Sweet Hitchhiker

Humor by: Bill The Butcher

The long and winding road

It’s been a long eighteen months, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. In January of 2021 I had a health issue, but we don’t want to talk about how I got there. How we all got there! When the pandamnit hit I followed all the rules. I had almost a religious affinity for the CDC, so when they said to stay home by God I stayed home! Bear in mind, I was on point long before COVID was ascertained to be a major threat. I was warning people that this was different. It may have been a flu, but it was one hell of a flu. There was a girl living at my house, and I told her that we were going to have to hunker down. This was going to be a rough ride. She laughed, and said I was funny.

Then the lockdown came. She left before it hit. She had an addiction to the game rooms in Killeen, and thought that it was business as usual. Then the game rooms were shut down. Then she came begging back. Unfortunately, I had began what turned out to be a sixty-two day isolation. No going to the supermarket. No haircuts. No cafes. Check the mail sparingly, and spray it with hydrogen peroxide before opening. But above all, do not open the door for anyone!

Binging on Netflix

I’m a lonely guy. Now, by saying I’m a lonely guy, I don’t mean like Hank Williams. I get into being alone. People get in my way. I find seclusion whenever I can. So I settled back with Netflix, wrote a lot, and checked the ever growing body count on the county website over coffee each morning. And I arranged to have whiskey put on my porch, which I would spray down with hydrogen peroxide and sip on my back porch behind a locked gate. Life wasn’t good, but it was life.

Doctor Fauci was scurrying heather and yon

At this time Doctor Fauci was scurrying heather and yon reading us the rules for dealing with the end of all civilization. Just recently I came upon a picture of him speaking at one of President Trump’s daily briefs, and I noticed something that I’d overlooked before. Being so intent at listening to every word that dropped from his lips I had originally thought that the intense glare from the president was one of concern. Like he, too, was muddling through this maze of ever changing medical data, trying to understand the full implications of this “bat virus” that was killing people in the street. But, that wasn’t it at all! With the application of time, and the unfolding events thereof, Donald Trump realized that Anthony Fauci was outhouse crazy!

Fauci was outhouse crazy

I mean, you know how a dog will cock its head when you promise him a cookie, and then pop it in your mouth? And watching videos of this from back then you could clearly see that Trump would actually lean forward slightly as if to take the podium back and thank Doctor for his time. This was the reason, after Fauci expounded cleaning counters, coffee pots, and the dog with bleach that Trump suggested just injecting us all with bleach. He was being facetious! The sad thing is, in the final analysis that’s exactly what happened. They started injecting us with bleach. They called it a vaccine!

Full blown stupid

Then came the masks. Now, bear in mind I was still full blown stupid, and tuning into The Anthony Fauchi Review every day at four-thirty Central Daylight time, Monday through Friday, glass of whisky in hand, and peroxide at the ready. I ordered designer masks. Paper masks wouldn’t do. Had to be one of them things that had a number! And you had to get a face shield too, for any of the little critters that managed to sneak by. I wasn’t going anywhere, but had a supply on hand just in case Fauci ordered us to go underground. You can never be too careful. And the body count was on steroids!

Sixty-two days in the hole

So, I measured out my first sixty-two days. Every day Fauci gave us gloom and doom, and every night I ran out of whiskey. And, I don’t want to hear anything about alcohol abuse. I wasn’t abusing alcohol, I was abusing me! The alcohol was doing fine. Then, on the sixty-third day I considered going out. I didn’t take this consideration lightly. CNN was full of scenes of empty streets and filled ERs. Would Killeen be like that? Also, was the virus waiting just outside, having been kept at bay by my chlorinated house? Indeed, my place smelled like the Bell County Jail. I considered the inmates trapped in that place when this all came down. Shucks! They were all probably dead by now.

My car had the COVID!

