Offer It Up

Contents

SUMMER, 1993 SATURDAY NIGHT

SUNDAY

MONDAY

TUESDAY

WEDNESDAY

THURSDAY

THURSDAY NIGHT

SATURDAY

SUNDAY

SUMMER, 1993 SATURDAY NIGHT

In the beginning God created the heavens a few other things and then Tim O’Reilly. About the same time O’Reilly was created so was Al Kolinski, Joe Dudeck, the Greek, me and of course Ann.

It all started with Dudeck. We met in first grade. On our first day of school he sat next to me and we became friends and have been ever since.

Our first grade teacher was Miss Kilty. I remember she had red hair and freckles and if you did something bad, like talk in class, or giggle, or carry on or whatever the good nuns of St. Johns thought was bad you would be in trouble. When you got in trouble with Miss Kilty she made you sit under her desk as punishment. Me and Dudeck did our share of desk time and after each visit to her desk someone would always ask, did you get to see her underwear? Everyone thought that when Miss Kilty sat at her desk with us under it she would give us a free peek. Unfortunately Miss Kilty was much too modest or even more afraid of the nuns than we were for we never got a peek, though we would tell everyone that we did. We

would then laugh uncontrollably for what seemed like hours only to end up back under her desk.

Kolinski also attended St. Johns but he had a nun. Nuns did not make you sit under the desk, they made you pray. Personally I liked Miss Kilty’s way better. Kolinski was in what was referred to as the other class. St. Johns had two to three classes of every grade and everyone referred to the class they weren’t in as the other class. This made everyone feel superior. I believe it is the Catholic way.

O’Reilly didn’t show up til high school. His old man is some hotshot with some insurance company and was transferred to Chicago from Ohio. O’Reilly always made being from Ohio sound like something special, though I doubt that it was.

Once a week the four of us would meet to drink beer. Sometimes the Greek would join us but he was usually out getting laid, or so he said.

We would meet at the Hillside Country Club along the fifth fairway behind the large willow that overhung a sand trap. O’Reilly worked here as a bus boy and would meet us after he got off work, usually around 10:30 or so.

We would then drink a quart of beer, sometimes more, talk tough, discuss sex, act strange in more ways than one, pee quite a bit and then stumble home. Since we graduated from high school this was our way to relive those thrilling days of yesteryear and plot how we would change the world once we got our chance.

Now we hadn’t gotten to the sex talk when Dudeck, who was sitting under the willow popped right up and said, Why don’t we piss in O’Reilly’s beer?

Dudeck had a knack for this kind of activity. One time he was over to the house and we were sitting at the kitchen

table and he’s fooling around with the salt shaker and the sugar bowl. Anyway he ended up putting salt in the sugar bowl. That night I had forgotten all about it till about the time the old man is about to take a drink from his coffee and he always used sugar. I was going to say something but I didn’t. Anyway he took a drink and made the most horrible face you could imagine. His face was all scrunched up like a prune. He made this terrible frown, looked at my mother and said, this coffee is terrible.

My mother tasted his coffee and knew right away what the problem was and blamed me. I just sat there, stupid like, as in all honesty it was kind of funny, especially if you could have seen his face. I tried to deny having anything to do with it but there really was no point as I was their only suspect, and a prime one at that. Fortunately the old man has a sense of humor. He simply said, don’t let it happen again.

Kolinski who didn’t like O’Reilly at all frowned and said, why should I waste my piss on that twit?

In all honesty no one really cared much for O’Reilly other than the Greek. The Greek had his own code of conduct that no one understood but him.

O’Reilly had this attitude that he somehow was better than everyone else. He thought that because he was from Ohio he somehow had a leg up on everyone. He actually believed that being from Ohio was special, and I think it was Toledo yet. To me being from Ohio is like being from Michigan. Like who cares?

Kolinski disliked him more than most as O’Reilly spent a lot of time referring to Kolinski as that Polack or simply Polack. For reasons only known to Polacks they don’t like being called Polacks. You could call them just about

anything, but not Polack. It actually took a Polack to understand that kind of reasoning.

