…Claire was anxious so she called Boom Boom who confided that some Daltons believe they’d inadvertently created God and he was now running amok…
Crater Mind
After talking to Boom Boom she knew she had to get out of her head, pronto, and that meant getting out of the house. There was no moon and the wind was dusted with needle-tipped ice crystals. Claire marched toward The Commons, her Dr. Martins crunching into the frozen snow. The tips of her ears and nose were burning. Claire felt better, action always felt better than inaction.
She came upon The Crater - Ithaca's only alternative bar - and thought, why not? Getting a few drinks would be fine. "Head on," Claire said to herself. "I fucking deal, head on."
The Crater apparently devoted different nights to different domains. From Rob, she knew Mondays were traditionally dyke night. Claire wasn't sure what tonight was supposed to be about. The jukebox was playing Depeche mode and the few patrons appeared grungy in a generic sort of way. The lights were low and every surface was painted black.
The bartender was a skinny guy in some sort of vinyl sports coat. He smiled like he was relieved to see her.
"What's your poison?"
Claire considered. Definitely not Zima. The bartender was nodding his head. "What?" Claire said.
"You tell me if I'm wrong. You want to be able to have a couple of drinks and like, no bullshit. You're not looking to get fucked up."
Claire felt much less alone. "That's amazing."
"I got exactly what you need." He set a sweaty bottle of Sam Adams before her. "Yes, it's a mainstream label. It is really a lager? I don't know, but it's got character. Two will open up the goodness with no bullshit."
She drank the Sam Adams in three hungry sips. About five seconds later a warm calm spilled through her. She signaled the bartender and he looked pleased. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Another bottle appeared. She closed out and gave him a huge tip then wondered if they'd been flirting with each other. She felt self-conscious and intentionally didn't look at him and drank the second bottle slowly in an effort to preserve her buzz. She could stay in control.
Thoughts automatically returned to Zeph. The little scrawny zero who'd let himself be turned into Janet's boy toy. He was a loser. And way too young for her. So why did she still dream about being with him? Because he was the past and she was stuck in the past. After the whisper, she should leave Ithaca, go some place where she didn't know anyone and no one knew her. A total restart. Where would she go? A big city would be exciting, somewhere where there were more people who were potentially open minded. She could disappear…
The jukebox started playing New Order's "Your Silent Face" and Claire thought, Wow, like magic. What a fantastic decision to come here. She felt a rush of exhilaration. The only thing cooler would be if the next song was by The Charlatans. Madchester was her current favorite kind of music and the only shit she played at Rerun Records. More patrons were filing in and shaking their coats and spreading the warmth of belonging. Perfect, except she was almost done with her second beer. Would it be possible to have a third beer and drink it even more slowly? Would that keep the buzz going? She wanted to keep going. She was kind of celebrating after all. She signaled the bartender but he was busy with someone else. She thought about messing around with the juke box but it felt like that might be tampering with the gods.
…A righteous babe and more booze…