United We Stand — Inauguration Day on the South End
The Pilot House Lounge was packed. You’d’ve thought the Super Bowl was coming on with half the South End turned out to watch it on the bar’s big screen, the 52 incher Fat Fred had installed at one end of the lounge just for such sporting occasions. Trouble was, this wasn’t the Super Bowl or even a playoff game, it was Trump’s Inauguration. And it was way too early to be drinking heavily, which the unruly mob clearly was.
The South End, like the rest of these not-so-United States, is more than a little divided on most issues, but with the Donald, we’re like Serbs and Bosnians. So far without the genocide, although … Fat Fred wasn’t too sure Rwanda wasn’t on its way by the time Clarence Thomas swore in the Vice President, Pence. Jimmy the Geek, not a habitual drinker, was sudsed to the gills, drinking doubles of straight Jack with a beer for a chaser.
“You’re swearing on a Bible, you liar!” he shouted, hammering his bottle in a staccato drumbeat. The big screen TV looked like a drive-by shooting when someone tossed a crumpled wad at Jimmy. “Sit down, Jim!” Terry hollered from behind him. “And be quiet. Have a little respect for the moment.”
“Are you serious?” Phil shouted back. “These guys never showed anybody any respect. Why should we?”
A table full of Viet Nam Vets where Wild Billy held court, their flag patches bristling on their black Harley vests, began to holler, answered by the tree huggers at Two Toke Tom’s rowdy table. Trump was on the screen now, his hand on the Bible Lincoln used, his wife — “an ‘illegal immigrant’ Jerry shouted from the back — holding it while Chief Justice Roberts administered the oath of office.
“So help me God,” Trump stated, then the Lounge went crazy. Fred tried turning off the TV but that suicidal move pissed everyone off so eventually he relented to cheers and a few boos. An hour later most of the surly mob had skulked off to face the music at home, a mere few moments of matrimonial hell compared to the next four of who knows what.
Two Toke said, “I was pretty worried there for awhile.” “About violence from that crowd?” I asked. “Naw, the inauguration,” T.T. answered. “That was CNN we watched. Trump already told us they were liars. Fake news. I’m gonna take him at his word. That guy isn’t president. Not if CNN says he is.” Tom waved a hand in farewell. I guess he has a point. What a few days later we call Alternative Facts. Me, I’m planning to watch the Super Bowl somewhere other than the Pilot House. Hopefully alone.
Hits: 89
He won with Fake News.
He begins with Alternative Facts.
Why don’t we just call it like it is, January 20th, 2017:
Top Quality Inaugahyde Day.
Maybe we could move April Fools Day to Inaugahyde Day too, kill two birds with one rock. Anybody asks why April Fools Day is in January, we just say it always was. Kellyanne can argue it for us.
Yes!
And as long as we’re at it, let’s move up April 15th, Tax Day as well. Then while watching Inaguahyde Fool’s Day on the big screen, we’d be much more likely to ask the big questions like, “did I get what I paid for?”
All right, then, I’ll see your Tax Day and raise you Presidents Day since after this regime we’ll be taking faces OFF Mt. Rushmore and putting just one back on with hair windswept from those Dakota winds. Hell, let’s make it a whole week!!