Written for Fandango’s Story Starter #148, using the first sentence teaser,
and for Six Sentence Story, using the word ‘double’. Here’s my story:
She held out her arms to hug me, but I knew this wasnât my house â and she definitely wasnât my wife but she was one of the most gorgeous women Iâd ever seen and I found it difficult to resist her charms; Iâve always been a weak man âŠ. whether it was women, drugs, drinking, gambling, sex âŠ. I couldnât control myself.
Strange sensations came over me and I felt disoriented; I was sweating but I had chills, my vision was blurry, my tongue seemed huge in my mouth …. about three times its normal size …. my head felt like it was under water and my equilibrium was off, making me stumble and lose my balance, walking into the furniture and reeling yet even though I desperately wanted this goddess standing before me, I was unable to reach her.
For no apparent reason, I suddenly remembered when I got home from work earlier that day, I found a new drink in the refrigerator âŠ. 24 mini-cans of some beverage with exotic-sounding names such as Peach Bellini, Pineapple Mule, Mango Meringue, Grapefruit Paloma, Maui Sunset âŠ. and it was totally bewildering to me that I could remember those names but not where I was, who I was, who this woman was and yet I knew for a fact that I drank a couple of those cans of delightful nectar; could be thatâs what was messing with my head …. making me be so unsure about some things but entirely certain about others …. not unlike taking quaaludes (the authentic Rorer 714s, not some cheap bootleg shit), dropping acid and then popping amyl nitrate all at the same time like some who-do voodoo cocktail.
I could hear this luscious woman talking but I was unable to reach her, to press her mind-bendingly magnificent body next to mine; her words were garbled and all I could make out was the name âAlexâ which was very strange because my name wasnât Alex .⊠or maybe it was .⊠I wasnât sure of anything except that I definitely downed several cans of exquisite ambrosia with exciting names.
Holding on to the back of the sofa to keep myself from falling, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and I gasped; I did a doubletake because even though my vision was definitely wonky, it wasnât so bad that I couldnât see that I had suddenly transformed into a very attractive black man much like Michael B. Jordan when just half an hour ago I was my usual George Costanza look-alike!
Then without warning the womanâs voice started morphing and began to sound familiar, kind of like my wife Alexis and when I looked up into the mirror I was no longer Michael B. Jordan âŠ. I was back to my old self, plain old Fred Johnson âŠ. and when I looked over at the woman, that voluptuous blonde with the perfect 44 double Ds had been replaced with my short, squatty wife of 37 years; well, that sucked and I quickly determined the only thing I could do was to drink more of those tasty beverages in mini-cans and pray my gorgeous fantasy girl would return but when I yanked open the door of the fridge, I was alarmed to see there was no more voodoo juice left and my heart sank because, as always, I couldnât control my damn self, I had downed all the mini-cans of ecstasy and now it was just me and short, squatty Alexis.
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This is âI Drink Aloneâ by George Thorogood and the Destroyers
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