So a while ago, hmm I guess last summer, my buddies and I
went to see Terminator 3. When we go there, we were talking
outside the theatre when suddenly disaster strikes. One of
my buddies, we'll call him Putz, notices his ex gf is present
as well. Suffice to say their previous parting was of less
than pleasant terms, anyhow she comes over and I guess she
wanted to talk to him but initially had to snub him, cuz she
says "Hi Chris" (why me I'll never know). Now this is an awkward
situation, I don't really know her at all, aside from stories,
and I try to take those with a grain of salt. Still, I can
see from Putz's _expression that he doesn't want to talk to
her at all, so I go into babble mode. I don't really remember
what I said, but I've heard it described as "awesome" and
"amazing", I stalled her long enough and her friends, wanting
to go into the theatre, called her back. It was a close call
though, I couldn't have held out much longer. So it came to
me that maybe I ought to create a fine tale of fiction that
would serve as a wonderful stalling tactic if ever such future
occasions should surface. Enter the Winona Story. This is
an account of a trip I never really went on to a party that
never actually happened with people I never really met, with
one exception, because the best lies always have a grain of
truth in them. So without further ado, the Winona Story:
Probably one of the craziest stories of coincidence that ever
happened to a guy, my trip to Winona last summer was one messed
up affair. Before I get to the trip itself, you need a little
preface. I had this buddy from an online game I used to play
who lived in the States, but as it so happened he came up
to Toronto in July and we met. We got along pretty good, and
he said I ought to come visit him some time down in Winona
when he got his own place. I'm pretty stingy, and didn't want
to pay for transportation, but later on in early August it
turned out that he really wanted me to come down, so he offered
to drive up and grab me, then drive all the way back. I was
a little surprised, but said sure what the hell, I'll even
help pay for the gas. In truth I was really shocked because
on his previous trip, this guy, whose name is Carl, had had
numerous car problems, including his battery dying on the
way up, and had been for the most part miserable about the
state of affairs with his automobile. None the less, he did
indeed drive up, and much to our mutual surprise, the drive
went without incident. When we got to his place down in the
crazy land of America, it was revealed to me that by "place"
he really meant "hovel". The guy's apartment was about as
shitty as shitty apartments come. Luckily it turned out that
instead of having a party at his shitty hovel, we were going
to go to the house of his buddy Thomas, which was an abode
of fine splendor, a palace compared to Carl's lonesome cave.
I'd tell you about the finer and lesser points of Winona,
but really the best part of this story is the party, which
resulted in strange coincidences and a touch of irony that
could come right out of a book.
We arrived at Thomas's place around 8 I guess, I seem to recall
the time zone being different and I didn't bother to change
my watch (after all, I was only going to be there for a few
days). We'd picked up some lousy American beer on the way
(it was all they had) but left it in the truck when we went
in (this becomes more important than you'd think). Anyhow
it turned out there were only a few people there, but I was
ok with that since they were all fresh faces to me. There
was Thomas of course, who was goddamn tall, maybe 6'8, I asked
him if he played basketball and he laughed and said if he
had a bullet for every time someone asked him that he could
have stocked World War 2. There was also Freddy, who I think
was already drunk when I got there, but he was polite enough
so I didn't care. There were two other guys, Mo and Bill,
but they didn't really have any impact on the events of the
night so I won't bother talking about them. There were two
girls there as well, I can't remember one's name, maybe it
was Cindy or something, but the other one, Claire, was in
contrast the sort you could never forget. She was only 16,
but if you want to talk about perfect curves, she had them,
but on top of great looks she was also smart and could play
the guitar like a demon. It was clear that with six guys drinking
she was going to be the focus of a lot of attention. Realizing
that she'd probably be happier with five drunk idiots pawing
at her instead of six, I made a mental note to remain respectful.