O’Reilly also felt that because he worked at this la de da country club he was better than the rest of us. The fact was his old man belonged and that is how he got the job. A lot of doctors, lawyers and loud talkers belonged. It also helped if your wife was blonde. On Tuesdays which was ladies day at the club, all the lady members would be out playing golf and giggling and they all had blonde hair, or what they passed off as blonde hair. It actually could be a frightful sight.

The good thing about O’Reilly was that he was a good guy to have around to pull crap on otherwise we would have to pull it on someone we liked. Not only was O’Reilly a knob and a future resident of Ladedaville, he thought everyone liked him. Like he was Mr. Personality Stud. He wasn’t. He was a knob. Your basic doofus.

Kolinski turned to Dudeck, why don’t we wait til he gets here, let him drink his beer and then when he is half loaded, piss on him?

Dudeck didn’t like the idea. No it will be more fun to watch the look on his face when he takes that first big gulp.

Now about this time I really had to go. I had drunk about a half a quart and I had to go. Beer goes right thru you; did you ever notice that? However once you start to age you never have to pee again because of beer. Once you hit 45 or so you never have to pee again because of beer. My old man, for example, can drink beer and never pee. I went to a ball game with the old man awhile back and he damn near drank a beer an inning and never went to the can. It was kind of like a miracle. Of course if he had tried to go he probably never would have made it as he could barely walk, but I have a measly half-quart and I got to go. And I don’t mean a little tinkle. I mean a good hard pee.

I was all for going in O’Reilly’s beer. What did I care? It wasn’t my beer and I didn’t think he would die from it. Maybe get a little sick, but not dead. I had to go so bad I started to shift my weight from foot to foot, kind of like doing a little dance. Will you guys hurry up and decide ‘cause I can go right now.

Where do we get the empty bottle? Kolinski asked.

We’ll just pour out one of his. Dudeck always had things figured. He probably planned this weeks ago.

My teeth were starting to float to the front of my mouth I had to go so bad. There were rummaging thru the bag looking for O’Reilly’s beer. That was another O’Reilly quirk; he couldn’t drink what we drank. He had to be different. So he drank diet beer. Diet beer is a big favorite with the la de da set.

When you think about it, what is the purpose of diet beer? One third less calories? Wow. That’s like eating two thirds of a potato. And no matter what they tell you you know it is watered down. If you took a real beer and put an ice cube in it you’d get the same damn thing plus you wouldn’t have to listen to a bunch of has been jocks and what have you trying to sell it to you.

Finally they found the bottle. Then they had to spend another ten minutes fiddling with the cap. I thought I was going to die. They wanted it so O’Reilly wouldn’t notice that it had been opened. Finally they got it opened and dumped out the beer. Kolinski handed me the bottle, here go in it, not on it.

He should have never said that. In my anxiety to go I peed everywhere but in the bottle. Down my leg, on my hand, all over my shoes and all down the outside of the bottle. It was a mess but a relief. By the time I got everything all lined up I didn’t have much to put in the bottle.

Kolinski was appalled, You mean this is it? He said looking at the bottle. All that jumping around for a quarter ounce of piss.

It couldn’t be helped.

Give me the bottle. I’ll show you how it is done. He grabbed the bottle out of my hand and went behind a tree. Can you believe it? Mr. Vain. Here it is 10 o’clock at night, darker than dark and he is acting like some long lost golfer might be wandering the course looking for a lost ball and end up finding some goof pissing in a bottle. Some people are like that though; always afraid someone might see them doing something strange, like peeing in a bottle.

Well guess what? Right.

He peed all over his hand.

He came out from behind the tree real sheepish like wiping his hand on his cut-offs.

Dudeck took the bottle from him. At the rate you two are going we’ll be here the better part of the summer trying to fill this up. Dudeck then dropped his fly and peed into the bottle right there. He definitely wasn’t vain.

