Attempts To Become Whole Again Are Forthcoming, But First I Have Some Work To Do By Brian Polk
Art by Jason White
Published Issue 131, November 2024
The Only Time I Wish I Would Get A Goddamned Red Light For Once Is When I’m Texting And Driving
Ordinarily the inconvenience of stopping at a red light inspires moments of fleeting disappointment. Of course, this could very well be exacerbated by how many cycles it takes to get through a particular traffic light and/or how bad you have to use the restroom. But every now and again, I’ll find myself in a really entertaining text exchange, and I don’t want to have to wait to respond just because I happen to be driving at the time. And that’s when I not only hope for a red light, but I actually get mad when I don’t get one. “Another fucking green light,” I yell to no one. “When is my luck going to change?” Of course, I could pull over and finish my text exchange in a secure parking space, but I mean, come on. I got places to be.
Are You Ready To Joke About That Yet?
Remember that time your hair caught fire when you were trying to light a cigarette at the park, and we noticed before you did and dumped our beer on your head to put it out? And you got mad at us for all the beer on your person? And we tried to explain that your hair was on fire, but you simply wouldn’t believe us? Then you cried, and said you hated all your friends so much, and you wished we would just leave you alone? And after we got home that night, you saw all the singed hair in the mirror, and felt bad for yelling at us? So we dumped beer on your head again — but this time, just for kicks? And you cried yourself to sleep and swore you would never hang out with us again? That’s still not funny to you? Yeah, I know it happened last week, but you think with the passing of time, you’d be a bit more humble about it … Hmm, I see. So the answer is no. Okay, fair enough. I’ll try again next week.
One Time I Waited All The Way Until Wednesday To Get Drunk, And Then Was Disappointed When I Realized It Was Still Monday
As a bonafide old, I try to take it easy on the alcohol consumption — mainly since I have no plans to quit, and it’s not exactly healthy. Therefore, I try to take at least four days off per week from visiting my friends in the bar and having fun. And with this system, I’ve experienced contradicting outcomes. For example, the other day I was so proud of myself for making it all the way to Wednesday without even so much as wanting a drink. Once I got drunk, however, I realized it was Monday all along. The thing was, I had to work on Saturday, and I helped someone move on Sunday, so it didn’t feel like a Monday. It had a very distinct Wednesday feel. But you’ll be happy to know that I remained sober that Tuesday and then got drunk again on Wednesday, so I did make it eventually. And don’t you just love a happy ending?
The Very First Day After My Ex And I Broke Up, I Went To The Bar, And This Guy Said, “Dating In Your 40s Is Like A European Vacation: Lots Of Baggage.”
And I was like, What the fuck? The corpse of our relationship wasn’t even cold yet, and here he was telling me things were only going to get worse. Of course, he had no way of knowing that I recently broke up with my ex, but still. It was not what I wanted to hear at the time. And the worst part of it is that he was totally right. Post 40 courtship is a damned nightmare! Nowadays, when I go on the first date with someone, I feel like I could ask, “So what health issues are you currently battling?” “How much do you resent your parents for so thoroughly fucking you up?” And, “What mental health issues are currently percolating in that damaged noggin of yours?” It’s terrible. I think I’d have more fun at church.
… Just Kidding. There’s No Fun To Be Had At Church
I don’t want to disrespect anyone’s beliefs here, but I will say that I’ve never personally had a good time at mass. Then again, displays of guilt and shame were never my thing.
… I Suppose I’ll Try Again Tomorrow
I’ve been having a lot of bad days lately. And the ones that are particularly terrible, I say some words of affirmation to myself before I try to go to bed for the night. Usually, it goes something like this: “I didn’t do well today, but I’m still here. Since the only way out is through, I suppose I’ll try again tomorrow.” It’s how you know I’ve hit rock bottom. I wouldn’t be saying that shit if everything were puppy dogs and rainbows. But I’ve had a whole lot of rabid cats and lightning bolts sent my way — so to speak — so I have no choice but to rely on the one thing I never even wanted to try: positivity. As you might imagine, results have been mixed.
Brian Polk is a Denver-based writer, publisher of The Yellow Rake, and drummer for Joy Subtraction and Simulators. He’s the author of Placement of Character and Turning Failure into Ideology. He likes writing, muck raking, yellow journalism, zines not blogs, cheap booze and punk rock.
Jason White is an artist living in the suburbs of Chicago. His favorite mediums are oil on canvas and pencil & ink drawings. When he was a kid he cried on the Bozo Show. His work varies from silly to serious and sometimes both. Check out more of his work on Instagram.
Check out Brian’s October issue install with art by Jason White, Forgive Me For Not Being Upbeat, But Life Has Just Beat Me Down, or head to our Explore section to see more of their work.