt to make them laugh worked, but it was more at him, then along with him. One of them grabbed the others hand to pry themselves out of the awkward situation. Impersonation is impressive when it’s out of the blue, but when the person is spot on with even the look, it hits too close to home.

“Yeah, well, here’s to a little bit of liquid courage.” Tong toasted.

“Bottom’s up?”

“If you want to start it off quick. It is just six.”

“Hell yeah. Only way these women are going to look any good.”

They chug their beer and slam the plastic pints down on the table. Jax then crushes it with his hands, exaggerating his strength. Up until a bit of beer squirts out into his eye.

“Hahaha. Smooth Romeo. I’ll get the second round.”

Jax looked around for his entertainment, White. He was over by the wall talking to another group of girls. They were all laughing. This time though, together. Jax stared, bewildered at the site.

“OK, let’s enjoy this round. These lagers are supposed to be the best of Germany. Brewed only for Oktoberfest. They started as dark lagers but now it seems the pale lagers are popular.” Tong was carefully analyzing the opaque pint of beer under the lights.

Jax turned around, grabbed his pint, and chugged.

“Whoa there!”

Jax slammed his empty pint down and belched a steamy mix of beer and dinner. “You get that from freakin Wikipedia or something.”

“Yeah dude, that site is uber.”

“You should add an entry in there.”

“For what?”

“For Pansy you fuck. Finish your beer!”

“Dude, you’re going down for that.”

“Oh yeah? Just for that, you better be done with that before I come back!”

Tong started drinking his beer. As soon as Jax left, he put his pint back down. He looked over to White to make sure he was doing fine. “Impressive,” Tong thought as watched White work his magic. Literally, he was doing magic tricks. Some sort of card trick was all Tong could make out.

“You’re going down for that,” Jax mocked. “Drink up then bitch!”
“What the hell dude!”

Tong looked at the four plastic pints of beer on the table. He motioned to the absurdity on the table while downing the rest of his beer. The beer made it down under watchful eyes.

Jax let out an evil laugh and sat down. He looked over at White. He was puzzled by what he was doing. As soon as White pulled out a card and the girls gasped, Jax turned back around to Tong, agitated and a bit apprehensive.

“You want to show me up? Drink then.” Jax commanded.

“Yo… what’s up with the hostility?”

“What? First you call my ass out and now you back down?”

“Pace my friend, pace.”

“Fuck pace! Made in New York City… New York City!?!” Jax bobbed his head as he said the last line.

“What? Dude…”

“That Pace salsa shit. Don’t you watch TV? It’s a commercial.”

“Yeah… OK… but where did that come from?”

“Came from your ass!”

“Man, good thing we’re not at a bar WITH chicks. You’d scare them all off.”

“Whatever man! I don’t want any of them chicks White’s talking to! I can get any girl.”

“Huh? Wait…”

“They’re just after his money anyways. Dude’s fucking rich.”

“White?”

“Rich and didn’t buy us any beers. What a fuck… ball.”

“I think you should chill dude.”

“Chill dis mutha fucker.”

Jax downs another pint. Tong kicked himself not getting any dinner earlier. It seemed like a good idea to take Jax out. White didn’t want to drink, Jax hadn’t hung out for a while, and Tong, well, he just wanted to have a few beers. Everything looked fine on paper. A designated driver, a drinker, and a drinking buddy, it’s a simple recipe – one that’s about to turn into a disaster.

White came to the table with the girls he’s just met. It was like an absent-minded man strolling happily down the street in a clean white suit as a tomato cart came careening down the hill. The tomato cart was Jax.

“Hey, I want you all to meet my two friends.”

The girls smiled and waved.

Jax stood up and bellowed, “If you’re looking for free drinks, you came to the wrong place! See these, they’re mine!”

It was just six thirty and the three found themselves outside on the curb. Tong sitting on the curb next to White as he stood looking back inside. Jax was a few feet away sitting with his knees to his elbows supporting his head. The beers from earlier were in a puddle just underneath of him. Tong grimaced as he caught site of it and looked up at White. He was too busy paying attention to what was going on inside.

“Awww man, the chicken song again. ‘bout the only thing a sober person can enjoy in there.”

“It’s a shit hole anyways,” Jax let out.