Along about this time I started to think about O’Reilly. I could picture the knob walking down the fairway after a hard night of bus boying looking forward to his beer and then ending up with a mouth full of whiz water.

For some reason every group had someone to shit on. I think it might be one of the rules of life. Anyway we had O’Reilly. What made it even more fun was the knob usually came back for more.

The best thing we ever did to him up til now was pants him. That doesn’t sound like a big deal but it was fun. We were laying some football after school and after the game we all started horsing around. Before you knew it Dudeck and O’Reilly were wrestling and Dudeck had the advantage and as son as he knew it he yelled out, lets pants him.

The suggestion was immediately accepted so that is what we did. Now at the time we were about 16 and when we got O’Reilly’s pants off he is wearing boxer shorts. Sixteen years old and he is wearing boxer shorts, which probably explains why he drinks diet beer. You know I bet if they ever took a survey they would probably find that most people that wear boxer shorts drank diet beer, but you never see a useful survey like that. What we usually get is should England keep the Monarchy?

Like who gives a shit?

Anyway O’Reilly boxer shorts looked like he got them Army Surplus. A real strange color. Some kind of off green-brown-tan combination. Well we kept his pants for about half an hour. He damn near went of out his mind yelling and threatening what he was going to do once he got his pants back. Kolinski took his pants and threw them up a tree so the knob would have to climb up after them

All the way up he was yelling at Kolinski, You Polack. Your day is coming. I’ll get you for this you big dumb Polack. Why he blamed only Kolinski I don’t know, but Kolinski didn’t care as he felt O’Reilly was nothing more than a twit.

Now here we were again, dumping on O’Reilly. He’d arrive all thirsty, grab his bottle, take that first big gulp and probably gag.

The three of us were drinking and peeing up a storm. We had the bottle right up to the three-quarter mark when it was handed to me. Feels kind of warm. I told them.

Don’t worry about it. Dudeck said. We’ll just tell him we bought it early and it warmed up. Should have known Dudeck would have had it all figured.

Yeah, but it won’t smell like beer. Kolinski said.

Why would he want to smell it, I wondered,

Dudeck spoke, We can take care of that by pouring in some of ours.

So that is what we did and believe it or not it did give it that old beer smell. It still felt a little warm but the knob would never know the difference.

I bet the goof is really going to pissed when he drinks this. Kolinski said.

A real brilliant statement, eh?

Yeah, in more ways than one. Dudeck answered

He won’t die from this will he? I asked

Not unless he is dumb enough to drink the whole bottle.

Here he comes.

We all looked down the fairway and there he was, the flower of the swampland, the one, the only, Tim O’Reilly. You could pick him out in the dark. When he walked only his left arm swung. His right arm was almost limp at his side occasionally bouncing off his right thigh. He was also smoking. He was the only one of us that smoked and I do believe it stunted his growth as he was only about 5’ 6", but he thought he was taller. Short people always think they are taller and bigger than they really are. Basically only their mouths are bigger. They talk and usually to the wrong guy. Then they get cold cocked and they can never figure out why.

Now when he gets here, Dudeck instructed, act innocent. Just hand him his bottle and then stand back, but not too far back as to make him suspicious.

O’Reilly arrived, hi guys. He loved saying that. It was his official greeting. We all mumbled back our greetings and looked at the ground. It is kind of hard to look someone in the eye who is about to drink your piss, if you know what I mean.

Got my beer?

Yeah. Dudeck reached in the bag and came out with his beer and handed it to him.

Feels warm.

Bought it early.

Oh. O’Reilly didn’t even wait to listen to Dudeck’s lame explanation. He just wanted to start sucking down the brew.

He opened it. In his anticipation to get at it he didn’t even notice that it had already been opened.

He raised the bottle to his mouth.

Here comes the good part.

The three of us were intent with our watching. Like this was better than a good strip show. Not knowing exactly how O’Reilly was going to react we all started to inch a little further away from him. We were in about a five-foot radius when the shit hit the fan, or to be more accurate, when the piss hit the mouth.

