Thread by @HoarseWisperer

I stop in to digest the Bill Taylor testimony over a $4 Smithwicks and down from the end of the bar I hear “...Tulsi Gabbard...”.

This is not going to go well.

Just to paint the tableau, the two subjects are:

1) a white male approximately in his late 50’s with the appearance of a man who runs a small but successful New England cranberry bog;

2) a white male in his early 30’s who likely sells toner. Not copiers. Toner.

2/

I’m going to call them Ocean Spray and Ricoh.

Ocean Spray opens by saying he lives in “the last communist state in the country... Massachusetts.”

Again, this is unlikely to go well.

3/

Ocean Spray goes on to joke about Tulsi Gabbard being the nominee because who else is gonna win? Hillary?

He seems less than terrible despite his posturing for effect.

Ricoh seems like a talking tree stump. Dumb as a dead oak. Midnight drunk at 5 pm.

4/

There’s one patron between us.

Those following my bar thread from a week or two ago will recognize him as the guy drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon tall boy cans instead of the cheaper Smithwicks drafts.

He’s back drinking PBRs and is between me and Ocean Spray and Ricoh.

5/

I couldn’t help it. I weighed in and instantly regretted it.

“You know Tulsi is a whack, right? You do know she’s totally fine with a murderous dictator killing his own people, yes?”

Why do I do this. Frog meet scorpion. It is my nature. That’s why.

6/

Okay, sorry for the dramatic pause. There was what can only crudely be called “dialogue” to engage in.

Before going further, I’ve contemplated how Ocean Spray and Ricoh came to be at a bar during business hours drifting into happy hour.

7/

The only logical theory is that Ocean Spray’s small but successful cranberry bog consumes a fair amount of toner and he, being a wizened sole proprietor, knows if he lets Ricoh get three martinis in him, he can chisel him down $2 a cartridge.

Yes, Ricoh is drinking martinis.

8/

I like Ocean Spray. Sensible jeans and sneakers. A man who has likely worked for what he has. I have family from that stock. No malice in their sarcastic mockery of politics.

Ricoh though, he isn’t bright enough to illuminate a phone booth.

Anyway, back to our dialogue.

9/

So, I point out that Tulsi has an affinity for murderous Syrian dictators and the equally murderous Russian dictator who support them.

Ocean Spray gives me a “Yeah, all true...” look which betrays that he actually understands shit and is just playing to Ricoh for a discount.
10/

Ricoh, over the top of his near empty martini, says “So, we should be backing Turkey.”

Pabst guy: 👀

Me: “No. They’re killing our allies, the Kurds.”

Ricoh: “So we should be backing Syria.”

Pabst guy: 👀

Me: “No. We should be backing our ally. The Kurds.”

/11

Ocean Spray, to his credit, then made an ill-fated effort to explain that Turkey is on one side, the Syrian army is on the other and the Kurds, who just want to be left the fuck alone, are in the middle.

That made Ricoh’s brain panel flash: “Error! Toner low.”

12/

And then something happened - which is always the case when you try to forcefully introduce knowledge into a Trumper’s brain - Ricoh short circuited.

PC load letter. Error. Check upper tray.

His dim bulb flickered and then went out.

13/

Having been pummeled by a simple concept, Ricoh slapped both palms down on the bar all dramatic-like and said:

“I’m gonna say something that isn’t popular...”

(Pabst guy: puts head down like “what the fuck now, dude. Shut up.”)

“Fuck ‘em.”

13/

Pabst guy lets out the most resigned sigh and stares straight down at the bar.

Ocean Spray side-eyes Ricoh.

Ricoh continues “If there’s one thing about Trump. He hates war. The guy hates war.”

Me, Ocean Spray and PBR guy: 👀👀👀

15/

I, having not yet learned my lesson that this was a disastrous decision, press on...

“Trump took 100 troops out of Syria and sent 3,000 to Saudi Arabia”

Ricoh: “Nobody fucks with Saudi Arabia!”

Me: “They got bombed by Iran three weeks ago. They’re in a war with Yemen.”

16/

Ricoh: “Yeah, but nobody messes with them.”

Me: “Then why do they need our troops?”

Then Ricoh appeared to do a hard reboot where his motherboard reset and powered back up slowly before spitting out a test page.

17/

In the silence, Pabst turned to me and gave me a “Let’s just go ahead and not talk to that idiot. Let’s do that.”

And then, friends, wisdom and maturity settled in... and I got up and moved to the other end of the bar.

And as I did, I heard the words “Hunter Biden...”

18/

Pabst looked at me as I was picking up pint and coaster and said “Smart move.”

He stayed put. Hasn’t looked at Ricoh and Ocean Spray once. Head down. All Pabst, all the time.

Me, I’ve got a new pint and the comfort that local police won’t be summoned on my account.

19/

Relocate to a new stool and, I swear to fucking god, the very first words I hear:

Man: Costs a fortune here. Too bad we aren’t in Canadia.

Woman: Canada? There’s a six-month waiting list for chemo there.

Canadia. He said Canadia.

Come on, Hoarse. No scorpion. Stay silent.

They turned their conversation to safe topics. And with that, I have been saved of yet another frog-meets-scorpion mid-river swim.

Thank god.

If nothing else, my crowdsourced beers pay a public dividend. So there’s that.