The Three Wisemen

Fall is about the best time to be in Maryland. That is, after surviving the last few weeks of September. The heat and humidity are just unbearable. Seeking shade in that sort of weather is unbearable. But come October, the weather just flips a switch and the area becomes beautiful. Weather forecasts were no longer filled with days of scattered thunderstorms. It was just partly cloudy skies with a gentle breeze coming from the north. Temperature may be a bit chilly, but that was usually in the morning. The sun would soon warm things up to a comfortable level by noon. By this time too, the foliage changed as well. Red, brown, and orange leaves were popping up everywhere. Being blessed with so many trees, the state just becomes one big postcard that you get to drive through. It’s simply amazing.

Today was one of those days. It was a perfect day to do a little fresh water fishing. And there we were just me, my buddy and brother in-law Kent, and my little nephew Nicholas along the Potomac River. The river is notorious for under currents. So the calm placid flow you see at the top hides one dramatic current underneath.

I hold Nicholas back. “Don’t go too far in, it’s dangerous.”

His oversized rubber boots flopping clumsily through the water finally stopped. He just looked up at me, pulling back his cap to make eye contact with me. In the sunlight, his light brown eyes shown like a set of marbles I used to play with. He doesn’t talk too much. Just imitating us in a clumsy and cute way, returning a grin every time we watched him. He definitely got his smile from his dad, my oldest brother. Out of all seven of us, his laughter was the most unique. You didn’t even need to hear the joke to laugh. Once you hear him laugh you’d laugh along. Just seeing his smile on his kids face makes me hear his laugh in my mind.

I put my tackle box down. Nicholas put his little lunch box down. He looked up at me and smiled. We were standing side by side in about five inches of water. The smooth rounded rocks underneath are feet shuffled under our weight.

“Good,” I told him. “Just keep an eye on that.”

Again he nodded.

Kent came up next to us, on the other side of Nicholas. He wobbled Nicholas head causing him to readjust his hat.

“Ready to fish my man?” asked Kent.

Again he nodded.

We all took out our fishing rod and started assembly. Kent and I knelt down and went through our tackle boxes. We both had every type of weight and hook. Any type of tool that you needed for fishing we had in our tackle box. A bit rusty and dirty, but they did the job. Looking over at Nicholas, he was doing the same thing, but with his lunch box. A sandwich, corn on the cob, and a juice box weren’t your normal fishing supplies.

I set up the hook and weight for Nicholas and brought out the bait, night crawlers.
“Nice, but you think he’s scared.” Kent stated the obvious as Nicholas hid behind his leg.

“He’ll have to deal with it at some time.” I told Kent. I turn to Nicholas and ask him carefully. “Do you want to put this on your hook?”

He shook.

“It’s easy. I’ll show you.”

As I hook the worm Nicholas hid again. I give Kent a hopeless look, but he just shrugged.

“The kid hates it.”

“You want me put it on for you?”

He shook.

“It’s just a worm.”

He shook.

I throw my hands up in surrender. My head drops and I stare at he water passing underneath my feet. The sunlight sparkled in the water. You could see the dark gray rocks under the water. A better view of them could be seen under the little shadow cast by Nicholas’s lunch box.

“So what do you want to put on your hook?”

We watch as Nicholas came around Kent surveying the boxes. His eyes steered clear of the bag of night crawlers in my hand. He walked up to my box and saw the imitation lures and cringed. He didn’t even touch them. Just hovered over the box, moving his head around to look through the box. He was like a living top gyrating back and forth making us wonder when he was going to topple over.

I grabbed the banana scented fake lure. “How about we start with this one.”

The shiny and wiggling lure probably reminded him of the night crawlers, because he made face and did what I was getting used to.

He shook.

By now he made it over to his own lunch box. He looked through it. Not much in there. But then he looked at me and smiled. I felt the warm delight of his smile once again. It fought off the restlessness that was brewing. He pointed down at his corn.

“Corn?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Corn it is. Not sure what you’re going to catch with just corn.”

“Corn is a remarkable crop you know.” Kent started.

He’s always been that guy filled knowledge, useless knowledge. Anytime there was trivia night at the local bar, he would always leave victorious. And of course, that always meant a trip to Best Buy the next day to spend that twenty-five dollar gift certificate. Which of course, meant movie night at my condo. I love hosting get together. The wife loves to cook and I love hanging out with my friends. It used to be out on the town, but I guess with married life, we just moved the venue home. I mean you can’t get to hear Kent’s knowledgeable stories over the blasting music. It’s simply impossible, let alone out of place. The funny thing though, is it’s pretty ironic that this guy knows so much about everything, but knows so little about his own job. We work at the same company but he’s always coming to me for help. Computer networks must be his bane. But I have to say I’m quite the opposite. I know everything about computer networks but not about anything else. I guess that’s why we’ve been friends for so long.