I couldn’t tell how much he swallowed but he had the bottle up to his mouth in a drinking position. Then with a suddenness I had never seen before the bottle came away from his mouth with a jerk, followed by a flow of piss and beer. He looked like a broken faucet.

I took a quick glance at Kolinski who was watching it all expressionless. You would have thought he was watching a dumb parade. I looked over at Dudeck and he had this quizzical look on his face, like he was wondering O’Reilly might be enjoying this new taste sensation.

Then in a voice that started down around his toes he screamed out, Ooooooooooooh my god! Who pissed in my beer?

Kolinski still expressionless asked, how do you know it is piss?

Maybe he drinks it all the time. Dudeck suggested.

I didn’t say a thing. I was kind of surprised that O’Reilly was still standing to tell you the truth.

I looked over at O’Reilly and he was beside himself with anger. I guess he is what you would call livid. His whole face, hell his whole body was contorted into a mask of hatred, revenge and fury and he was yelling, You rotten sons of bitches! You think you’re funny don’t you? Your day is coming! He stopped and kicked the ground. "I’ll never for get this. Never! You hear me Kolinski you Polack. Neverf

None of us spoke. We watched O’Reilly who was now walking in a circle frustrated. Then he suddenly turned and walked down the fairway into the darkness.

He wasn’t walking in his usual manner; both arms were swinging now.

His head was down.

He was spitting, but he wasn’t smoking.

Perhaps he found a new way to quit.

SUNDAY

The Greek was standing in front of the church when I approached. He was called the Greek as no one could pronounce his last name, which was Somethingopoulis. His first name was Theodore, but he didn’t like that name, nor did he like the name Ted. He liked being called the Greek. He thought it enhanced his image. He was big on image. The Greek was 18, going on 34 and looked to be about 53.

The Greek led a charmed life. Everything simply fell in place for him. He played football in high school, an offensive tackle and he was good. Though he never made All State he did receive two scholarship offers. One from Western Michigan and the other from North Dakota State. Though he had yet to decide on a school choice it was simply a matter of time before he did. The Greek was basically laid back and in no hurry. The interesting thing about the Greek was he was real muscular yet he never worked out. He seemed to have it all and it all seemed to be dropped right in his lap.

In his entire life he never missed Mass on Sunday, for as he was fond of saying, I like to check out the girls that don’t go to communion. He figured that if they didn’t go to communion their morals were probably lacking and there could be a good chance that he could screw them. His theory was that only virgins went to communion.

Hi Brown, he said as I approached. Smile if you got any last night.

Not helping myself I smiled. Though I didn’t get any last night, or the night before or the night before that. As matter of fact I had never gotten any, and don’t really know how you go about getting any. Now the Greek he got a lot, or so he said. He probably got enough for the both of us. The Greek liked to screw. Guys like me liked to screw but we didn’t because we lacked the one thing the Greek had.

Nerve.

Nerve was all you needed to get laid.

I’ve tried all the other things, being nice, giving them flowers, having them home on time, smiling at their mothers, trying to sound intelligent to their fathers, not pawing them as soon as I got them in the car and none of that crap worked. The only three little words I have ever heard from a girl were no not now. And not having the nerve to ask when, I would just let it slide. Now I bet when the Greek heard no not now he’d ask when? You know try to pin them down to a specific time and place.

Hi Greek, what’s new?

Had a date last night. The Greek made all his dates sound like a special occasion though I never understood why a girl would go out with him as he always had his swanse going. Went out with Sheila Courtney.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Sheila Courtney looked like something that just fell off a southbound freight and

landed smack on her face. You talk about a homely girl; she was right up there in the top two and way ahead of whoever was in second place. She had one of these noses that covered half her face, kind of like a monkey nose. Sometimes she wore glasses and sometimes she didn’t. On those occasions she didn’t she spent a lot of time walking into things. Rumor had it she liked to screw. I never did see her go to Communion now that I think about it. The Greek liked to screw. Hell, they probably did it all night.

The Greek looked at me