Apocalyptic Dipsomaniac

Of all the times in history to be a heavy drinker, I end up in the one with the most broken and dried out bottles. You might think it near impossible to get access to enough booze to even get a buzz, much less a habit. But, unlike some of the other poor saps in The Beginning that found the cliched holdouts like grocery stores and water towers, I stumbled upon a liquor store. Not just any liquor store, the liquor store. It was the Macy’s of fine wines and spirits, a whole small warehouse of booze, mixers, and all on one of the few still active power grids. It was all mine! Now, don’t get me wrong, I know that to most folks, maybe a head of lettuce or a loaf of bread would be preferred to a bottle of scotch and some potato chips. However, before everything went sideways, I was…well, a bit of a deadbeat. Mind you, I never claimed to be a good husband or even a good person, but my family hoped that I could be both of those one day. It was a good thought.

After a bit of looking around, I managed to scrape together a decent bed from the crates lying around in the back of the store. Just place some packing material on the lids, slap some duct tape on all of it, grab your trusty ol’ duffle bag for a pillow, and you have yourself a poor man’s Tempur-Pedic. Admittedly, I took a lot longer than needed in getting the bed together. Subconsciously, I knew what was waiting for me when I finished sorting out the creature comforts. When I walked back in to the main area of the store, an incredible sense of déjà vu hit me like a brick. I could see it as though it were right in front of me. The first liquor store I ever walked into when I turned 21. I felt so grown, like I could finally start making real decisions. It almost makes me chuckle. Just as back then, I went down every isle to see what tickled this wayward wanderer’s fancy, until I found my inevitable destination. The one that I knew was calling me from the beginning. “Ithaca Rum” shown the beautiful, golden bottle, with what appeared to be a rather happy, toga adorned Odysseus. My absolute favorite. The feel of the cool bottle in my hands nearly brought me to tears. For the first time in months, I had a sense of relief. After barely quelling the urge to simply drink from the bottle, I decided to be a gentleman. After grabbing one of many plastic cups and some soda, I moseyed on back to my bed. I mixed myself a drink, kicked off my shoes, and relaxed. Who could ask for a better day? But, as the sweet mixture that I had longed for these many moons touched my lips, I felt the icy sting on my chest that once moved mountains for me. I pulled the necklace out from under my shirt and ran its’ smooth, silvery surface between my fingers. My wife, being both a romantic and minimalist, gave me this thin, heart shaped trinket as a way to show me that, no matter where or who I was, I’d always have her love with me.

“I promise, I’m fine.” “No, you’re not. I noticed a difference in you the moment you walked in the room…we talked about this. Why didn’t you say anything to me if you were feeling the urges again? You have been doing so well this whole year.” “Sweetheart, please, it was only a few shots, that’s all.” “It doesn’t matter if you cleaned out the whole bar, what happened?” “You know, the whole walk back here I was trying to think of some sort of excuse for you. Hey, maybe it was stress from work, or this crazy ‘plague’ that has everyone in a fuss that just pushed me passed my breaking point. But, in reality, I just fucking wanted it, okay?! I know that you hate it and you know damn well that I do too. I hate everything that I become and everything that I lose when I give in, but. I. Just. Can’t. Stop… I feel like I’ll never be able to get that across to you, much less anyone else who could even give a shit!”

I had only cursed in front of my wife once in the nine years we were together. Almost just as rarely would I raise my voice. No matter how angry I got, no matter how much the drink took a hold of me, I told myself that there was only one way to treat her: lovingly. That was the last night I saw her. I didn’t cry nearly as hard for the end of the world as I did when seeing her taillights fade down our street.

I dropped the cup as though it had burned me. The sickly smell of sugar, mixed with the excessive amount of alcohol, made me vomit. How did I get here…again? Had I truly learned nothing? Was I supposed to return to the drink like a man returning from the desert? No. No. NO. Not this time. I’d rather die once out there than a thousand times in here.

I gathered what food and water I could carry in my bag. As I stepped through the door, the afternoon sun bathed me in warmth. The air was different from this morning. Every breath felt like the first gasp of air after being underwater. I ran the necklace through my hands one last time and kissed it, before returning it underneath my shirt. I never really cared much for walking, but she always loved it.