My Best Friend's Bucket List: Volume One

CHAPTER 8

  Lorrie And Me Go To White Castle Part 1

  (Downstairs Douche)

  Do you remember the first time you ever fell in love? What about your first kiss? How about the first time you felt a boob or, if you're a chick, the first time you felt an erect wang? What is your earliest memory of using the restroom on your own? The first time you tasted ice cream or had a soda? I want you to close your eyes and actually summon these memories.

  I'll give you some time to do that, unless you are some alien creature that can read with your eyes closed.

  Now that you have done that, what was it? Well obviously you can't tell me, I'm not there with you now. I'm more than likely drunk wondering if anyone is reading this. I hope that you are and I hope you are enjoying it.

  When I met Dick Pickett we immediately had three things in common. ONE, we were both in love with Melanie Kaiser(a blonde that was one grade ahead of us). TWO, we both loved the game Street Fighter. THREE, our favorite food was a McDonald's Happy Meal.

  But, Dick had a secret, one that I did not know about until after his death. His first memory of fast food was not McDonald's. It was of a mysterious place seen only in TV and media for me.

  A place called White Castle.

  This did nothing to usurp his love for McDonald's, this was just something that was important enough for him to put on his bucket list.

  So(in my best radio announcer voice)COMIN' IN AT NUMBER 10 OF DICK PICKETT'S BUCKET LIST:

  10. EAT AT WHITE CASTLE.

  My first fast food experience was a McDonald's Happy Meal. My little sisters first memory was of a Big Mac meal. I remember that my mom had offered me a regular meal and I was offended. I cared not for Big Mac's and Quarter Pounder's. Those meals did not even come with toys. But I managed to help my tiny sister finish her Big Mac.

  There was something about your first fast food experience. It was more than comfort food. It was a right of passage into your true tastes. I doubt every one that ever bit into a burger loved it. I mean, even the angelic Lorrie Lovitt, she ate burgers when I wanted, but much to her chagrin.

  In her defense when you're that slender the last thing you want is cheeseburger. The protein alone would make her sick. But she would always tough it out for me. Lorrie was what nature called, a peach. Sweet and soft. But after a few Jack Daniels on the rocks(like two)she could be a real pistol. And she got mouthier than a sailor on cocaine.

  But I loved her. I mean, whatever that means. If love is pain then I loved her. If love is sacrifice then I loved her. If love meant making a complete ass of yourself in front of that person repeatedly, then I loved her.

  Unfortunately, my hand was in bandages and I was hung over. The last thing in my head was a solid crystal clear image of Lorrie Lovitt in string bikini style panties. I smashed a half full glass of Jack and Coke Zero into the face of some idiot Nirvana fan.

  DISCLAIMER: My best friends bucket list does not agree with smashing glasses of alcoholic beverages into the face of people that listen to horrible music. Nor do we believe these actions will make chicks in bikini panties to appear. If you want to see girls in bikini panties please consult the internet or drill holes into female locker room walls.

  DISCLAIMER #2: My best friends bucket list is just kidding! UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU DRILL HOLES INTO WALLS TO CHECK OUT CHICKS. PLEASE CONSULT LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT IF YOU HAVE DONE SUCH.

  The glass broke his nose but the shards stuck into my skin. Upon arriving home, Lorrie in her scantly clad panties used tweezers to pick out the glass, I had passed out by then. Still I woke up now and then with her kneeling at my side working on my hand like Salma Hayek in Desperado.

  Now I was awake for real and hung over. The note on the fridge said that Lorrie had stepped out to the whole foods store. I opened the fridge to get a can of Mountain Dew Pitch Black. There was none. Luckily, it was Sunday. Which meant I could stop by the Swap Meet and see the Twins. They were my Dew suppliers. Jack and Jeff Davis. Two odd cats, but they were loyal. I hadn't seen them since Dick's funereal. Now that I thought of it, I hadn't seen much of anybody since Dick's burial.

  “It's true, dude. What's up with that?” It was Dick. He occupied the couch I was just asleep in. I looked at him from the small kitchen. His throat and stomach wounds bled.

  “I don't know. I guess I just haven't felt like talking to anyone.”

  “Well, now you have a mission to research. White Castle, dude.” He said.

  “And I have to explain the bucket list to Lorrie.” I said and shook my head. A migraine throbbed.

