…what are you on your?
Incase you missed you the Martin Scorsese remake of the Hong Kong Crime Thriller “Infernal Affairs”, “The Departed”.
You might still remember that Leonardo DiCaprio rage gage glass smashing scene at a Bar in Boston where a fellow patron teases him on…ahem, his choice of beverage; a Cranberry Juice.
To which…Leo just loses it in the most spectacular fashion, sending off a nasty shockwave throughout the mafia lurkers who step in and decide; “Let’s settle this matter now, boys!”.
I admit, it’s a cool scene — don’t do it in real life.
I mean…don’t bash people, order as many Cranberry Juices as you like.
I personally like Pineapple Juice, I read it makes your love juice more sweet.
Not that I would know, I’ve never been one for drinking my own reproductive juice.
But I trust the scientists, they know what’s up.
Anyways, I was quite driven by this phenomenon and wished to explore it further.
Why does Cranberry Juice piss off the fella? I mean…it’s just a drink, and after all Leo just wanted to enjoy a sober sweet refresher.
There was no need to Drink-Shaming.
Curiously though, I began my journey at my local super mart.
I made sure I wore a very bright shirt, as to be noticed by other lurkers.
Making sure I loitered around the “Beverage” section long enough for a poor soul to inquire, “Sir, are you lost?”.
“Can I help?”
“No…I think I have to endeavour on this journey on my own, dear friend.”
“But yeah where the fuck do you stock the CRANBERRY JUICE?!”
“Why are you shouting?”
“Oh…I just wanted people to notice I’M BUYING CRANBERRY JUICE!”
“Well, it’s…right…behind….you. There.”
“Oh thanks…I WAS WONDERING WHERE THAT CRANBERRY JUICE WAS!”
Nobody gave a fuck.
My plan had failed, these bastards knew what I was up to.
Being the provocateur that I am, I ventured on.
It was time to try a new tactic.
The sleazy kind.
Let’s go to a dingy bar, I decided.
I walked in, with my leather jacket on — sunglasses at night, ripped jeans; I look like the shit.
I’m about to do this.
I see a pretty bartender, she gives me “the look”.
The kind that lets me know “Here comes another, asshole”.
“Hey…”, I said in a voice deeper than my normal voice.
“What would you like?”
“Oh I don’t know…maybe…a…CRANBERRY JUICE!”
“The music is too loud…I couldn’t hear that. Could you repeat that last bit?”
“I sure can…I’LL HAVE A CRANBERRY JUICE!”
“We don’t have that. Would Pineapple work?”
“…uhh, yeah sure. I’ve heard good reviews about it.”
“Yeah. Sure. Okay.”
Suffice it to say, she didn’t call the cops.
In agony and despair, I wander along the paths in a misty night.
Those ripped jeans were now proving to be a poor choice of attire, the wind found it’s way through the gaps — findings its way all the way to privates; letting me know, my manhood was shrinking in this fruitless journey.
What a windy night…
As I lit up a cigarette, thinking maybe I’ll never find out why Leo bashed that guy up in a bar over Cranberry Juice.
A voice of reason emerged…it was the bartender.
“Oi! You…the cranberry guy!”
“Fuck…she might’ve called the cops. Make a run for it!”
“Oi! What the fu…DUDE YOU LEFT YOUR WALLET”
“Oh…right. Shit I didn’t realise there was hole in my back-pocket”
She walked towards me, through the cloud of mist — she emerged, like an angle sent from the Cranberry fields made in Heaven.
“Here’s your wallet”, she said with a sympathetic look in her eyes, one of hope, one that said, “I still think you’re an asshole…”
I thanked her for the gesture, our hands didn’t touch — it they did that would make the situation a bit more creepier.
“You need me to call you a cab?”
“No…No…I’m just wasted in this endless pursuit.”
“Like in the Departed when Leo smashes up that dude for making the period reference?”
“The what reference?”
“Uhh…look it up dude?”
“Was that what it was all about? Over Leo’s menstrual cycle?”
“Yeah…it was meant to be a joke, though”
“Oh…well thank you Bartender. You just…it all makes sense now.”
“I know now…Cranberry Juice. Why didn’t I think of it before…”
“Maybe ’cause you were busy trying to test people’s patience instead of searching for the answers?”
“You’re an angel!”
“I’m not going to sleep with you. And you look like an asshole.”
“I know…I’m very self aware.”
“Okay…well I have a job, unlike you. Fuck off now”
“I will…I’ll go drown my sorrows in CRANBERRY JUICE!”
Baa Dum Tss.