Please Die & Everything – Part 4: Fuckin’ Lenny
On the off days from my main two jobs, I still did the sales job whenever I could. We all hung out outside of work to various degrees as well. Something must have happened to Lenny’s car at some point because I remember giving him rides occasionally. He did the same for me when I didn’t have a car, so he’d earned it.
This dude begged me—literally begged me—to take him all the way across town so he could see his girlfriend for like twenty minutes. It was only because of this prolonged, pitiful begging that I finally relented and took him. As we began the drive, I must provide the context that it did not appear that Lenny had anything on his person.
We were driving.
“Thank you, thank you,” he said.
“Yeah it’s cool, I guess. Just try not to take forever because I have to work tomorrow, you know.”
“Yeah man, I get it.”
I let the silence ride. Dusk began to fade into night. The last bit of light was leaving the sky. We were on a long stretch of a lonely two-lane road. There weren’t too many cars out that night. The only investment I’d made into my new-to-me car was a fifteen-dollar tape adapter, but I got it from my new job at the electronic store, so it was like five bucks after my discount. I had music playing—I always did. If I had a friend in the car, I’d keep it low enough not to inhibit conversation.
“I love this song,” Lenny said.
It was a song he had introduced me to. It was maybe the only musical thing we had in common.
“Yeah, I know. Me too,” I replied.
It was a damn good song.
Silence again, except for the music. As we cruised through that serene little slice of Kentucky—stars starting to shine in the night sky, as the trees became clouds of black that whizzed by on the ground—the peaceful silence was broken by an unmistakable sound.
Krrchhhk!
That was the sound of a can being opened. I looked over at Lenny, who I could’ve earlier sworn didn’t look like he had an entire unopened aluminum can just in his fucking pocket, and this mother fucker is hunched over with puckered lips about to take a sip of a PBR, which, hailing from Chicago, I was sure was responsible for 70% of all beer sales.
“Dude, what the absolute fuck do you think you are doing!?” I yelled, breaking the silence.
“Dude, what? It’s just a beer!”
“You can’t have an open container in a car!”
“I’m not even driving!”
“It doesn’t matter, that’s still illegal! Did you seriously not know that!?”
“No, dude. Sorry. Here, I’ll chug it.”
“No, don’t chug it, get rid of it!”
“Well, I’m not going to waste it!” he said, immediately before shotgunning the beer in about nine seconds.
“Fine, whatever, just throw it out the window.”
He did so.
“…Thank you!” I said, clearly frustrated.
I sighed—let the stress out—got back to driving. Hopefully, it would just be a chill drive again. I thought about how maybe it could be theoretically possible that this dude could’ve been sheltered enough—in just the right way—that he might have missed that it’s illegal to have an open beer in a moving car. He was still fairly young. I believe he was nineteen—maybe twenty—which reminds me that I’m not sure how he readily had access to beer at that age. But either way, that was done. At least he knew now. Nothing bad happened. I’ll let it go, I guess. The silence breathed again. I was back to focusing on the road and the peaceful Kentucky night sky.
Krrchhhk!
I look over, and this motherfucker has another beer in hand.
“Are you absolutely godamn serious right now?!”
“You said to get rid of the beer! I’m getting rid of the beer!”
He began to chug.
Steven Grey is a musician, writer, and artist hailing primarily from Chicago, where he lives with his very good dog, Koda. He graduated as a film major and has worked with noteworthy writers and directors throughout the industry. Steven is the lead singer, primary creative force, and sole lyricist behind the band Shards of Grey, which led to his becoming a producer for several other musical acts. Blending these two art forms, his first album with Shards of Grey and his first book are tandem concepts that tell the same story through the lens of different mediums.
Perseverance: The Making of a Musician (a novel) by Steven Grey is now available for pre-order at https://www.magicaljeep.com/product/perseverance/200
Additionally, check out some of the audio from the Perseverance album! https://shardsofgrey.bandcamp.com/track/please-die-everything
1 comments
Niiice