Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Downtown Buffalo a bustling ghost town
on a Sunday in February, me & Eric wandering around
looking for a place to eat before Tool hits the stage
at KeyBank Center, 20 years in the making for the two of us
the city though is overrun by metalheads from north of the border
as if they emerged from a late ‘90s time capsule
more wallet chain than man, they clank & claw their way
through the empty streets
the restaurants, the ones still open, aren’t ready for the influx
not enough staff, no one put the show on the calendar
we settle for TGI Fridays because we spot an empty booth
but when we walk in, everything feels a little off
the host tells us they only have one server working now
who looks to be crying in the back corner
that we might have better luck ordering food if we sit at the bar
so that’s exactly what we do, we’re lucky
because a couple guys are leaving, they’re from Toronto
fresh from a two-hour drive to see their favorite band
the bartender is wearing one of those high school
graduating class hoodies, the year 2018 & the name
of every student, they seem overwhelmed & when we ask
about appetizers, they snap, “No more ordering food, I’m done!”
looks like we’re getting overpriced arena chicken fingers then
when grabbing our beers, the bartender drops a glass & it breaks
everyone else sitting at the bar hoots & hollers
suddenly there’s a hand in front of my face clutching
a pack of empty Senecas, a voice saying, “Can’t you smell that?
It smells nice, right?” I look next to me
there’s this middle-aged white dude with eyes like stinkfists
“There’s a couple of buds at the bottom of the pack, wanna smoke?”
I politely decline, but he insists on talking
about how this TGI Fridays has the best burgers in Buffalo
which is not true, but there’s no convincing him otherwise
Stinkfist yells, “I would really like to order a burger
but where are you everyone?” the bartender is gone
maybe sucked into a wormhole to somewhere better
maybe wormholes are popping up everywhere in Buffalo
like it’s the end of Avengers: Endgame
then things take a turn for the worse, Stinkfist starts talking about
COVID, how he needs to put a bullet in Biden’s head
that if Trump was still President, there’d be burgers for everyone
me & Eric tell him to shut up, to just leave
he laughs, talks about how he was in prison for 13 years
for beating the shit out of a cop but before I can comment
that all cops are bastards, Stinkfist whispers, “White pride”
that’s it, we all stand up, we’re going to come to blows
suddenly the bartender reappears, Stinkfist quickly retreats
toward the exit declaring, “Did I also mention I’m bipolar?”
Eric tells him, “You should’ve probably opened with that”
we pay our tab & I tip the bartender a lot, just because
I head to the bathroom before we leave where I just JUUL
while staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror
even because I watched them fall away, I don’t know
how the pieces fit anymore, I don’t give a fuck
about souls in motion, Jesus & Mother Mary
always questioning our second guessing or how poetry
only happens after we’ve been smoldered, what you look like
detached from the Fibonacci sequence, the golden hue
gone from your face like how when the sun drifts
below the horizon, what are we even doing with our lives?
I hope that when I leave the bathroom
the few TGI Fridays employees working this shift
have walked off the job, all the Canadians
jammed together in the kitchen making burgers
Stinkfist on meds or mangled altogether
the therapy of nonexistence if you don’t make things better
one final vape blast toward my face
as I mutter a quiet prayer: although we may spiral out
keep going, amen
Justin Karcher (Twitter: @justin_karcher) is a Best of the Net- and Pushcart-nominated poet and playwright born and raised in Buffalo, NY. He is the author of several books, including Tailgating at the Gates of Hell (Ghost City Press, 2015). Recent playwriting credits include The Birth of Santa (American Repertory Theater of WNY) and “The Trick Is to Spill Your Guts Faster Than the Snow Falls” (Alleyway Theatre).