  “You're gonna have to ditch Downstairs Douche first, dude.” Dick said, then disappeared. I heard a male voice, high pitched. Then the voice of Lorrie. Outside the door. Keys jingled. The lock shook and turned. Lorrie entered with bags, behind her was Downstairs Douche. His name was Miles or Milton. Me and Dick fucking hated him, but most chicks couldn't resist him, it appeared the same for Lorrie.

  Downstairs Douche looked across between a young Matt Dillon and Patrick Swayze. Google the names if you don't know what I mean. But it was a strange combination of looks. His voice was like nails on a chalkboard and he never had anything enlightening to say.

  The things Downstairs Douche talked about were: His car. His job. His looks. His taste in fine cuisine. Everything equaled Douche. None the less, Lorrie was laughing. The idiot was smiling as such.

  “Hey, Tuck.” Lorrie said to me. Douche just stood there, smiling. “Have you met Milton? He lives downstairs.”

  “I know him” I said, staring him down. He looked away like a pussy.

  “Hey. Sorry to here about your best friend, Tuck.” Douche said, looking at the ground.

  “Bet you are. What are you doing in my apartment?” I had forgot Lorrie stood there.

  “I just-” He tried to say.

  “He was being a gentlemen and helping me with the bags.” Lorrie said, attitude aimed at me in her tone.

  “Well, THANK YOU, Miles. You can go now.” I said.

  “It's Milton.” Lorrie corrected. But Miles was halfway out the door.

  “Y'all come back now ya hear!” I shouted. I know it was a lame thing to say but I was angry.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” Lorrie asked. I was not the only one pissed off.

  “Me and Dick don't like that fucker, so I wouldn't recommend bringing him around here.”

  “Dick? Tuck, he's dead. Nothing he thinks matters anymore.” Her voice was cold and I snapped. I grabbed a jar of baby pickles and threw it into the wall. The jar shattered. Lorrie shrieked loudly.

  “This was still Dick's place and we hated that fucker. I don't want him in this apartment. If he steps foot in here, I'm putting mine in his face.”

  “You need to calm down. And now you owe me pickles, moron.”

  “Don't you call ME FUCKING NAMES!” I shouted. “I'm trying here! I'm doing the best I can!”

  There was a stern knock on the apartment door. Lorrie rushed over to it and opened it. It was Downstairs Douche.

  “Is everything okay up here? Are you okay, Lorrie?” He asked.

  “We're fine, Miles. Hit the bricks.” I said. Lorrie scowled at me.

  “Thank you, Milton. We were just having a heated discussion. We're doing okay. Thank you for your concern.”

  “Just let me know if you ever need anything.” Idiot said.

  “I will.” Lorrie the polite lady said. She shut the door and turned to me. “You are out of control, you need to calm down.”

  “I'm sorry I overreacted but you should know that me and Dick hated that guy and he is a severe Douche bag.”

  “Why are good hearted people always douche bags and losers to you?” Lorrie hissed at me.

  “Cause you should never trust people. Especially people that go out of their way to be nice. They only want one thing. Maybe two.”

  “And what might those two things that be?” Lorrie asked.

  “Money or pussy?”

  “Shut up. G
oddamn you're such a jack ass sometimes.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I asked, my blood boiling.

  “Oh, you think I forgot about you and that hick. You just screwed her in the bathroom of the mall.”

  “Are you seriously bringing that up?” I couldn't believe it. Lorrie seemed to regret it immediately, but now my anger turned to a heavy weakness in my stomach and knees. I felt like she hit me in the midsection with a sledgehammer.

  “I'm sorry. Can you help me clean this up.”

  “I got it. Just put away the rest of the stuff.” I soaked up the pickle juice with paper towels. The used the broom to sweep the pickles and glass. I felt even more stupid knowing Lorrie hated pickles and that I loved them. She had obviously bought them for me.

  There was a sharp knock on the door. Fucking Downstairs Douche. I had the broom in my hand and rushed to answer the door. Lorrie tried to get to it first, but could not. I pulled the door open fast.

  “What the fuck-” What I saw cut me off. Two uniformed police officers stood in front of me. They looked fucking pissed. “How can I help you officers?”

  “We got an anonymous call about a domestic disturbance.” The first one said. I smiled as casual as possible.

  “We were just singing and I knocked over the pickles. I can sing, but I can't dance.” I said. The two cops made harder looking asshole faces. Then Lorrie was behind me.

  “What's up?” She asked me.

  “These two officers got a call about us being domestically disturbing.” I said. The cops sighed loudly.

  “Officers, we are so sorry, I hope our reenactment of Summer Lovin' from Grease wasn't too loud.” Lorrie shot that teethy smile. The one that gave me goosebumps.

