A Night with Tequila
[Post, San Francisco: -- l969
And the Poem: November Grass
I was in-between going into the Army, which would bring me to Augsburg, Germany, and then on to Vietnam, and leaving San Francisco, where I had lived for a year, and practiced karate with the famous Gosei Yamaguchi, and worked for the famous cloth designing company, Lilli Ann. Thus, leaving San Francisco, I had went down to Southern California to meet with my brother, he and I then ventured down to Mexico for a day where I bought a bottle of tequila, with the worm in it. This would prove to be an adventure in itself, with an unforgettable night, linger in the future; notwithstanding, I will leave out the trouble that took place in Mexico, and be thankful we got out in one piece, and with my bottle of Tequila: and leave it at that, but let me add, the beer was heavy, and we almost got in a fight with several Mexican Soma -type looking wrestlers. In any event, we did make it ou t alive, as you are reading this, and therefore I must have.
And then on to [bask to that is St. Paul, Minnesota our home city and state; --my brother, myself, his wife and two-kids went by car, and yes I carried my bottle of Tequila, all the way. I had never drunk the stuff before, and figured Id save it for a special occasion, hoping it would come soon. Plus, it would be a new experience for me when I did drink it, that is to say, showing everyone that damn famous worm, everyone talks about. When you moved the bottle of Tequila aboutyou could actually see the worm floating every which way.
We spent a day in Salt Lake City, Utah, as we had found a cheap, small motel close to the inner city; my brothers wife got chased back to the motel for being out past 10:00 PM without her husband, as she was trying to buy some groceries.
I think we had a good laugh on that, that evening.
I didnt see much of the city, although I did look for a few bars, I guess ev erything was either underground, or they had some secret black market where they hid the booze, but there was no chance for a nice cold beer, I figured that out quick. In any case, the night came quick, and we all slept well; the morning came quick also.
We took turnsthat is, my brother and I took turns driving his car over the long dusty roads, but the weather was pleasing, a bit warm yet it made driving comfortable.
When we arrived in St. Paul, it was but a few weeks before my brother decided to head on up to North Dakota, Grand Forks, to help put in a cement platform, for a garage in, helping out his father-in-law. I told him Id go along and help if he didnt mind, and it all seemed quite productive, for the most part. And when the day arrived to leave --yes again, I carried my bottle of Tequila all the way to the Dakotas with me: almost as if it was a gift from the gods.
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As we arrived in Grand Forks, we all stayed at my brothers father-i n-laws house, the very house we were to do the construction work at, in the back yard. The hot weather was starting to leave the Midwest, and the cooler air was coming down from Canada, as September crept in slowly. It was a good time to work the construction part, that is, without sweating to death. The Midwest was extremes, hot in the summer and cold in the winter. In fall, it was perfect, especially for construction.
As I got to meet the rest of my sister-in-laws family, I think I must have been saving this bottle of Tequila for this occasion, for I had a sense it was not going to make it back home. I had hid the bottle in my brothers car, and drank beer the first night I was there with the rest of the relatives. His wife had several bothers and we all sat around getting drunk, --talking about how we were going to go about building the wooden frame of the foundation, to pour the cement for the garage: that is, the ground work was already done, leveled and the wooden frame needed to be made, this could be done quickly in the morning with long two-by-four boards, thereafter, wed do the cement work, and then wed stay an extra day and have a get together, kind of celebration. It all sounded grand.
During this time I had met Paula, a friend of the family. I was twenty years old, and she was seventeen, we both seemed somewhat attracted to one anothertime would tell.
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As we worked all day the following day on the cement, digging a foundation, putting up sides-boards to pour the cement, and measuring, along with putting in other sources of support like, stones etc., we finally did pour the cement, and it turned out better than what I had hoped for. We really did not need professionals, only a good thought out plan, effort, and a gathering of the willing.
Now it was party time. Paula told me to skip the get together with the family at my brothers wifes house, for the time being, and head on to her friend s house, and join their party this evening, and wed come back to join the family workers later, for they also would be having a party. It all sounded reasonable to me.
As we got to the party [7:00 PM Paula introduced me to several of her young friends, and I pulled out from underneath my jacket the bottle of Tequila I had purchased in Mexico, the one with the worm in it.
Paula said,
What is that thing in the bottle? As she was reading the label that said Tequila, on it, she added, I heard of this stuff, its pretty strong, isnt it?
