Wednesday, May 24, 2006

in which i am afforded the opportunity to quote from "my name is earl"

My preferred liquor store lies on the other side of the interstate from Casa Camino. The wider selection and cheaper prices are generally worth the extra time and half-mile of traffic, but there are occasions, like this past Saturday, when the liquor store that sits beside my grocery store will simply have to do. Weekend traffic on my side of the sprawling boro is an ever-thickening bitch that I am increasingly reluctant to battle, and I am therefore, at times, willing to settle for higher prices and a diminished selection to keep from crawling that-half mile in a baking Camino mobile.
So it was that I stepped into this second choice of an alcohol merchant, picked up a bottle of Rex Goliath pinot noir (my standby noir due to it’s name and affordability), and waited patiently in line behind a group of aging blondes as they chose from an assortment of schnapps along the bottom shelf behind the counter. The guy working the register leaned from his stool just far enough to hook each bottle between a couple of nicotine stained fingers, groan for effective, and then slowly upright himself and smile crookedly at each of the ladies.
He’s the same guy who’s always there on the weekends. He’s thin and somewhere in his fifties, with thinning black hair slicked backwards and the top of a pack of Marlboro one hundreds peeking from the pocket of his plaid shirt. He may own the place for all I know. The only thing I’m sure of is that he’s the type who samples from the airplane bottles at the counter when the store is either empty or that aisle of Australian merlots obscures him from the random customer.
Let it be known that I in no way mean to imply that these traits are less than admirable.
I eventually made it to the counter. He took my bottle and turned it around in his hands a couple of times before scanning it into the register.
“Rex was a 47-pound rooster” he gleamed from the label. He then gave me a different, yet equally crooked smile and added, “That’s a big fucking chicken.”
I smiled, agreed with a grunt of some sort, and then remembered one of Randy’s lines from that episode of My Name is Earl containing the subplot of Randy’s fear of chickens (which, by the way, would be officially diagnosed as “alektorophobia”).
“A rooster is a man-chicken” I quoted.
He paused for a moment with my bottle halfway into the thin paper bag and furrowed his brow without looking up.
“Alright,” he said with a nod, “that’s a big fucking man-chicken.”

6 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I once went fishing on a frozen lake in West Virginia with a group of twelve year old boys. Having never fished on the ice before we brouht no tools to break the ice.There were no open holes available. We asked some older more experianced fishermen how to make a hole in the ice. One man said we could borrow his cinder block with a rope tied to it to make our own hole. We took the block and went back to our spot.The first few attemps were to no avail. The ice was tougher than we thought. Finnally with a mighty toss high in the air the block burst though the ice and sank to the bottom of the lake with the rope. We had to go tell the old man that we had lost his block and rope. Upon recieving the news the man said with a quick and high pitched voice "sombitch" he then demanded to see the hole that was made. We took him back to our spot. He looked looked down at the ice and said "That's a big ass hole". We all lost it at that point, being twelve... hehe he said big ass hole... hehe. We did not catch any fish that day, but I will never forget that big ass hole.

7:23 PM  
Blogger Chez Bez said...

I was going to write a 22 line comment, but I see someone beat me to it. And hilariously at that.

10:07 PM  
Blogger Rex L. Camino said...

Indeed. That has to be my friend Dave with another tale of West Virginia.

He has some great ones about Jesco White, the "Dancing Outlaw".

6:21 AM  
Anonymous brittney said...

hahaha

I always thought it was Joy who said that. Either way, great fucking blog-story.

11:19 AM  
Anonymous Lauren said...

Randy and Earl.. are sooo "Of Mice and Men."

Had I paid enough attention to that book when it was assigned in high school- I'd know the names of the two main characters.. but I only remember enough to know Randy and Earl.. are soo them.

- L

8:54 PM  
Blogger Rita said...

Hilarious, AND you managed to work in an "Earl" funny. Well played.

The ONLY thing that could beat it are some entertaining Jessco stories. I am always up for those.

7:02 PM  

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