It was 7 years ago that my uncle taught me how to pick up women. Twink. That's what I called him. That's what everybody called him. I didn't even learn his real name until his funeral. He was one of those unrelated uncles, but his birthday was the day before mine so we had a bit of a bond and extended birthday parties.
I arrived on Oct. 16, his birthday, in the afternoon. He had already been partying for two days. What can I say? He was like the living embodiment of Dionysus. Crazy hair, always smiling. Live hard, drive fast. A good man.
I found him in the 'garage' section of his house modifying the frame from a volkswagen to build another trike. I say 'garage' section because he lived like the free spirit he was. He had moved two mobile homes into a V shape and built a roof to cover the gap. Which actually made for a very nice bar/garage combo. Every mechanics dream.
As always he was happy to see me and I had brought him a few metal flames that I had cut out at the laser shop at work. He was always building new, random things and little stuff like this always gave them more character. He wanted to start a business called Twinker Toys to sell them. He mumbled in his unique, normally slurred, voice about everything from elaborate motorcycle mailboxes to small mechanical kids toys.
Over the next 3 hours he told me about all his ideas as he drank and people started arriving for his 'official' birthday party. When it started getting dark I remember helping him start a car that was dedicated to running the lights via the battery. This was back when gas was considerably cheaper and, after a few tries, the house lit up from one side to the other with mismatched lamps and rope lights. It definitely had a carnival look to it; crazy, but fun.
I would have to guess that most people aren't up to this type of craziness, but for all of you people that didn't know me in high school this wasn't that far out of the ordinary. City life where I live now is significantly different from this. There were some similarities; singing, dancing, drinking. But on the other hand you rarely see target practice going on at night or someone pulling the motor out of a car outside in the lawn with a tree, a chain and a flashlight. The weird part was that these people actually knew what they were doing. By morning the car was fixed and no one was accidently injured in the crossfire. Maybe Dick Chaney should have been drunk during that hunting trip.
Anyways, I tried to mingle, but there was always so many people at these things that I didn't know. I always ended up just wandering around for a while until I ran across someone I knew by name, but that night I ended up finding Twink again before anyone else I knew. He was outside by the picnic table telling jokes to a small crowd.
I didn't hear them at first because of the loud classic rock music blasting from the living room inside, but as I walked up everyone was laughing and puffing their cigarettes. Twink took a drink of his beer as he turned to me. He held up his right hand like a native american greeting of some sort. I did the same. With him it was always just best to go with the flow. Following his line of logic was impossible. I just held my hand there for a second while he chugged the last of his beer waiting for him to say "How!" in a solemn voice. Instead he reached up and, using his hand, closed my all my fingers into a fist except my pointer finger so I was pointing up at the cloudy sky. Then he proceeded to firmly grab and hold my hand in this shape and aimed that very finger towards the exposed butt crack of the girl sitting cross-legged on the picnic table next to us.
It took absolutely all of my strength to NOT put my finger there. I distinctly remember thinking that he was waaaaay too strong for someone who had been drinking for days on end. I must've been only an inch away from embarrassment when he finally decided to release my hand and put his arm around me.
"C'mon" he said "I'm gonna teach you how to pick up women." I probably wasn't nearly as afraid as I should've been at the time and within a minute or two we had ditched the party in his truck bound for the local bar.
Of course with him it was like walking into Cheers. As soon as one person greeted him everyone else began to follow suit. Even the bartender did an extremely friendly Hello before asking for my ID. Twink was all over it though. "This is my nephew." he said "It's already 11:45 and I'll cover for him."
The bartender looked at my ID again then handed it back. "Ok. What'll you have?" he asked and Twink ordered for us both. After he paid we collected our drinks and regrouped at a quiet part of the bar for a second as he surveyed the crowd.
He looked over at me and unzipped my leather jacket. "Relax. Be cool. Now just do what I do." And that was when I bore witness to the secret that all men wanted to know. It was the pinnacle of God's creation. This was the absolute purpose of men from every walk of life and every corner of the earth.
I sipped my drink as he walked up to a skinny 30-somthing blonde at the bar and firmly grabbed her ass. She turned to look at him. "So what are we doing later?" he mumbled in a casual tone as he leaned on the bar and she smiled a bit.
There must've been an olive or something in my drink because for a moment I choked and coughed. By the time I recovered Twink was walking back over to me. He looked at me for a second then turned to face the bar again and pointed at a college girl waiting in line for a drink.
"She's all yours."
and he pushed me towards her.
I'm not going to bore you with what comes next, or rather, I'm not sure if I should disclose such facts online. lol. Needless to say I'll never forget the night that someone ditched their own birthday party to take me out drinking. His wife was so pissed when we got back that he stayed at my house that night.
Sadly he died last year. He hit a deer at night while driving one of his trikes. I had to borrow a car and lie to my job to get the day off just so I could be there for his funeral. I got there late, but when I arrived I thought I was early because of all the people standing around outside the church. As it turned out there was no more standing room inside the church and the sermon was already underway. It was a small-town church and it would take me more than a paragraph to explain how to even get to the small town where the procession was held, but there were more than 200 people attending, including the bartender from that night. He wore a suit even. Said that he couldn't miss the event, but that Twink would never recognize him in such attire so it was win-win. I felt like it was the appropriate sense of humor for the legend that is no longer with us.
