It wouldn’t be a Memorial Day weekend without a visit to the Liquor and Rubber Balls Sports Bar (LRB’s), where Don Tequila stoically presides the entire 3 days.
Once I ask him if he if he owns the place. Many times I’m there when he shuts it down in the early morning, gently evicting sleeping drunks from the bar, and I also see him open up several hours later, rousting the barflies off the front steps. This suggests serious ownership. He glares at me. “You got it wrong,” he growls. “I don’t own this bar. It owns me.”
Perched at the bar all day, DT finds himself watching teevee sports and news programs. He also reads a lot of newspapers, more even than me. So I like talking to him. I ask him about the vice president business, which, with McCain’s barbecue going on, is a big part of the weekend news.
“Well, forget all this Charlie Crist crap,” he says. “No way that guy is part of the equation.”
Why not, Don? That gives him Florida. He needs Florida.
“Yeah, he needs Florida. What he don’t need is a fag on the ballot. Thirty seconds after he tells the world it’s McCain/Crist, 3 dozen upstate Florida fags call the newspapers to tell them how a Greek governor’s gism tastes like grape leaves.”
Whoa. Dolmades. Is this what he means by a “bachelor lifestyle?”
“I personally know 6 guys who have sucked his dick, okay? Including a professional wrestler . He wants a fag, might as well get Jimmy McGreveey from Jersey. Or Condo Rice. Not the way to go for the Repubs this time.”
Well, who then?
“Maybe Jew Lieberman. Put a wedge between the Jews and the Dems. When it comes to Israel, Jews don’t trust that ‘schvartze.’ Could be he’s a Muslim, right? Maybe John Kerry. Return the favor, reach across the aisle, shove it up Bush’s ass which both McCain and Kerry would like to do.”
Don Tequila thinks outside the botox.
“Thing is, McCain’s gotta come up with somebody to get the votes he can’t. He’s got the whole Bush agenda to overcome. Eight years of fuck ups and complete incompetence. Bad economy. Stupid war. Morons and corruption at the highest levels. Religious fanatics — they both got that problem — and he also needs a younger person.”
I drain my drink as Don Tequila pours us both another one. I love this bar. Across the way, two beefy tattooed lesbians compete at tonsil hockey.
“Anyway, I know who he oughta ask. And I know if he does it’s a done deal. And I know it’s the only real genuine shot he has at winning this thing.”
Don — the world awaits your wisdom.
“Hillary Clinton. He asks her, she accepts. It’s her only chance at the White House. He gets all the moron white redneck working schlubs in Pennsylvania,, Ohio, and the south who won’t go for the elitist black dude. Obama wants no part of her. And she wants it badder than life itself. ”
Don. Dude. You’re fucking out of your mind. Thats….brilliant.
“Yeah. And picture Bill with Cindy and Anheuser Busch. Best Washington match since Jimmy Carter and Billy Beer.”
We toast. I love America. My flag is flying outside my house. And drunk and happy, now I’m thinking of voting for Bob Barr.