Philip Dampier's Blog

Episode 4: My, Don’t You Look Handsome…

I couldn’t do much about the developing beard or the red in my eyes, but I still had my going-out clothes on from the previous evening and they weren’t too much worn for the wear. My stomach was still queasy but I washed my face in the small sink and dried it with a paper towel off a rack. Maybe a walk in the cold air would sober me up enough to converse with Sally. Since it was my first real drunk, I wasn’t sure how long I would be in the inebriated state. I tried out a smile. Not too good, I needed to practice.

Sally was waiting near the front door, her coat across her arms. I could see through the glass panes behind her that the snow was no longer falling. With any luck the wind had died down too.

I glanced at the old couple as I walked by their table. The two of them were drinking coffee from the white mugs they were holding in their right hands. Their left hands were clasped in the middle of the table. I felt a pang of emotion and a picture of my father pleading with my mom flashed through my memory once again. Was this the result of too much alcohol or was something else going on, I wondered. I had not thought of my mother and father together for a long time.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Sally said.

“Old memories,” I responded, “And better left in the memory halls.”

She looked puzzled for a moment but her smile quickly returned.

She looked at me and smiled, “My dad just told me that short walks in cold air do wonders for hangovers.”

“Short sounds about right. I still feel wobbly and my stomach is still unhappy.”

She opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk.

“We’re walking two blocks to a nice warm department store and get you a wool hat, a scarf and some gloves. You’ll catch a cold walking around Boise in the wintertime without a hat. It may well snow again today.”

“Where is your hat?” I asked.

“My coat has a hood. Won’t mess my hair up like a hat. I’m wearing my scarf and my gloves are in my pocket.”

She laughed and started to pull her coat on. I tried to help but almost lost my balance and would have fallen into the street if a car hadn’t been parked right next to the curb. Sally laughed and I blushed, embarrassed at my clumsiness and hungover state.

It was certainly true that cold air had an effect on hangovers. I had a moment of clarity when the twenty plus degree air hit my face. As a former, but lifelong southerner, I was unaccustomed to the bite of sub-freezing air aided by a southbound wind. The fact that it was southbound made a lot of difference since the mountains on the north side of town were covered in snow. South of us was the desert with nothing but tumbleweeds to slow the wind down. I was thankful for the few tall buildings in downtown Boise for breaking much of the chilling wind.

Sally set off at a good clip and I tried my best to keep up. The walking and the air did seem to help and I began to feel like I just might live. I had trouble keeping my eyes on the sidewalk as I kept glancing at Sally. Twice I stumbled a bit and the second time she reached out and took my arm. I would have stumbled sooner if I had known that would happen.

We reached Falks Department Store in a matter of minutes. I don’t remember ever seeing a store that large. It looked like it might cover an entire city block. Still holding my arm, Sally guided me through the ladies’ department and into the men’s clothing area. It was not as large as the women’s section, of course, not by any means. We walked past the underwear and socks and then the shirts and pants.

Near the department’s exit was a small display of men’s hats. It looked to me like all the hats Idahoan men wore were ten-gallon cowboy hats like I had seen in a hundred B-movies. There was a small counter on one side with a few other styles and Sally went straight to those. I was looking them over when she reached and picked up a medium brown fedora with a leather band and a small red feather.

“Try this one,” she said as she handed the neat wool hat to me. I tried it on but it literally fell down on my ears. I took it off and looked inside at the band. Definitely two sizes too large. Before I could speak, she was handing me another one. It was not as dark and the feather was smaller. I set it on my head and it settled down just near perfect.

“Oh my, don’t you look handsome,” my personal hatter said. Or was she a milliner? “Now, some leather gloves for driving and shoveling snow,” she added and reclaimed my arm. In a matter of minutes we left Falks with a new hat and gloves and a mostly empty wallet.

“I’m out of money,” I said, “in case you have more shopping in mind. I would like to keep enough to buy you lunch.”

She seemed to think that was funny. “I’m a working girl and I have enough tips from breakfast to buy us anything we want. Let’s walk you sober and introduce you to the city, then I’ll take you to my favorite lunch site.”

So we walked and she pointed out the various stores and landmarks and gave a little history of the area. Then the questions started again and this time they were a little more personal.

“Jack,” she asked me, “how did you start the drinking that caused this hangover? Does your family drink?”

I stopped walking and turned to look at her. “My family are all teetotalers and when my mother found out I had been drinking beer she had a conniption fit. That’s when I moved out from under her supervision and got my own place.”

She made a face, most probably one of disapproval, so I turned and started up the sidewalk again. I didn’t want to look at her when I told the rest of the story. I was really starting to like this girl a lot and I didn’t want her to think I was a bad person. But she already knew I had gotten drunk so there was no sense in trying to hide that information.

“When I graduated from high school a neighbor two doors down the street offered me a job working on one of his roofing crews. I knew nothing about roofing having mostly been a sports jock, but as it turned out all he wanted me for was muscle. I was still in good shape from a spring season of baseball on the heels of wrestling, so he got what he wanted. He ran the largest roofing contracting business in the entire area which covered my town as well as several others in a fifty-mile radius. The pay was fifty cents an hour even though I was unskilled in roofing work.