6/1/2008 Liquor-cycle

A few weeks ago Lee asked me to take him down the road to pick up a rug he saw on the side of the street. Being an active scavenger, I had already seen the rug in which he spoke days before. Two thunderstorms before. He acted like there was a big rush on going and getting the thing so I buckled Fox in, then jumped in the car, making myself 100% available and determined.
We drove at breakneck speeds to the curb where the rug was discarded and Lee gave me explicit directions about positioning my car for an optimal getaway. We both jumped out of the car; I opened the back of the truck and he hoisted the rug onto the bed. As we closed the hatch and jumped back into the cab another car pulled up. It seemed as if they lived in the house and were trying to pull into the driveway that we were blocking with our creative parking. After our doors were secured I gassed the engine, spinning gravel across the yard and accelerating towards our street.
Lee was invigorated.
"Did yew see that guy comin in-a-tryin te get ire rug?!"
Unwilling to share my downer perspective I said "Yeah! We DOGGED that jerk!"
We continued down the street with the rug in stow when Lee remarked
"Ats a nice rug. Uh hunderd dollar rug. It smells a little like cat urine, but I know a way tuh get rid uv it. What cha do iz take bakin soda an crushed up cloves an sprinkle em all over the thing with uh little alcohol; leave it for half hour, then clean it with detergent."
At this point I had already lowered all windows in the truck due to the oppressive smell. Willing to believe Lee's folk remedy I concentrated on getting home asap.
When we got back to Lee's house we pulled the rug out onto the dirt driveway and he proceeded to gather the elements needed to de-funkify the rug.
Approaching the rug with scientific rigor, he nodded in my direction while extending a five dollar bill.
"Thanks for goin on a run, girl. I'm gonna clean this thing up".
The rest of Lee's afternoon was spent multi-processing the rug with every chemical in his cupboard.
I decided to go to the grocery store and when I got back into the car it still smelled of cat urine.
This weekend my sister in law came into town to spend some time with us and the boy. She took Fox to the park while Jason and I cleared brush and overgrowth from our extra lots.
Lee appeared and asked about what we were doing and where was my truck.
I explained that Cassie had taken my truck to the park because it had the child safety seat installed in it, and that she and Fox would be back pretty soon.
Lee said "I went to a yard sale of a guy who has yard sales all summer long an he had this bike I wont"
I asked if we could bungee it to the top of my truck and he explained;
"hit aint that kinda bike, girl! Its one of em pedal-motor bike scooters! I don't even need to get a title for it or nuthin!"
I asked if he thought if it would fit in the back of my truck, and he said it would.
As soon as Cassie and Fox returned Lee and I headed out to the man's house to get the liquor-cycle.
We pulled up and Lee went up to knock on the door. No one answered.
He tried the side door, then the garage door.
The man told Lee that someone had already bought the thing and that he should have just bought it when he came earlier.
On the drive home I told Lee that I was sorry that he missed out on the bike, and he said "Hell! Don't be sorry! Alls that means is that some other guy has to do all that work!"
I figured that was the best attitude he could have had.
Instead of accepting our mission as a failure, Lee asked me to drive "on up ere to th' liquor store". He told me of a wonderful drink he made when he was a bar tender in the tropics (the movie "Cocktail" was based on this time period in Lee's life) involving cream an vodka. Suspecting White Russians, I willingly proceeded to the store and waited in the car with Lee's open container hidden in the floorboard.
We returned home and Lee disappeared into his kitchen while Cassie, Jason, Fox and I ate a wonderful meal together. Before we were finished eating Lee was at our door instructing us to come over and "getcha uh drank".
We told him we would come over as soon as we got Mr. Fox to bed, but that wasn't soon enough for him. He brought the whole affair over to our porch, complete with shining, new high ball glasses, and an insulated carafe full of the concoction.
As I had hoped, he had prepared White Russians. It was then that I made a strong connection between Lee and Jeff Bridges' character in the Big Labowski, "The Dude". The White Russians, the peed on rug, the love of leisure sports.
Lee is a cross between 'The Dude', and 'Beetlejuice'.