The Price of Cigarettes.
If Irma Bombeck was right and the grass is always greener over the septic tank then everything must be coming up roses at Checkpoint Charlie’s tonight. I am sitting next to some Congolese arms smugglers.
If you think Esplanade Avenue is beautiful during the day, it is enchanting at night.
Someone is here to do his laundry—-clothes, not money.
Cigarettes cost $10.00 per pack at Checkpoint Charlie’s. Is this a good price? I do not know. I do not smoke cigarettes. I also do not know where the next nearest place sells cigarettes at 3:00AM.
Lighters cost a dollar at Checkpoint Charlie’s. That seems like a remarkably fair price to me.
American Spirit, Marlboro, Camel, Parliament (of all brands!), Kool, and Newport. These are the brands available, by the pack, at Checkpoint Charlie’s. I am surprised they do not offer loosies. I am sure there is a market for them in this crowd.
I have changed seats three times in fifteen minutes.
The gun runners left soon after I arrived. They were in my usual seat so I had to sit at the far end of the bar, which I would normally like but the catbird seat at Checkpoint Charlie’s is located next to the men’s room. After the Africans skedaddled, someone immediately took my regular seat. I moved to the other end of the bar. The stink from the men’s room was too much for me.
As soon as I had settled into my new seat and started writing this, some skinny, crying woman with blue hair sat next to me. She gave me a start. We are all God’s children but I am in no mood to perform a corporate act of mercy, comforting the sick. It is 3:00AM. Her friend with the smallpox scars can take that job.
I moved to the table by the window. It faces the front door so I can see the flotsam and jetsam that randomly washes in. Every time I come to Checkpoint Charlie’s I am reminded of Dick Tracy’s Rogues’ Gallery.
Well, well, well… Look at who just walked in.
Hello, California Girl! We exchange air kisses close to each other’s cheeks.
California Girl shared my table. Considering the other options, sharing my table was probably the most desirable seat in the house. The barstool closest to the men’s room is still open, as is the men’s room door.
I don’t think I have ever seen the men’s room door closed at Checkpoint Charlie’s. It opens right to the urinal. You can see all sorts of things at Checkpoint Charlie’s if you have open eyes. If you have never been to a place like this, you are lucky.
I wish Morning Call was open 24 hours again. I would go there. Even Bud’s Broiler. Anywhere would be better than Checkpoint Charlie’s, and, yet, here I am, staring into the abyss that a path of poor life decisions leads to.
More to follow…