sitting at that old booth with the creaky benches there we sat drinking the atmosphere in big and bright and loud with lots of live musicians my god were they bad at singing and the chatter between each and every table me and my sister we never got along as well as we do now were simply sitting there plates cleared glasses empty ready to take our leave and let the waitresses and busboys do their work yet there they would sit mama and papa a pair a duo a match made in heaven however youd describe it glasses in hand that golden vice that purple sin that tangy bitter hell that i was always told to get used to there theyd sit for hours on end sipping away ordering just one more then well go home but it was never so almost as if she was another member of the family that vice it wasn’t always just me and my sister sometimes thered be other kids friends acquaintances you could slice it seven ways to sunday the mamas and papas who sat at the other tables were the same way drink after drink going loopy and crazy they liked to kiss my cheek when we said goodbye weird i didnt like how they smelled after they were finished with their just one more but it was something i grew to block out other people smelled much worse of it and they were the ones who scared me not that i said anything as a child who was raised in a household of not making waves and to not say anything that would hurt other people on purpose many times i had tried to fall asleep sitting at that old booth with the creaky benches my childhood was on those benches those faux leather benches that were absolutely freezing the minute you sat down sending a zzzzing up your spine and that made your butt sweat and stick when you sat down for too long and youd have to peel yourself from those benches especially in those hot maryland summers hot maryland summers turned into hot colorado summers and by then i had learned and become accustomed to the vice i made conversation i played along i did whatever i could to keep from being bored exhausted angry at the vice that kept us places for much longer than necessary god forbid i become angry at the vice for it was a part of life for me then the match made in heaven turned hellish as mama went away mama went away to get better and god damn get better she did papa too they made a commitment to each other and to me and my sister to stop using the vice i did what i could to help mama through her recovery and i started seeing it everywhere everywhere everywhere i looked it was there mamas better now and so is papa theyre so much better and happier but she still sits in my memories being smooched on the cheek by adults i barely knew the sitting for hours the smell she sits in my memories sitting at that old booth with creaky benches
beckoning awaiting a smooch
~your children