I recently met myself from 7 years ago. Before we spoke, myself from 7 years ago hit me in the face. The punch was only moderately painful, as myself from 7 years ago was drunk at 2 in the afternoon. Here is the conversation that ensued.
Today: What was that for? (meaning the punch)
7 years ago (7ya): Look at you? You deserved it. You look like a guy that should get hit just on principle. You didn’t even fight back you fuckin’ coward.
Today: First off, you hit like a girl, and it would be unfair for me to fight you when you’re obviously drunk already, and you’re me, so I don’t want to fuck past me up too bad. I am you in the future by the way.
7ya: Fuck off. No way are you me. For starters, your hair makes you look like a prissy princess with a heroine problem.
Today: Yea, you always had a problem with any guy that had long hair.
7ya: What’s the deal with the long hair then asshole?
Today: You’ll find out in a couple of years that girls dig long hair. Not all girls mind you, but the hot kind that will end up sleeping with you, will find your long hair poetic or snowboarder chic. Also, it makes you look younger than you actually are, which women generally prefer as you get older.
7ya: So you just changed it to get pussy?
Today: Yea. Pretty much.
7ya: I can dig that. Also, you fuckin’ wear glasses?
Today: My eyesight has suffered over the years, and I stare at a computer screen writing all day, so if I don’t use them I get awful headaches. To be fair, I only wear them when I’m writing.
7ya: Yea I have a headache all the time too.
Today: It’s because you’re always hungover.
7ya: What the fuck is wrong with drinking?
Today: Nothing. You just don’t have to black out every night.
7ya: I can handle my booze.
Today: In some respects you can. You can probably match anyone drink for drink. This will not change. The difference is why would you want to lose large portions of your life to alcohol induced black-outs? Just to prove you can drink like a champ?
7ya: No, I’m not trying to ‘prove’ anything. I just love to drink. Also, only pussies count, and sometimes I just lose track of all the drinks I’ve had. I drink until the bar is closed or the alcohol is gone or everyone else has gone to bed or passed out. This usually means I either black out or whatever. I drink a lot. Big deal.
Today: That’s fine, but you’ll stop feeling that way soon, plus no one wants to fuck a lush.
7ya: I don’t think so. Lemme guess, you drink like a pussy now, is that it?
Today: Depends on what you mean by a pussy?
7ya: You never take shots and you are always nursing a beer or drinking some girly concoction like a buttery nipple or a vodka tonic.
Today: Not sure why you think a Vodka Tonic is girly, but I drink a lot of Scotch now. You’ll learn to love Scotch soon too. Especially single malt. Very tasty. Bourbon will be fun as well. Gotta love the bourbon-preferably Makers Mark or Knob Creek but Jim Beam will do in a pinch. Actually I drink a lot of Ol’ Fashions now, but you’ll probably think that’s a pussy drink too.
7ya: Sounds sorta pussy.
Today: Well it’s basically just bourbon and bitters with some maraschino cherries and orange slices crushed up. Some people put sugar and soda water in, but I usually don’t.
7ya: Still sounds like a pussy drink. What’s the deal with all the fuckin’ cigarette’s too? I smoke a cig every now and then, but you’re doing it all the time now. Where’s your wind for basketball now? What the fuck happened to you dude?
Today: Yea, I smoke cigarettes a little more than before. I don’t exercise nearly as much as I used to when I played basketball as much as you do…or I did.
7ya: You don’t ball anymore?
Today: Sometimes. It’s hard to find the time.
7ya: What a loser. I see you aren’t fat, so at least you haven’t become the fat guy, but playing basketball will always be fun.
Today: It sill is, I just don’t have time. I (I mean we) are blessed with a great metabolism in that we can eat whatever we want without the consequences normally associated with that behavior–like obesity. We will always be skinny. No matter what we eat. I still eat Chipotle almost every week and I love fried chicken.
7ya: Fuck yea! That sounds more like me. You still getting fucked up on any substances other than alcohol? By the way, have I called you a pussy for the drinking thing yet?
Today: Yea, you’ve already mentioned that I’m a pussy. I occasionally (i.e. when the time is right) partake in some party favors.
7ya: Where can I get some?
Today: When you move to New York, they will be delivered to your door.
7ya: Oh, I get pot easily now. I am talking about some X, some blow, some hallucinogens specifically some fungus.
Today: Like I said, you can get just about anything delivered to your door. The boomers are still impossible to find, probably more so for me since I’m not going to shows anymore.
7ya: What!? Why the fuck not? I was thinking about becoming one of those shakedown street merchants that follow bands around.
Today: Well, read this.
7ya: What you blog now?
7ya: I would never sell out…(thinking about the first person usage)…what the fuck man. Why did I sell out?
Today: To be fair, you..err..I…didn’t sell out. It’s the only way to get work writing these days, but it’s not that lucrative. And no, you aren’t gonna write that novel in college you always told yourself you were going too. Mainly because you are too fucked up on alcohol and god knows what else, to actually sit down and write. Don’t worry though, print media is almost dead.
7ya: Fuck you. I still read the Washington Post every day.
Today: You basically just told yourself to fuck off. You’ll start reading everything online soon.
7ya: Whatever. Well since this hair thing worked out, I’m gonna be getting a lot of pussy in NYC right?
Today: Well, I moved up here for a girl.
7ya: You definitely aren’t me. I’m not exactly setting the world on fire with all the women I get, but I am getting laid, from multiple women. What the hell man? I’ll never settle down.
Today: Well, actually, one of your current bartenders is the girl in question (I won’t tell you which one because that will fuck up the space time continuum). And, she’s smarter than you are, and you’ll realize you’re in love with her and you’ll follow her up to NYC.
7ya: That sounds nothing like me; although, I know a lot of cute bartenders. This is a really depressing conversation.
Today: For both of us. I forgot how much of a punk I was.
7ya: (Swings wildly at me and misses-by a lot).
Today: Take care of yourself. Always wear a rubber, especially with that weird girl you meet in a couple months at Lucky Bar. That’s all I can tell you. Peace.
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