Wine the Great Tutor
by Mark C. Durfee
Normally I knew I would never make it over the cyclone fence. I’d never been able to climb the damn things before. But the stolen bottle of Boons Farm Apple. It makes the wary, bold and the timid fearless. I don’t know what it makes you when you’re hung upside down on a six foot cyclone fence puking out lunch.
That first time was from the cheap wine but the next two were because of the liquid smell of my own vomit crawling up my nose. Struggling, sweating, puking wine and digested lunch; all things a fat kid of 16 should not get caught up in publicly. I may have been drunk but my biggest fear was if the neighborhood pricks found me like this, along with everything else, it was going to be new shit to throw at me.
God I was tired of being the neighborhood joke, the one destined for eternal fat kid bullshit from the pretty people. Just having the same old images painted in apple wine colors made me struggle even more. The fighting stopped only when my belt snapped and I fell into the puddle of muck below. I couldn’t even remember what the hell was on the other side of that fucking fence I wanted bad enough climb it in the first place.
I learned after that to only drink with my friends; which is why after forty years I always still drink alone.