Beer of My Own Taste

Additional Writings

love story in letters

“Deleted Scene” From the book: Dennis and Greer: A Love Story 

Copyright © 2017 by Molly Gould

May 28, 1966

Beer of my own taste,

In a cigarette and dim light softened room, the air is pulsed with stereophonic backbeat and the quiet mixture of many conversations and many voices. The atmosphere is a standard American product–these men sit in nostalgia and a companionability made possible by the loosening effects of the beer. They are probably friendly people, but they have never had this confidability and closeness with each other before. Pertinent to our barroom scene is the fact that inhibitions hold no sway upon the tongues of anyone. After a few beers a man will try very hard to have a total stranger understand what the most predominant thought in his mind is. The one slight step away from reality allows them to believe what their own idea of themselves is true, and thus feel good with themselves, as a perfectly successful man would, and to feel very warm towards others, and feel it in the interest of everyone to know of his adventures, his wit, his courage, how tough he is (these are the ones who fight when drunk, and who passive when inebriated, secretly feel that they are very good fighters) and in general they talk freely and the atmosphere is pleasant (until someone gets drunk and then the whole thing changes; they become something less that themselves). Most men need beer to feel a warmness for their fellow man, because of their real fear of people, which fear I think is in all of us, or they need a beer to blame talking about things close to their hearts upon. It’s not “cool” to talk emotionally or warmly or about what is most dear or important to you, not as a man, so the beer is the excuse, it is the accepted key to intimate conversation among men who would never think the things they talk about while uninhibited. I have sat with men who have reached this state of conversation and felt the warmth. It was very enjoyable. But Cooper could never have told me what he thought about his girl without a few glasses of beer. Not that he was drunk or not in control of his thinking, it was just that the beer in his glass made such conversation in place. And I could talk on his level just like a drinker, because I guess I’m just that way naturally, and we had a very meaningful conversation.

Thus beer of mine it is for me with you. One sip of my smooth flawless glass and my soul is open to you, and I feel all that I would be for your pleasure, and that I want to be and all that I am I give to you, inhibitor, benefactor and sweet sweet comfort to me.

Copyright © 2017 by Molly Gould

 

 

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