  “I'm sorry I knocked over the pickles, honey.” I said to her. In full character.

  “It's okay Sweet Tart.” Lorrie grinned at me. The cops were obviously pissed.

  “Look, we don't care what you were doing or what you're hiding. But if we get another complaint from this unit, you will be going to jail.” One of the cops said to me. Then the two walked off.

  I took a deep breathe, closed the door. Lorrie watched me. I smiled at her.

  “I need Dew Pitch Black. Then I want pizza. Are you in?”

  “The Swap Meet and Johnny Basil's place? Today?” She couldn't believe it. I just smiled more. “We are in the middle of a fight and you have been acting crazy lately.”

  “I think this little trip will help. Please.” I smiled again and it was on.

  We stepped into the larger tent attached to video game tent at the Swap Meet. The giant flat screen displayed Marvel Vs Capcom 2. The Twins, Jack and Jeff Davis battled it out on the big screen. I cleared my throat. The game paused and they stood up.

  “Tuck you are back for your pick up?” Jack said.

  “Mr. Sawyer you are back?” Jeff said.

  “Yeah. I'm here for the Pitch Black.” I said. Lorrie stood close to me. Jack and Jeff were good guys but the last time Lorrie was here they eye raped her(see the chapter titled Epic Fist Fight At The Indoor Swap Meet On A Sunday).

  “You brought Lorrie.” Jack said.

  “Miss Lorrie is here.” Jeff said.

  “Guys, focus and get me my Dew.”

  “Get the box, Jeff.” Jack said.

  “The box won't get itself, Jack.” Jeff said.

  They both stared at Lorrie and couldn't move. I went behind the TV, leaving Lorrie to distract them, took two twelve packs. Then we left.

  The Twins remained in a trance.

  At Johnny Basil's, Nico Saucony sat us in a corner booth. He was happy to see us and I was glad to see him. Nico was a good cat. He harbored guilt due to the fact that Dick had been delivering pizza's while covering his shift. That was the night Dick was killed(see the chapter titled Funereal For A Friend).

  “What can I start you two off with?” Nico asked. I looked at Lorrie she seemed distant in her head.

  “Give us a minute. Start us off with a couple Cokes, yeah?” I said.

  “You got it, Tuck. Anything at all. Just let me know.” He left us. I looked at Lorrie, she was very deep in her mind.

  “Hey. What do you want on your pizza?” I asked her.

  “I just like cheese. Whatever else you want.”

  “I have to talk to you about something.” I said.

  “What?”

  “Dick's bucket list.” I said, in a whisper.

  “That's real? My god, I thought you were drunken rambling.” She looked panicked.

  “No. That's what was in the envelope. He wants me to do things he never got chance to. It's a big responsibility. I don't like it, but he would've done it for me.” I said. Lorrie started crying, then she stopped and pulled herself together.

  “Do you like Meatball and onion pizza?” She asked.

  “What?”

  “We are here for pizza, let's enjoy it.”

  “I like meat ball and onion.” I smiled. The bucket list lingered in the back of my mind. “Look, last thing on the bucket list is to eat at White Castle but they only have those in the Midwest-” Nico cleared his throat, interrupting me. He held a piping hot meatball and onion pizza on a tray.

  “Compliments of the house.” He smiled and set it down. Then he brought the Cokes.

  “Thanks, Nico.” I said, sincere.

  “Come see me before you leave, I got good news for you. In the mean time enjoy the pie.” He left. I was anxious, now Nico had news, Lorrie ignored the bucket list.

  “Chill, dude.” Dick sat in the empty booth across from us. I couldn't answer him out loud so I had to mentally.

  “I can't, I need to do this list for you. If not I'll never forgive myself or let you go.” I thought.

  “Damn, the pizza is really good.” Lorrie said, a mouthful.

  “I have to go to White Castle. It's what Dick wanted to do before he died.” I said, stern but not mean.

  “Fine. Go. Just be careful.” Lorrie said and took another bite of pizza. My chest was tightening and the anxiety increased.

  “Deep breathes, dude.” Dick said.

  “I want you to come with me.” I said to Lorrie. She looked up at me like I called her a cunt.

  “Why do you want me to go?” Because, I love you Lorrie.

  “Because it was important to Dick. And we loved him.” I said. Lorrie set down her slice of pizza and her eyes slowly filled with tears.

