Before I begin this post, I’m going to fill you in a little bit about my nom de plume (For those of you that don’t speak French, or have are lacking a basic level of education, that means “pen name” or, to dumb it down further “that where after I type some stuff I sign my that big chunk of words with”). It is a brief homage to the subject of my post today, one of my favorite writers, Charles Bukowski. He was a hard drinking, hard living short-story writer and poet. His life consisted on selling stories or poems, then drinking and fucking nonstop until his money ran out. Repeat. He would shack up with women just so he didn’t have to work and so he would have a quiet place to write during the day while the broads (forgive the term but, in Bukowski’s world, they were broads) were at work.. He would work odd jobs to keep up the booze habit and to make rent at the Y, In short, he fucking ruled. Much of his work reflects this lifestyle, focusing on drunks and struggling writers trying to make it in LA. Inhabiting dim, nicotine stained barrooms in shady parts of LA, dealing with the crazy woman you’ve been shacking up with out of sheer convenience between you two (you need a roof to sleep under, she needs to fuck).
However, Charles Bukowski is not the subject of this post directly. After reading some of his work, I coined a term for certain parts of the day or instances in your life where you, in some small shape or form, are acting like a character out of one of his stories. With no shortage of originality or inventiveness, I refer to these moments as “Bukowski Moments.” They are generally pretty awesome, so far as you don’t find yourself looking around and realizing your entire life has become a series of Bukowski moments. I will outline a few that I have been a part of. But please know, there are numerous other types of BM’s. If you have read Charles Bukowski, you’ll know them when they happen.
Bukowski Moment 1
-Upon first breath in the morning, crack an ice cold bottle of Budweiser, or something cheaper, or better yet, dirt cheap scotch. Showering with said beverage and then using it wash your mouth out after brushing your teeth. You can get extra points with this one if you smoke a cigarette while showering.
For most college students that went to a school with a Division-1 football team, this is (or should be) par for the course for a game day. While that is a great BM it is even more effective when you do that on some innocuous Tuesday morning before work/school.
I managed to do this a few days in college, they were Fridays, and it’s a pretty wondrous feeling, walking to class with that warm wave of pre-drunkness rolling over your brain. I would think of it as priming the pump before the weekends festivities.
Bukowski Moment 2
-Drinking on the job/some important obligation, or completely bailing on job/important obligation to go get housed at a bar.
I used to work at a fast food restaurant(that story is for a different post). I was scheduled every Thursday, and being the upstanding college citizen I was, I knew it was my duty, to God, my country and everyone that had been at college before me, to get drunk on a Thursday night. Therefore, I would bring the bar to the store early. If you came to my restaurant on Thursday evening, you can rest assured that I had I vodka in my soda that my benevolent boss let us have for free during our shift, and that you were about to get a shitty sandwich with service matching the dubious quality of the food. Drunk is the only way to make it through a job in the food service industry and like Mr. Bukowski, I knew that.
Bukowski Moment 3
-Payday, spend vast majority of your paycheck in first two days on booze, food, other consumables.
Now, I must say that this is one I’m not proud of. You walk out your office, it’s a Thursday or Friday, you do a little “fuck yeah!” fist pump on the way to your car. Then to the bank, money in account, foot to floor, ass on bar stool. Now this has never been a regular occurrence for me, however I have been guilty of it once or twice in my short life. You go out Friday, take the girl to dinner, drinks, multiple bars (damn the covers!) and then you wake up the next morning, look at your account balance and just say “shit.” You decide to take it easy the next night, but that money has just burn such a huge hole in your pocket you just can’t resist. Then you are stuck with $50 bucks to get you through the next two weeks of your life and it’s time to sell some of your bodily fluids.
This is not a complete list of Bukowski moments. They are varied, many having to do with mooching off strange women in seedy bars and other various deeds of that sort. I just wrote about the few I have been a party to. They aren’t something to be proud of, but they add a little bit of decrepit and frowzy zest to life.
I would like to welcome you to post a favorite Bukowski moment in your life in the comments. They are a part of life that you should share with the world. I won’t judge. Who knows? Maybe your comments will get a post dedicated to them.