But anyhow I'm getting longwinded here so I'm going to fast
forward a bit. Carl, myself, Thomas, and Bill were sitting
around listening to Claire play her guitar. Mo was off with
Cindy or whatever her name is I guess, and we all kind of
forgot to pay attention to Freddy, who by this point was insanely
drunk. As it so happened, Thomas kept a BB gun lying around
for some reason, and Freddy happily stumbled upon this, along
with some ammunition conveniently nearby. So we're sitting
there listening to Claire, when suddenly the gun starts going
off. One important thing to note as this point, is that the
subject of the beer we bought come up at one point, and Thomas
kindly volunteered to go get it, so Carl tossed him his keys
and we thought no more of it. Anyways, back to the gun going
off. We look around and Freddy is firing it out the goddamn
window for some reason, happy as a pig in shit. We run over
and get him to knock it off, yelling and all that rot, and
finally call a cab for dear Freddy who is asking what's wrong.
Now at this point in my narrative, I have to relate some facts
we only found out months later (well, Thomas found out, I
heard them through Carl since I was long since back in Toronto).
It turns out Freddy's shots didn't all hit air. Some guy,
we'll just call him Carlos, cuz I like Carlos, was taking
his dog out for a midnight stroll. Anyhow he's walking along
when these bullets start whizzing by, and suddenly he sees
his dog keel over and go quiet. He panics at first, but the
dog was alive and not bleeding anywhere, so that was good.
None the less Carlos is pissed, and he got a look at Freddy
in the window of the house before we pulled him away. I guess
Carlos was one of those fellows who can channel his rage in
cool meticulous fashion though, cuz he didn't just go apeshit.
He walks up to the house, and sees none other than Carl's
truck out front. He pulls out his trusty switchblade and is
like, fuck these guys, and slashes one of Carl's tires. But
I guess this guy Carlos has a sense of humor as well, since
he didn't slash all the tires. What he decided to do was slash
one, and then slash the spare, just to annoy the piss out
of us. Carl, however, always keeps his spare inside the truck.
Imagine Carlos's surprise when he finds the door to said truck
unlocked (as per Thomas forgetting to lock it after getting
the beer). Carlos thinks this is just dandy anyhow, and goes
in and slashes the spare as well. Interestingly enough he
didn't touch anything else in the truck. Now really I guess
this is the highlight of the story, but my favorite part is
the dog. You see, unknown to anyone at the time, Freddy's
shot hit the dog, whose name was believe it or not, Teabox(pity
it wasn't Teabag, but you can't have it all), in the scrotum.
Upon receiving this information, his brain promptly decided
fainting was the best solution. Now this is all well and good,
but what's even more hilarious about the whole affair is that
apparently Carlos had scheduled a visit with the vet not three
days hence to guess what? That's right, have Teabox neutered.
Now as much as I'd love to tell you that Freddy's shot did
the job for him, it didn't. Turns out aside from a regrettable
bruise, Teabox was healthy as a horse. Upon pronouncing Teabox
in good health, the vet promptly gave him the old snip snip.
As for us though, we woke up the next day groggy and hungover,
and it was with great frustration and well, hey we were just
downright pissed, that we found out about the tire situation.
No one else had a vehicle, and neither Thomas nor his neighbours
had a spare tire, so there we were with a slashed fourth tire
and a slashed spare, and privately I thought it was really
funny but I also felt terrible for Carl, whose past car troubles
I mentioned earlier. Anyhow Carl decides he'll trudge to the
nearest gas station, and not wanting him to head off alone
I accompanied him. And of course, in the spirit of life being
really weird, we had one final little incident at the gas
station. As we're picking up the tire, three guys walk up
to Carl and ask if he has any smokes. As it turns out, Carl
had exactly two cigarettes on him. He gives these over, and
we head off on our way. After we'd walked about 40 feet, we
here some scuffling, turn around, the the three guys have
managed to get into a fist fight over the two cigarettes.
Nothing else came of this, but it was just one more oddity
that would make for an even more amusing tale later down the
line. After that there's little else to tell sadly. Winona
on the whole is not overly interesting, or so I found it,
and I was pretty glad to head back to Toronto after a few
days, although Carl was once again paranoid his truck was
going to explode.
So that about sums up my crazy trip to Winona. Just goes to
show that when life throws you a lemon, look out, because
he's so inconsistent he might be tossing a grand piano at
you next time.
-Ritz