  “I know, Tuck. I still love him. But, while you were with your mom, I had a long talk with mine. She and I agree it's best to move on with our lives. Accept the tragedy, but don't let it affect the future.” She said. My heart clenched. I looked at Dick, he was crying, with a straight face. But tears fell from his cheeks, mixing in with the blood that poured from his wounds.

  “Whatever you want, Lorrie.”

  “Why are you hurt?” She asked.

  “I'm good.” I lied, badly.

  “You have never called me 'Lorrie', Tuck.” Lorrie asked, scared.

  “I need a drink.” I flagged down Nico.

  In seconds I was sucking down Jack Daniels on the rocks. Then Lorrie had her own Jack on the rocks. The pizza was gone and whatever filter I had was gone.

  “It's fucked up of you if you don't want to assist me with Dick's final requests.”

  “You know I can't deal with this shit, Tucker. I'm gonna die before I can.”

  “You can do it. I got your back, angel. I would never let anything you hurt.” I was drunk and didn't realize it until I had said that. Looked at the ice in my empty glass.

  “You don't know what you want.” Lorrie said. I stared at her suddenly sober. What the fuck did she mean by that?

  “What the fuck do you mean by that?” I asked. And in that moment I noticed her. I really saw her. She wore a brown top, very bohemian, somewhat lacy. A long brown floral pattern skirt complimented her frame. Her milk chocolate brown hair, curly and soft. I wanted her more than I could remember wanting anything.

  “What do I
mean by what?” Lorrie slurred drunkenly. Nico was suddenly there at our side.

  “Johnny says I gotta follow you two home. You drive, Tuck?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Awright. Go puke and I'll have some coffee for you.” Nico said.

  I puked chunks of pizza in the sink and hot whiskey. The capillaries in my face had burst from purging. I looked like an asshole hobo. Maybe I was.

  I pulled out of the parking lot, hot cup coffee with cream and sugar, Nico followed us in his Cadillac. Lorrie was drunk and sang along to oldies on the radio. Even Miss American Pie. I focused on driving, but the idea that Lorrie was wearing bikini panties under the skirt, was driving me insane.

  We parked in the lot of the apartment complex. I told Lorrie to wait. Left the radio on for her. I got out to meet Nico and thank him for keeping us safe. He pulled behind us. I approached the drivers side window.

  “Hey, thanks man. I owe you big time. We got strange drama, sorry you had to hear it.”

  “It's all good. You didn't hear my good news.”

  “Oh, yeah. What's up?”

  “My uncle, he moved here two years ago from Jersey.”

  “That's awesome, man.”

  “No, it's not. But. He opened a White Castle franchise in the San Gabriel Valley. That's the awesome part.” Nico smiled like Satan and swear I could've kissed him.

  “You're serious.” I said.

  “I'll text you the directions.” Nico said, then sped off.

  I had Lorrie and escorted her into the open door of the apartment. She made her way straight to the kitchen. She grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel's from the freezer. I snatched it away from her.

  “Hey. I need that.” She said, calm.

  “You have had a lot already.” I said.

  “It's important and I need to say something.” She slurred, leaning up against the cabinets.

  “Okay, tell me.”

  “I need a drink, first.”

  “No, not gonna happen. You need rest. We are going to White Castle tomorrow.”

  “I'm not.” Lorrie said. Her face grave.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “I have a date.” She said. I clenched the frozen bottle of whiskey.

  “Huh?” I said. The blood in my veins was lava. I needed to vomit my intestines.

  “I'm sorry. I didn't sign up for a bucket list. Give me the Jack.” Lorrie said. I tossed her the bottle. I couldn't breathe.

  “Dude, please, deep breathes, man.” Dick was there, watching.

  “NO.” I said. “Please, don't, Lorrie.” Lorrie threw the bottle of Jack into the wall, it shattered.

  “I CAN'T DO IT, TUCK. I CAN'T! I WANT DICK BACK. I WANT HIM BACK.” Lorrie started vomiting on the floor. She screamed, feral screams of emotional pain. I held her tight, she pushed me away.

  “I'm going on a date with Milton. He is sweet and kind.” Lorrie said. I felt dizzy. There was loud stern knock at the door. Somehow I made it to open the door. It was two police officers.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I asked, angry. If anyone reading this has ever been hit with a billy club in the gut, I'm sorry. I don't know what it did to you, but I collapsed to my knees, right before the stun gun hit my throat.

  The last thing I remember was being handcuffed, behind my back, thrown into the back of a car. The vinyl reeked of wet urine. I was cheek to cheek with that vinyl.