Spotlight Drunk: August 2005
Montana: Alright. So what senseless bullsh*t would you like to hear from me
tonight?
KCD: Would you like to open with a statement…or…?
M: That was it.
KCD: Oh. Uh, alright. Are you from Kansas City originally?
M: No.
KCD: Where are you from?
M: The place that needs an enema more than any other place on this planet:
Oklahoma.
KCD: How long did it take you to realize you needed to escape from there?
M: Holy crap. 18 years.
KCD: What brought you to Kansas City?
M: A job. A goddam job.
KCD: And you've been drinking how long?
M: Since I was about two.
KCD: What was your first drink?
M: Beer. They put it in my baby bottle. Wait. My sister's only 14 months older
than me, and she used to steal my baby bottle and my mom would find her under my crib
drinking my shit. Bitch.
KCD: What kind of beer were your parents feeding you at that age?
M: Holy shit. Well, in Oklahoma it sucks, first of all, it's three-two beer, so
it's safe to feed a baby. What the hell kind of beer was it? Miller Highlife! And then
when I got a little older…
KCD: We're going to move on. Did you come to Kansas City by yourself?
M: No. I came with my mom. Am I doing this right? Am I answering the questions
right?
KCD: Yeah, you're doing fine. See, we just make conversation to get you
comfortable, then what we do…
M: Yeah, great. Hey. I need a shot!
(round of shots)
KCD: How old were you when you came into town?
M: 18. But my mom used to take me to these bars. Holy shit! We're at this disco
joint, up in the Northland. Anyway, I am hammered, no one ever carded me ('cause of the
boobies) and I looked exactly like my mom and everyone thought we were sisters anyway. And
I am drunker than shit, sittin' at this bar. We're bellied up to the bar. I look over to
tell her "Ma, I have to go to the car to pass out," I look over and she is
turned around licking this guy's chest! So I told the bartender "Hey, tell HER, tell
my MOM, I'm going to the car."
KCD: Where was this place?
M: Oh, it's long gone. It was in some strip mall off of Antioch. Changed hands,
then someone got shot in the parking lot…
KCD: North Kansas City?
M: Nooo. Up in Gladstone.
KCD: Uh. Right. What was your first job?
M: That's blurry. I answered phones for…somebody. Some people who had a
business that did…something. Where's my next shot???
KCD: You hang out at Buzzard Beach a lot. What was your first experience here?
M: Oh, I don't remember that, hell no. But every time you walk in it's like the
first time. This is the best bar in Kansas City.
KCD: Why?
M: Because, and I'm bad with peoples' names, but I always remember their hang-ups.
And this bar is all about hang-ups. People will tell you everything about them. It does
not matter what the hell is going on - this is the place to be if you want entertainment.
And I always sit in the corner. Or not. And I like all the crazy old people I drink with.
KCD: You hang out at some other bars. What are they?
M: I used to hang out at Downing's. I like it during football season. But they
stopped opening early on the weekends, so that kind of sucks. But Jeff is the best
bartender ever. Bartenders are important. I love my bartenders in Kansas City. Every damn
one of them.
KCD: Can you tell me your top three favorites?
M: YES. Oh. Wait. Hang on. Yeah. I can. I can. And they're Dennis and Scotty from
Buzzard Beach, and Jeff, from Downing's.
KCD: Have you ever been arrested?
M: Once.
KCD: What happened?
M: Oh. You want to hear this story? Holy shit. This story is pretty funny. I was
21 or 22, and I was living with my aunt and uncle in their basement in Gladstone. Cop
pulls me over, and a second cop car shows up, and I'm like "what the hell is going
on?" and I'm drunker than shit. And I've already gone to have breakfast and coffee
and shit in the middle of the morning. Or the middle of the night. Or whatever.
He asked me to do the sobriety test, and I had high heels on, and I'm like
"Dude. I can't do this!?" And he says "well, get in the car" and I
said "do I have to sit in the back seat or can I sit in the front seat?" and he
had the front door open, and (interrupted by round of shots) oh, yeah, that's good. Oh.
So, then, we go to the police station. They never handcuffed me or anything. By then it's
like 4 a.m. and I'm sober.
He sits me down at his desk. And I'm like "do I have to go sit in one of
those jail thing cell things?" And he told me I just had to sign a piece of paper,
and I could go home, and I'm like "how in the hell am I going to get home, my car's
way the hell out there," and he says "I'll give you a ride home," and he
gives me a ride home. IN HIS COP CAR, after I got arrested. Still had to pay for the
goddam DUI.
KCD: Were you disappointed they didn't cuff you?
M: Sort of. But. Here's the kicker. We get into my driveway, and he looks at me
and tells me he's going on vacation the next day. And I'm like "what do you want? Do
you want a blow job or something? Well I'm not gonna do it! 'Cause I'm home now, so I'm
getting the f*ck out of here!"
(wild laughter)
It was really funny. You know. Funny. (awkward silence) Guess you had to be there.
KCD: Alright. A little transition. I'm not sure how much room is left on this
tape…yeah, we're running low and we've got some great stuff-
M: I'M NOT DONE.
KCD: Ok, Ok, no problem. We'll keep going.
THE END
- www.KCDrinker.com - 2005 ©