Slowly, carefully I crept into the garage and got into my car. Sitting in the seat of my Mercedes was comforting. Still, I brought a paper towel and my little bottle of hydrogen peroxide to spray down the interior, you know, just in case. I clicked the garage door opener on the visor and the door tumbled up. Taking a breath, and turned the key on the car. Nothing! Not even a little click. And, you know the drill. Especially with a Mercedes. Sometimes it doesn’t understand that you want to go somewhere, and you have to ask it again. So, I turned the key off, and tried again. Nope. Try the lights. Nope. Horn, radio? My car had the COVID!

Looking out at the deserted street I wondered if Pop a Lock was still in business. Surely not, but it was worth a try. To my surprise they were still there. From there it was fairly routine. Shucks, nobody else was running around so they had quite a free schedule. In about ten minutes or so a guy showed up, jumped me off, and I was on my way.

Driving around with my windows up, and my mask on

Old Tombstone had more people out than Killeen, Texas. I had to drive for thirty minutes to charge my battery so I took a look. There I was, driving around with my windows up, and my mask on. Shut up! Originality we were told that you could get COVID from someone sneezing near you. Better maintain social distance. Then, of course the droplets could settle on your counter, doorknob, steering wheel of your car, anywhere. And it was immortal. Once it landed it was there forever! The first thing coming from China that lasted longer than two weeks! Then Fauci announced that the virus traveled via aerosols. Aerosols? Freaking aerosols? You mean like bug spray? And it’s just floating around everywhere like smog in L. A. Hell yes I was driving with my windows up, and my mask on. But, I was out and around! Something had to be said for that.

Die wench

And the streets were scant. There weren’t even any cops. I mean, how were they supposed to give you a ticket? Make a paper airplane out of it, and sail it through your window? And, I found that my sex drive had bottomed out. I saw this girl with her thumb out. In days gone by I’d have run over a little old lady on a walking stick pulling over. Not now. What was she even doing out? Walking around in all those aerosols. I stepped on the gas. Die wench!

Just spray the packs down with peroxide and you’re good!

Amazingly I found the Starbucks was open. It wasn’t like open open, but the drive through was. The girl passed my ventí mocha to me on the end of a long stick with a box duck taped to it. And then looked at me crazy when I sprayed my coffee down with my peroxide. Liquor store was open too. Curbside! Just like Sonic, only whiskey. Got two. Didn’t want to have to make a second trip after already risking my life once that day. Taco Bell. Man! They had it going on! Another girl, long stick. Your order stapled up in a sack.

I was getting good at this new normal

Then I saw the supermarket kiosk was open. Guy there, sitting behind bulletproof glass with a mask on. Cigarettes! Four packs. Pushed out to me in a drawer. Like a bank. Just spray the packs down with peroxide and you’re good! Cigarettes you may ask? I had this theory. I figured the nicotine would protect my lungs somewhat, and a cloud of smoke around me would provide me with one more layer of protection against those dastardly aerosols. Hey! Give me a break. I just passed up a chance to pick up a pretty hitch hiker! Got some gas while I was there. Considered the pump being contaminated. No problem! When you finish, just wash your hands with a little gas. I was getting good at this new normal.

Bring out your dead

Gas, cigarettes, whiskey, tacos, and home! Spray the mail, make a drink, light a smoke and just wait for Doctor Fauci. There was a bit on TV about where to put all the dead folks in New York. About that time I heard the garbage truck outside, and I had a thought. You know, like back in the Middle Ages? “Bring out your dead,” and all that kind of stuff. Well, just lay them on the curb, and the city could send one of them garbage trucks, you know, the one with the big claw on it? Pick up the body, drop it in the back of the truck, mash it up a little bit, little lime, out to the sanitary land fill, I mean that’s why it’s called sanitary, right?

Side of the road

Fauci didn’t get renewed for a third season, and Trump got canceled, but we’ve all been changed. Just like people who lived through The Great Depression or World War II, or an ex-wife or two, the Apocalypse left it’s mark on us all. We all lost a little bit in that damn war. Now, sometimes at night, when I’m having a drink, I often wonder . . . whatever became of that girl on the side of the road?

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