[A rhetorical question at best Its a genuine worm alright, I clarified, adding, that is what indicates its the original Mexican thing. I really didnt know what I was talking aboutfor the most partbut whatever the thing [worm, meant, none the less, made for good conversation.
As we sat on the sofa in the living room of her friends house I checked Paula out, I liked her, she looked a little French-Canadian, that is to say, she had a natural tan to her skin, almost olive. She had short black hair, a shapely body, to include a pear like base [or underneath --about 5 3 inches tall, stunning looks, a real beauty.
We both had a few of the beers the folks at the party offered, and then I opened up the Tequila.
She asked me [pleadingly-with a touch of humor Should I try to drink the worm when it surfaces out of the bottle or see if it comes out of the bottle while I pour it into my glass, and then drink it?
Forget the glass, take a swig right out of the spout, and if you get the worm, swallow it. Thats the best way to do it. Lets see who gets to it first. We both smiled at one another, and down the hatch we drank our first, longgggg-shot. I drank about three shots at once, --along with taking some salt at the same time putting it on my hand and licking it; someone had told me to do it, it was actually a little more agreeable with the salt, the Tequila that is. And then Pa ula did the same. No one got the worm; we again looked at one another and laughed.
Ham m, we both hummed at each other.
Lets try again, I said contentedly...
As the night went on, a few of the folks from my brothers wifes family, along with my brother came over to the party to check on Paula and me. They saw we were drinking away like two silly kids. I was now 21-years old, I could legally drink, but Paula wasnt, --I think they were more worried about Paula, being 17, and I suppose I may have looked a little dangerous to my sister-in-law, being with her younger sister.
They sat by us and had a few drinks of the Tequila, and then feeling all was well and under control left us to ourselves. They were only up the block about four houses in any case, meaning, if they needed to run to her rescue, they could. I think they were afraid Id steal her away and run to Minnesota with her, --or her with me. We were just having a good ol-time, no more, no less .
At 11:00 PM, Paula asked if we should call it a night, we were both getting pretty drunk.
No, no, I said, Lets finish the whole bottle and whoever ends up with the worm is the winner. [Although the winner only got the worm.
Ok, Ok, she atheistically said, at first glance.
1:00 PM
[Halfheartedly I told Paula. It looks like my turn to drink. Yet, I could hardly find the bottle, let alone see the worm. At great length I put my hand out to grab the bottle:
Ok, here it is, I took a big drink, the worm is still in there Chick, Paula commented. I looked I couldnt see it, I must of drank it, I replied, no answer.
Morning
Paula [who has risen Who got the worm? she asked, no answer. She moved about, trying to stretch, laying on the floor next me, where she had passed out, and I on the sofa had passed out right along with her [a pause.
I think I got it, I grabbed the bottle on the floor with the Tequila label on it, it was empty, and the worm was gone.
I think I ate it, or swallowed it, and then I must have passed out, I explained to her [a little stiffly.
No, she replied, I think you tried to get the worm out, and couldnt, and there was a little substance left, and I had the next try, and got it out. We looked at each other [wearily struggling to up on a smile and started laughing. Whoever got the worm we would never know for sure? But one of us did.
I think Paula, I commented, we both ate the worm, I got half and you got half. If I recall right, I got the worm out safe and sound, and poured the rest of the Tequila in a glass, and cut the worm in half, and we both had the last drink together each getting half the worm.
Really, she said, [after listening for a moment.
Absolutely, I wasnt sure of anything, but I dreamt it or for some reason it came out naturally. Who knows after you drink a fifth of Tequila what happened to the worm, maybe it walked away. Whate ver the case, Paula was a little more agreeable with that ending to the worm.
Vietnam 1971
I had gone to Vietnam after that, it was October when I left, and November when I was grounded at my first duty station. It was November, and I remember thinking about November grass, I wouldnt have to cut it, it goes something like this [a poem:
November Grass
It seems that grass stops growing in November, in Minnesota for a while, as the Arctic winds get aroused up in the far north, in the Canadian Arctic; down to and through Minnesotathey seem to blow and chill our native soil, waiting for summer to come. November is kind of like an interlude in time, a time for reflections; October is good for watching the changing of the leaves; November, its good for nothing but watching the grass stop growing; things die in November it seems, and preparation for winter it must be, like an old man preparing to meet his maker. Its all an illusion I say, as November fads aw ay, like a dreaminto reflections, I cant remember the last one, nor care to.
Dennis Siluk books: see his book, Where the Birds Don't Sing, about Vietnam at your book sites: http://www.amazon.com or http://www.bn.com
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Chapter Story
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