Edible Oklahoma City

SQ 792 Could Make Oklahoma’s Alcohol Scene Cooler

• Hazy mid-afternoons spent at dive bars- Bill & Dee’s or Mr. Bill’s, slouching off our hangovers under dim hanging lamps lost in the hot three o’clock sunlight pouring from a corner window, infused with blue smoke lingering for forty years. Our pitcher perspires beads that drip through fog concealing cold amber gold. She fills my glass and I sip. Crisp Coors soothes our sandpaper throats just as a fine song juts from the jukebox. And we drink and not talk to better waste away a gloomy summer Wednesday

• First-mowed lawn of the year thirsts throats long before tall grass blades are sheared. Sweaty socks and leafy legs grimey sneakers soiled The grating grind of an earsplitting engine cannot subdue the scent of gasoline and mulch, or the sensation of a soaked bandana tied too loosely around your forehead. Spring’s only solace is the brief sch-kuh! of a steel bottlecap on a frosty longneck of Bud (label red as a firetruck) Beer like water which washes away the thirst of labor or the longing for thirst.

• Late-night last-minute party plans that coalesce call for cases of beer: the “champagne” of High Life. We gather to gawk, escape the agoraphobia of winter’s wrathful grasp The blood orange blooms which blanket our cheeks during backyard congregations thaw with our fingers and toes when we huddle in a kitchen crowded with friends and sweatered strangers, heated in talk, clutching cold cans. Buzzed from whiskey, but not the beer, trying to feel alive in the wasteland of December; Autumn-time anxiety Restlessness for transition from sultry days to chilly nights. Brisk breathing on the Red Rooster patio Bracing ourselves with the tender malt of George Killian’s Irish Red Laughing about bad movies or overlooked albums from the eighties Large mugs gone warm as we socialize to whittle down the time. Drinking all evening, never feeling quite drunk Going home full with conversation and carbonation.