COLUMNS
86'd Stories: Sammy Reid and Jeff Dickinson
/ Jennifer Blowdryer
10.17.09
Jeff is also a talented singer-songwriter and actor, who has given me some of the best laughs of my life. He’s a tough straight guy from Kansas that gay guys go wild over. He has that thing, boy and man at the same time. When Jeff gets drunk he gets a certain look in his eye and I know to give him about four feet of space. He refers to his wild alter ego as Darryl Kravitz. Jeff’s not sweet but he’s good. Darryl, on the other hand, is a pain in the ass. I met up with Jeff at a bar in Broolyn called No Exit and interviewed him while he was drunk but not yet in full tilt rebellious mode to do my interview; he talked more or less nonstop about a particular evening in which he’d ended up having French Toast at Bellevue. Throughout the interview a drunk girl kept asking for a light and interjecting her own opinions.
Darryl: So that night I was going drinking from bar to bar. At the first bar I ordered a shot of whiskey on the rocks. A man bought me a Heineken, all the while advising me that I should not mix my whiskey and my beer. So, ignoring his opinion, of course, I went on and had more Heinekens. I played some pool, I won and I lost, and I had some more whiskey, and kept moving on, because I was, bar-hopping. I ended up somewhere down around the 50s, on 7th Avenue, and I was in this bar and I had my shoes off. I wasn’t wearing shoes at this point because I was trusting God.
I left to get cigarettes, and I went across the street, and I was trying to ask the man what kind of cigarettes he had, but he refused to tell me. He asked me what I wanted, and I said “What do you have?” and he asked me what I wanted and I said “What do you have?” I said, “Well, I want Camel Filters,” and he said, “We don’t have that.” And I said, “Well what do you have?” He wouldn’t tell me, so I had to peek behind the counter, against his wishes. He was standing right there, so it was hard, so I had to go, and do that.
Meantime, a bum was trying to buy something – Just a second. I called him a bum, but I don’t really know him. He was trying to buy something, and all he had was 90 cents. He needed 10 more cents to buy what he wanted, and the guy was refusing to give him even 10 more cents. I was so insanely angry at the man that I tore up a dollar bill and I threw it in his face, and he threw it back at me and I took it, and I put it in my pocket and I left and I tried to piss on the place, but – I didn’t have to piss. So it was just a few little ‘sssp’ ‘sssp’ and nothing else.
So, I tried to piss on the building and I succeed, in a very limited sense. Then, I try to find the bar where I had left my bag and the shoes. and I can’t, so I go walking down the street in my bare feet and I find this prostitute, and we get to talking and I’m like, “Well, I need to find my shoes,” and she’s like, “Maybe let’s try this bar.” So we go to this bar, except for it’s down an avenue which I’m absolutely sure – positive – is not the avenue I was on. We go down to this other place, and it’s very well lit and red, and I buy her a drink and I buy myself a drink. She sits at the other edge of the bar. I sit there and I’m like, “Well, why isn’t she talking to me?” I mean obviously I just bought her a drink, but that’s not the problem. I’m the problem.
I’m drinking, and I finish my whiskey. I’m thinking, “Well, where the fuck are my shoes and my bag? I have to work tomorrow. I’m teaching children gymnastics, and my uniform’s in the bag!” So I take off running down the street. I turn down the avenue. I turn up the street, and I go up to a different avenue. I see this guy that I remember vaguely from the bar where I left my shoes. I hadn’t really been looking at anybody, I was just bothering them. But I remembered looking at him. So I’m like, “Where’s that bar we were at?!” I notice that he has three hot chicks with him but I can’t really do anything about it ‘cause I really need my shoes and my bag.
He’s like, “It’s right there.” It was exactly across the street from the place I tried to piss on. I bang on the window because the bar is closed. The bartender looks through the window and sees me, holds up his fingers to say ‘just a moment,’ and returns with my bag and my shoes.
Darryl: So that night I was going drinking from bar to bar. At the first bar I ordered a shot of whiskey on the rocks. A man bought me a Heineken, all the while advising me that I should not mix my whiskey and my beer. So, ignoring his opinion, of course, I went on and had more Heinekens. I played some pool, I won and I lost, and I had some more whiskey, and kept moving on, because I was, bar-hopping. I ended up somewhere down around the 50s, on 7th Avenue, and I was in this bar and I had my shoes off. I wasn’t wearing shoes at this point because I was trusting God.
I left to get cigarettes, and I went across the street, and I was trying to ask the man what kind of cigarettes he had, but he refused to tell me. He asked me what I wanted, and I said “What do you have?” and he asked me what I wanted and I said “What do you have?” I said, “Well, I want Camel Filters,” and he said, “We don’t have that.” And I said, “Well what do you have?” He wouldn’t tell me, so I had to peek behind the counter, against his wishes. He was standing right there, so it was hard, so I had to go, and do that.
Meantime, a bum was trying to buy something – Just a second. I called him a bum, but I don’t really know him. He was trying to buy something, and all he had was 90 cents. He needed 10 more cents to buy what he wanted, and the guy was refusing to give him even 10 more cents. I was so insanely angry at the man that I tore up a dollar bill and I threw it in his face, and he threw it back at me and I took it, and I put it in my pocket and I left and I tried to piss on the place, but – I didn’t have to piss. So it was just a few little ‘sssp’ ‘sssp’ and nothing else.
So, I tried to piss on the building and I succeed, in a very limited sense. Then, I try to find the bar where I had left my bag and the shoes. and I can’t, so I go walking down the street in my bare feet and I find this prostitute, and we get to talking and I’m like, “Well, I need to find my shoes,” and she’s like, “Maybe let’s try this bar.” So we go to this bar, except for it’s down an avenue which I’m absolutely sure – positive – is not the avenue I was on. We go down to this other place, and it’s very well lit and red, and I buy her a drink and I buy myself a drink. She sits at the other edge of the bar. I sit there and I’m like, “Well, why isn’t she talking to me?” I mean obviously I just bought her a drink, but that’s not the problem. I’m the problem.
I’m drinking, and I finish my whiskey. I’m thinking, “Well, where the fuck are my shoes and my bag? I have to work tomorrow. I’m teaching children gymnastics, and my uniform’s in the bag!” So I take off running down the street. I turn down the avenue. I turn up the street, and I go up to a different avenue. I see this guy that I remember vaguely from the bar where I left my shoes. I hadn’t really been looking at anybody, I was just bothering them. But I remembered looking at him. So I’m like, “Where’s that bar we were at?!” I notice that he has three hot chicks with him but I can’t really do anything about it ‘cause I really need my shoes and my bag.
He’s like, “It’s right there.” It was exactly across the street from the place I tried to piss on. I bang on the window because the bar is closed. The bartender looks through the window and sees me, holds up his fingers to say ‘just a moment,’ and returns with my bag and my shoes.
