6.7 – The New Reality Assignment

For our New Realities Class the Professor gave us an assignment to Travel to a New Reality we’d never met before, and knew nothing about, and seemed like would be impossible to ever MeToo. He didn’t technically say you hadta do it alone tho, so I asked Wolf to team up with me.

“Wolf,” I said, “New Realities are my main weakness, and I need you.”

“I thought Perceptionism is your main weakness,” he said.

“Yeah, but this weakness is the one I’m most afraid of. Every time I try to talk to a New Reality I turn frozen. My whole body can’t move, and my mouth can’t say anything, and then I just end up staring until we both give up and walk away MeTooless.”

“Don’t worry, Bluebird. I’m not bad at New Realities. I once turned one into a fiancée, as you know. All we have to do is follow The New Reality Sequence, and we’ll be fine.”

“Alright, where do we go?”

“I suggest we Travel to the Realities of the most mysterious, challenging terrain we know.”

“Oh no, TheMountains?”

“Precisely. As children of the sea-level East we cannot even begin to understand what kind of Reality would choose to live in this kind of environment. It should be fascinating.”

“Alright.”

“Great, you can drive us up there, right?”

“You don’t drive?”

“No, I suppose that is one of my weaknesses.”

Then I drove us there, even tho TheMountain Roads were hard.  They don’t go straight cuz TheMountains are in the way, and if you don’t turn hard enough enough you’ll fall off the edge to the bottom.  At the same you have to go really fast or else TheMountain Reality drivers will tailgate you and honk.

We went all the way up to Little Mountain Town.  It was crammed in between two huge Mountains, and it only had one main Road.  All the buildings were made of logs and clung to the side of one of the Mountains, and it looked like they were just about to fall off cuz of gravity.

“The Mountain Realities probably live here because they’re suspicious of Plains Realities,” Wolf said. “I imagine they won’t like us finding them, and we’ll need every advantage we can get. I suggest we go to a bar and put our faith in Traveler Lubricant.”

One of the log cabins said “TheMountains Bar” on it, and we went in there. It was the middle of the day, and there were only a couple of Realities inside. One was a bartender woman, and the other was a guy who looked like a Native American Reality.

Native Americans are a Reality about being the first Realities to be in America. Most of them were destroyed in the Europeans vs. Natives Reality War.

Native American Realities are rare in modern times, and none even existed at all where I grew up. It was exciting, but I was also scared we’d get blamed for some MeNotzie atrocities from the past that hadn’t been made up for yet.

The two of them stared at us.

“Wolf,” I whispered. “I can feel myself starting to freeze.”

“Don’t worry, Bluebird,” he said. “This is the easiest part of the sequence. Introductions.”

We sat down on a couple of barstools next to the Native American Reality. He scanned us up and down.

“Plains People,” he said and looked away.

“Yeah, we’re Plains People,” Wolf said. “I’m Plains Wolf and this is Plains Bluebird. Who are you?”

Instead of answering he just said, “Plains bullshit.”

I was frozen like a Mountains snow cap, but Wolf had a furry coat designed for the Tundra and wasn’t deterred.

“You’re a Native American, aren’t you?” he asked him.

“No, I’m an Indian. Wanna know what my Indian name is?”

“Sure.”

“Shitty Hunter… cuz I’m a vegetarian, haha.”

“You’re a vegetarian?”

“No.”

“Are you sure your Indian name’s not Running Tab?” the Bartender butted in.

“Haha,”he laughed. “That’s Chief Running Tab to you.”

“He really goes by Mountain Goat,” the bartender said.

“Why do they call you that?” Wolf asked him.

“Cuz I never fall,” he said.

“Please,” the bartender said, “You were so hammered you fell off your stool last night.”

“That was on purpose for a laugh.”

“Sure it was.”

Then the bartender asked us what we wanted to drink.

“We’ll have whatever he’s having,” Wolf pointed to Mountain Goat’s bottle of beer.

“Whatever you say,” she said.

Then she opened a couple of beers and grabbed a bottle of hot sauce and poured it into the beers. Beer and hot sauce were both on my Great List of Gross Things.

“We call it a Goat,” she said and handed us the drink.

