Episode 02: A Person Can Work Up A Mean Mean Thirst

“Stevie! How ya doin’, boyo?”

Old Bobby Bird. If you didn’t know any better you’d swear he was one of the pillars holding up the wall at this dive.

“Apple! Hey, darlin’!”

That was one of his things. He called all the guys ‘boyo’ and all the girls ‘darlin’.” It didn’t matter if he knew them or not. Of course, if you came to the CC Club more than twice a month, chances are Birdy knew who you were.

“I haven’t seen you two in a while. How ya been?”

“Not bad, Birdy. How’s everything?”

“Ahhh… It could be worse, ya know?”

That was always his answer. Evidently his life could always “be worse.” I suppose that’s a good attitude to take. I mean, all our lives could be worse, right? I could be a child prostitute or something. And in this snow? That’s a tough gig.

Birdy was holding down the first booth on the right, his usual. You could tell the time by which side he was sitting on. If it was early in the evening, say 7 or 8ish, he’d be sitting on the side facing the door, watching the folks walk in, waiting for them to remove their scarves so he could find out if he recognized their face. Later in the evening, midnight or so, he’d switch to the other side of the booth and struggle to focus on the TV screen at the end of the room. He never cared what station unless it was basketball. For some reason, old Birdy hated basketball.

It was nearly 8 now and Birdy had his eyes on the door.

“Grab a couple of drinks and have a seat, boyos. What are ya up to?”

“Not much. It’s too damn cold in my apartment so we thought we’d come down here and try to stay warm.”

Apple took the lead. Birdy’s charm had worn thin on me years ago. It’s not that I disliked the guy. I don’t know how anyone could really dislike him. I was just tired of talking with him. We never talked about anything at all.

“Tell me about it! I’ve lived through over 50 of these winters and they never get any easier. And this sweater ain’t as warm as it looks!”

Birdy had been wearing the same outfit for at least the last 6 years. Green sweater, blue jeans, and a pair of old Chucks. He called them his, “rock ‘n roll shoes.”

“You kids livin’ together?”
“Nah. We’re just hanging out tonight. My boyfriend’s over in St. Paul doing god know’s what.”

“Haha! I’m sure he’s not in too much trouble. It’s St. Paul!”

“I suppose. I don’t like him driving around on these icy roads when he’s been drinking though. And I know he has.”

“Ain’t no big deal. If you’re going to drive drunk, best to do it on a night like this. It’s so icy that no one else is on the road. And if ya slide over the line and a cop gets ya, ya can just blame some black ice. I’ll never forget this one time I was driving in the car with Apollonia…”

Again with Apollonia... Ya see, Birdy’s been kicking around Minneapolis for a long time and let me tell you, he’s got stories and stories. He knew all the big shots back in the 80’s. Westerberg, those Stinson boys, Curtiss A, Pete Jesperson, The Suburbs, The Hüskers… you name it. But his one big score, and no one knows if it was true, was Apollonia. Y’know, from Purple Rain? He claims that the two of them used to date a little bit. “Nothin’ serious,” he’d always say.

“So Apollonia and I were riding back from the suburbs. Minnetonka, Minnehaha, who can remember? She was at some kind of photo thing with Prince and his gang and I was there too. Now, can you believe it, they didn’t want me in the pictures. So I spent the whole time sucking down this free champagne that was lying around. That little fuckin’ guy was eyeing’ me up the whole time. We never got along.”

“Wait. You and Prince didn’t get along?”

I couldn’t let this go.

“Nah, he was a jealous little guy. He was upset that Apollonia had taken a little shine to yours truly. Plus, he didn’t drink and didn’t like to be around people that drank. That didn’t seem fair. I mean, I didn’t like being around people that wore little purple pants either, but I tried to be civil. To each his own, right?”

Apple interjected, evidently she wanted to hear the rest of the story.

“So you guys were at this photo shoot…”

“Yeah, right. So the guy finished snapping pictures of Apollonia hanging off this guy and we all head out to our cars. Prince was riding in a bright white Cadillac with some burly fellow driving and we were driving my red Buick. I had just got it a couple of weeks before. Brand new!.”

I might be wrong, but I think I still see that Buick sitting around the streets. Somewhere near Emerson and 34th.

“So we’re driving along and, like I said, I’d had a few and I was moving pretty good along 394. All the sudden, that white Caddy comes zoomin’ past us a hundred miles an hour! Just flies by. Even I thought that was pretty dangerous. I mean, it was snowing like crazy and you couldn’t see too far in front of you.”

Birdy finished off what was left of his beer.

“Do ya mind if I pour a bit?” he said, eyeing our pitcher.

“Nah, go ahead.”

He’d always do that. Start a story and then halfway through ask for some of your pitcher or ask you to buy another round. He was a clever fuck.

Glass refilled, he continued.

“So he’s just screaming by us and I lose ‘em in about 10 seconds. White Caddy, white snow, I don’t know where he’s gone. Two minutes later, a cop car pulls up behind us and throws his lights on. We’re the only car on the road and I was keeping it way under the limit. I didn’t want to slide off into the rails. Especially not with my girl in the car y’know?

“So we pull over just in front of this off ramp, y’know, so there was a little bit of shoulder, and the cop gets out of the car. He walks up to me and says, ‘Hey, ya were driving without your lights on. These are storm conditions and ya gotta have your lights on.’ He was right, I didn’t have them on, so I took the ticket.”

“Wow, Birdy, that’s quite a story, really.”

“You ain’t heard the worst of it. The cop walks away and I look up at the bridge off the ramp, y’know, comin’ back over the highway, and there’s that little fuckin’ guy in this big purple jacket, just glaring at us.”

“Wait, Prince got you a ticket?”

“Yup, that little fuck. I don’t know how the hell he got a hold of that cop, but somehow he let them know that I was driving without my lights on. Then he had that driver speed up and find a good spot to watch me get busted. And he wasn’t even laughing or anything. He was just standing there by himself, back to the Caddy, just glaring.”

“Ha! You’re kidding! That was the best he could come up with to get back at you? Get you a moving violation?”

“Nah, that wasn’t the best, but I’ll give him credit, that was pretty goddamn sneaky.”

With that we finished our drinks.

“You two getting another round? Grab one for me, would ya? I gotta run to the bathroom.”