“It’s used in so much food. You’d be surprised by the number of foods that have some sort of corn by product.”

I give Kent a smirk as he knows, that I know, that he’s about to dive into his Discovery Channel mode. It’s a welcomed thing when it comes to fishing.

I pluck a kernel off the ear of corn and fashion it on Nicholas’s hook.

“Obviously, it’s used in that high fructose corn syrup. You can’t imagine how much corn is used to make that stuff. In any case, it’s the amount of sugar your body consumes when you have something with it. Something I think you should be aware of.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked as I hand Nicholas his fishing rod.

“Dude, you’ve always been the most fit guy throughout high school. Even through college. But now, man, look at your belly. I bet you’d be out of breath if you ran ten yards.”

“Uncle Kent talks a lot doesn’t he?” I say to Nicholas.

He nodded.
“Watch how I cast. Hold the line with your index finger and open up the spindle like this.” I wait until Nicholas does the same thing, before continuing. “Now carefully bring the rod behind you like this. Watch out for the hook. You don’t want to get snagged by that. Now, when you flick it, you have to remember to let go of your index finger.” I give the rod a little flick of the wrist and watch my cast sail out into the water.

Nicholas tries and successfully casts his line straight down in front of him two feet away.

“It’s OK,” I tell him. “Remember to let go when you flick. It’s about timing.”

Kent went on with his lecture as we watched Nicholas try again. “Maybe it’s the beer.”

“Oh, I think it’s definitely the beer.”

“Can’t get enough of it eh?”

“Yeah, it taste so good when it touches you lips.” I try to mimic Will Farrell from the movie Old School. It must have worked because Kent laughed.

“I hear ya.” Kent went on. “But if you and my sister are thinking about kids, you all should think about your health.”

“True, but it’s not about my belly.”

“It’s not about that, it’s about the drinking.”

I knew what he was getting at. It’s just hard to do with everyone that comes over. They all still want to drink. As a good host, it’s hard not to join in. Reliving good old times with good friends is best served with a nice cold beverage.

Nicholas gives me a tug on my shirt. I look down and he’s holding his fishing rod for me.

“You want me to cast it for you?”

He nodded.

I cast the corn lure out to the middle of the river. I couldn’t help but laugh as the corn kernel flew through the air. Maybe he’ll catch a vegetarian fish.

“Hold on tight OK? You never know when a fish will bite.”

He nodded.

I look over at Kent who shared the same amusement.

“I know we’re always drinking with you, but you could drink something else,” he suggested.

“Naw man, it’s cool, it’s just drinking,” I shrug it off. “I’m fine.”

“Seriously man.”

“I know your looking out for your sis and me, but I’ll tone it down.”

I put my hand on his shoulder to reassure him. It’s a little too serious for us at that moment and we had to laugh. Nicholas looked up at us wondering what we were laughing at. We’ve had serious talks before, definitely, during fishing, but this one was different. I know drinking is a bit more of a show. You can say it’s a show of masculinity or something for me. He was right. I could be healthier these days.

“Maybe we should switch to wine.” Kent said.

“How about this.” I figure we both could win from this. “First one to catch a fish determines what we drink tonight.”

Kent thought about a second, more for dramatic effect than actual thought, “We’re on.”

As luck would have it, the fish bite at that very moment. It was just like what you see on TV, a two footer jumping out of the water. I swore it was in slow motion. Water droplets suspended around the fish. The scales dazzled like a disco ball under the bright sun. It was amazing but most of all, it wasn’t my catch. It wasn’t even Kent’s. It was Nicholas’s. He stood there fighting strong and unmoving. We then helped him reel in his catch, laughing as he let out his dad’s laugh. Usually this size of a catch would be tough for a little kid to pull in, but it was much more difficult with three people laughing their asses off. Every sound Nicholas made laughing made us erupt in laughter, which made him laugh even more. A perpetual cycle that was only broken when we feel down.

Oh we were soaked. But it didn’t matter. You couldn’t ask for Nicholas’s first catch to be any better than that. And yeah you guess it. We spent that night watching Sunday night football, having Vietnamese fish wraps, and washing it down with ice-cold orange juice. And no, there was no Vodka in them. No cold cans of beer in sight. Just Nicholas sitting there in his rubber boots swinging his feet under the chair with a big smile.