Then we raised our bottles, and Wolf did a toast.

“To New Realities,” he said, “because life would bore me without them.”

“MeToo,” I lied.

Then we clinked glasses and said, “GAM-BAY,” and drank. The hotsauce beer was the worst thing that had ever entered my mouth. It was too bitter and too stingy at the same time, and it made water come out of my eyes and snot come out of my nose. I wanted to spit it right back into the bottle. Drinking Goat could tell from my face that I thought it was gross, and he laughed.

“Common Perception,” Wolf whispered to me.

Then I knew I had to try to keep it inside me no matter what. Wolf seemed like he liked his tho. He went “ahhh” and went right ahead with the question part of The Sequence.

“So you have the day off from work?” he asked Mountain Goat.

“Nah,” he said, “called in sick.”

“Yeah, sick with The BottleFlu,” the bartender said.

“What’s that?” Wolf asked.

“It means I was drunk as shit last night, haha!”

I wanted to come in and start asking questions, too, but I couldn’t think of anything. Their Realities seemed so different from me. I would’ve been scared to miss work for a hangover, but Mountain Goat seemed proud of it. Wolf kept doing really good on his own tho. He found out Mountain Goat was a construction worker who was in Alcohol Perception every single day and lived his whole life in TheMountains hiding from PBS, or ‘Plains Bull Shit.’ Wolf also found out The Bartender went by The Cougar, because she sometimes hunted younger men for Love, and it seemed like maybe she wanted Wolf, too.

Then suddenly Wolf got up.

“Where are you going?” I said.

“Bathroom,” he said. “This hot sauce beer is wrecking havoc on my stomach.”

“What do I do while you’re gone?”

“Just keep asking questions, and MeToo them if you can.”

I was totally frozen after he left tho. My mind was like ice cream that was too hard to scoop into even tho you want to eat it now. I certainly couldn’t come up with the human language necessary to get to know someone. I looked at the hot sauce beer I was barely drinking. I thought maybe if I could get some not gross Alcohol Perception I’d be able to thaw a little.

“Can I get another drink?” I asked The Cougar.

She noticed there was still a lot left in the drink I had.

“Can’t handle The Goat?” she laughed.

Mountain Goat laughed, too. I didn’t answer.

“What d’you want instead?” she asked me.

The only thing I could think of is what I always drank at Wolf&Lamb’s.

“A Jack Daniels and Dr. Pepper with cherries,” I said.

The Cougar and Mountain Goat laughed.

“Bars don’t have Dr. Pepper,” The Cougar said.

“Oh,” I said.

“We got Coke.”

“Alright, Coke then.”

“But I ain’t gonna put cherries in it. MountainMen don’t put cherries in their drinks.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Haha,” Mountain Goat said, “PBS.”

I wanted to run out of the bar right then and never go back to The Mountains again. But then Wolf came back just in time and heard some of what was going on.

“Hey,” he growled at The Cougar, “we’re paying you to make drinks, not give us your commentary on them.”

“Oh come on,” she said, “cherries?”

“If that’s what he wants, and you have them.”

Wolf pointed at the cherries on their garnish tray.

“In fact,” Wolf said, “I like cherries, too. Why don’t you make me another drink? This time a martini. Except replace the traditional olive with some cherries.”

“You’re kidding?” she said.

“Nope,” Wolf said.

She shook her head but made the drink anyway.

“Hey,” Mountain Goat said, “I forgot I like cherries. I want cherries too.”

“In your beer?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said.

Then she handed him a couple of cherries, and he poked them thru the top of his bottle and took a drink.

“It’s good,” he said.

“Oh hell,” The Cougar said, “I actually like cherries, too.”

Then she opened up her own beer and poked a couple cherries in it.

“What was your name again?” she asked Wolf and he told her.

“Alright,” she said, “from now on a Martini with cherries in this bar will be known as ‘The Wolf.’”

Then we all raised our glasses.

“To The Wolf,” they said.

And we clinked them together and drank, and everybody liked their drink this time.

“By the way, honey,” The Cougar batted her eyes at Wolf, “You’re kinda cute. If you wanna come Love me later I’m down.”

“Thanks,” he said. “But I only Love my fiancée.”