Sunday, September 3, 2017

hunter



hunter s. thompson was starting to detox and i could see the thunderheads rolling in from behind his eyes. the magazine crew was setting up in the next room and i don't know why, but i felt protective of him. i thought maybe i could meter his intake so he could get through the interview and photos before the worst of his demons came out to play. i put my hand lightly on his shoulder, 'hey, how does a mojito sound?'. he tilted his head toward me and looked at me with what i can only describe as the kind of visible contempt a paraplegic would show to a happy/smiley 1st year nurse in answer to, 'do we want our full-to-the-brim colostomy bag changed out now?'. after a beat, he growled, 'over there...' and dismissively gestured toward the cabinets.

i'm not sure what i was expecting when i opened his infamous liquor cabinet- but it wasn't was i saw. instead of a treasure chest full of cool old liquor bottles, the shelves were crammed to overflowing with ancient tupperware pitchers- the one quart kind with the sad, red snap-close 'pour lids'. dried dregs of cheap, sweet booze from an uncountable number of refills lined the rims. prints from drunk, dirty fingers all frozen forever in the cloudy cataracts of all that degrading plastic. every one of those pitchers may as well have been filled with piss.

i gingerly began to sniff my way through the containers trying to bide my time and give the appearance of looking for something that resembled rum. 'hurry the fuck up!' he barked. 'fill it, just fill it! mix the shit up and throw some sugar in there for my nutritional requirements!'

i sloshed three of the liquors into a dirty glass until it was 1/2 full. i didn't bother with tongs as i fished for cool-ish shards in the melt water of the banged up ice bucket. hunter looked at the glass as i was about to hand it to him, 'GOD FUCKING DAMMIT! FILL THAT FUCKING THING UP!' 

all sets of eyes belonging to the sleek new york crew were focused on us now and they were wide with fear. in silence, i let them watch me as i turned and filled his glass to the brim. after i handed it to hunter, i looked toward them, tilted my head slightly to the right in a rather fetching manner and gave a little finger-wiggle 'goodbye'.





4 Comments:

At September 21, 2017 at 11:53 PM , Blogger Safal Trading said...

Well done post regarding "hunter"

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At September 22, 2017 at 1:08 AM , Blogger shandra beri said...

Kind of you to say. Thank you.

 
At November 1, 2017 at 5:32 PM , Blogger Chris Polito said...

Enjoyed this very much. I also have a Hunter story from long ago, but it's boring compared to yours. Just a chance encounter in the Woody Creek Tavern, but you've captured his temperament perfectly.
By the way, I'm not sure if I have the right person, but I just watched "Roxanne" for about the zillionth time, and if you're "the" Shandra Beri (how many could there be?) kudos to you for a wonderful performance.
~ Chris Polito

 
At December 30, 2017 at 6:34 AM , Blogger Kanchan Mishra said...


This blog is quite different and great explanation in the easy way.

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