SHORT SHORT - SOUTHERN BOURBON BEANS

SOUTHERN BOURBON BEANS
by Jack Tom
She called me up on the phone and said, “I’m so low on money right now I’ve decided I won’t go to the grocery store until I finish all the food in my fridge and cupboards.”
“so where are you now? Gotten to the canned goods yet?”
“hee hee. Yeah. I’m eating beans on toast. It’s not so bad.”
“naw, it’s not so bad. I’m on the canned goods, too. Right now I’m frying a can of black beans and flavoring them with cayenne pepper and Jim Beam.”
“Jim Beam?”
“yeah, I’m callin’ ‘em Southern Bourbon beans.”
“did you just make that up?”
“yeah.”
“what’ll you eat them on?”
“I’ve got some stale tortillas that I think I can make soft with a little more Jim Beam.”
“you’re wasting a lot of whiskey on food, huh? That’s not like you.”
“I don’t like me either.”
“no, no. That’s not what I said.”
“what’d you say?”
“are you drunk? You don’t sound drunk.”
“what does drunk sound like?”
“you know, c’mon. You know how you sound when you’re drunk.”
“do I sound like this? AHHH! AAHHHH FUCKKKK!! I’m SOOOO FUCKKIN’ DRUNKKK!”
“hee hee. Yeah, exactly like that.”
“ah, nice. I still got it.”
“so, are you?”
“listen, baby. We’re both eating out the last of our food. We’re broke and I’m jobless and the idea of us never being together again is worse than the idea of gouging out my eyes with dull pencils. Of course I’m drunk. How else could I make it through?”
“oh, god.”
“listen. I gotta go. These Southern bourbon beans are just about done. I’ll talk to you later.”
“all right, Jack. goodbye.”
“see ya around.”