Night of the Watermellon

watermelon
Originally uploaded by steakbellie.

This story takes place long before Steakbellie learned about things like Bicycles, Chicken Wings, Heart Break, Sorrow, Pride, Responsibility, Work & Joy. Steakbellie loved people and tried to find something nice to say about each of them. It happened years before Steakbellie spoke about himself in the third person so lets just stop that foolishness right now.

It's summertime and the apartment complex has cleared out until the fall semester. All four of us are here tonight and we're drinking all of the cans of Keystone Light that we can afford. Keystone Light has the distinction of being watered down Coors Lite so you can imagine how bad that is. The packaging brags of a specially lined cans, but it's also the cheapest beer that Caesers sells.

Four guys...really really drunk who are girlfriend free for the night. We'll probably chase each other around being goofballs and then watch the garbled static on porn stations we dont subscribe to, and try to figure out what's going on.
"I saw a Boob!"

Every twenty minutes somebody is staggering to the fridge to look at the cold grime and ignore the watermellon.

Thats right, there's this huge fucking watermellon that has sat in the goddamned fridge for months, avoiding consumption by just being so freaking big. Who wants to do the hard work on whittling off a slice of watermellon, when you dont have the stomachs around to consume the whole thing let alone a full hunk. It would require alot of energy to lift it out of it's frosty home, and would be a wasteful shame if it went bad because we couldnt eat it all in one sitting.

We are drunk and hungry
but never wasteful.

So instead the watermellon has developed a tan topside from the refridgerator light. Sometimes when someone has food, they place it ontop of the watermellon, or hide it behind the watermellon, but the watermellon has become more of a landmark than a foodstuff. Sort of a landscape that has become invisible to those who live on it.

Sometimes Lump Lump has a package of Polish Sausage. Sometimes Birdy has Clamato. Sometimes JuneBug has a take-out box of PizzaHut leftovers. All of those things come and go..the watermellon is timeless at the bottom of the fridge.

I open the fridge again and lean in for a good look.

We are out of condiments as we ate the condements as a meal last week. At the bottom of the fridge beneath the disappearing cans of Keystone, I see the green plastic hardness of the famous mellon

Steakbellie: (far too happy and loud) "Hey Guys, Did you know we have a watermellon?"
Birdy: "Bring me a beer"
Steakbellie: "I'm going to smash it. I'm going to smash this watermellon"
Lump Lump: "When did we get a watermellon?"

So out I stumble into the courtyard. Now the only thing I havent pointed out here is that I dont have any shoes on. or clothes.

Actually I have a pair of boxers on which is a blessing because at the time I used to walk around the apartment in these dreadfully aweful bikini underwear. (could one of you "friends" sat me down to straighten that shit out?!?!)

So I'm holding the watermellon with both hands and spinning around on the grass like it's an enourmous discus that I am about to launch. My roomates are standing behind me laughing. Faster and faster I go around....when I get an idea,that inadvertantly keeps me out of jail.

What I dont realize is that two policemen and a police dog are standing about ten yards away watching me twist around like a particle accelerator. They are not hiding themselves, I am just so drunk that I dont notice them. They are waiting for me to commit my crime.

My roommates, however do notice them and respond by running back inside, slamming the door shut and hiding from the police. (Thanks Guys)

So my idea is to climb the second floor staircase and toss it down onto the concrete instead. I stop piroetting and run to the steps in my big bare feet.

"STOP!!!!!"

I turn slowly at the bottom of the staircase

and they actually say this:

"PUT DOWN THE WATERMELLON"
At this point I realize that I'm in my underwear and I'm using the watermellon to cover some of my more private areas.

they repeat with flaslights in my face

"PUT DOWN THE WATERMELLON"

The next fifteen minutes involve this collegetown cops trying to get me to admit that I was about to smash the watermellon. I repeat my slurred response: "Why would I do that to MY watermellon"

At some point they realize that I am too simpleminded to break, and order me to bring my watermellon back inside.

So here's the funny part (if you dont think that guy in his underwear is funny)
When I am done being questioned, of my three roomates:
One is hiding behind a door
One is hiding under his bed
One is hiding in the bathtub

I dont recall what happened to the watermellon.