by Tom Molnar

Duke sits alone in his apartment New Year’s Day morning taking short sips on a Bud Lite, smoking one of his expensive Sobranie Black Russian cigarettes….. and writing down his ‘resolutions’ for 1999.

Duke mulls this one over in his head and decides it deserves some weight. He writes it down.

[I will cut ignorant new guys more slack.]

There, short and to the point.

He takes a swig from his beer, sets it down, looks at the clock and decides on another resolution.

[I will not drink beer before 9am.]

It’s 8:55am as Duke drops the empty bottle in the trash and pulls a fresh cold one from the refrigerator. What’s five minutes between friends?

One of the reasons Duke is sitting here doing resolutions is because once again his New Year’s Eve plans ended up going down the toilet. He’d asked Mitz about spending the evening with him and after almost relentless pursuit and hounding she’d agreed to go. At the last minute she called to say she had to work New Year’s Eve. She was sorry but she couldn’t spend the evening with him. Duke wondered if this was true or if maybe she was just getting out of the date. He had, after all, sort of pressured her into it.

[I will not pressure Mitz for dates. I will make it so she begs me for them.]

Duke lifts the bottle of Bud Lite to his lips and lets the cool bubbly liquid pour into his mouth. Nectar of the God’s, he ponders as he looks out his living room window at the freshly fallen snow.

As Duke sits looking down at his list, his cigarette is short enough to cause the smoke to flow up his cheek and into his eye.

"Damn!", he says out loud. He jerks his head back, closing his eye at the same time trying to relieve the sudden burning.

He puts the cigarette on the edge of the ash tray (which he stole from a TA truckstop…) and brings the pencil down to the paper.

[I will seriously cut back on my smoking.]

The phone rings and interrupts Duke’s train of thought. Ah! Could this be Mitz calling to once again apologize for breaking their date? Or maybe it’s one of the other drivers wanting to go out on this New Year’s Day for lunch. Duke reaches for the phone expectantly.

"Hello?", he says in a happy voice. "No, this isn’t the Holiday Bowl, or any other bowl for that matter. Watch your buttons when you punch them, ya moron!" Duke slams the phone down, more angry at who it wasn’t than who it was.

[I will allow others to be morons and not waste time trying to straighten them out.] Duke reads that one back and chuckles to himself. Yep, that one works.

Duke reaches for another Sobranie, places it in the right side of his mouth and ‘flicks’ his Bic. The flame touches the end as Duke takes a deep drag. He inhales the freshly lit smoke, knowing this is the best ‘drag’ of the entire cigarette. Why can’t every drag be like this? Someone should invent a smoke that tastes and feels like the first drag all the way through. He puts it on the edge of the ash tray. I’ll smoke less this afternoon.....

Taking another swig from his Bud, Duke looks around his apartment and realizes it needs some cleaning up. There’s two pizza boxes sitting on the coffee table, and he hasn’t had pizza in a couple weeks. Over by the stereo there’s a six pack of empty Bud Lite bottles sitting on the floor. The ash tray is so full the butts are sticking up like a spiral of fence posts. Some of the filters show signs of burning where the ‘business end’ of lit cigarettes has rested from time to time. There are ‘dust bunnies’ in all the corners and finger marks in the dust on almost every piece of flat furniture. A makeshift garbage bag (a McDonald’s take-out bag) sits next to the coffee table, full of burger wrappers, ‘big gulp’ size soft drink cups, french fry containers, and a wad of used and unused paper napkins. It’s overflowing, with a few fries actually on the rug. A calendar hangs on the wall with October 98 still showing. A pair of running shoes sit on the floor by the front door, one shoe upside down. Duke takes this all in and finds yet another resolution.

[I will keep my truck cleaner.]

On his way to the kitchen to replenish the now empty bowl of Chee-tos, Duke grabs his white cowboy hat, puts it on, and stops at the mirror to check himself out. He pulls the brim down to the proper angle, then turns both right and left to see how he looks. "Uh HUH!", he blurts. Liking what he sees, he continues on to the kitchen where he pours the last of a family size bag of Chee-tos into the bowl. He leaves the bag on the counter and shuffles back to the desk in the living room, checking himself out in the mirror as he passes.

He equates professional drivers with classy looking cowboy hats. And while he has professional drivers on his mind, he finds yet another area wanting for attention. Since Duke places a lot of stock in being a true professional, he decides on one last resolution.

[I will be more professional in every facet of my work, showing the proper respect to all my peers, regardless of how stupid they may be.]

Duke opens his desk drawer and grabs the Scotch tape. He pulls a two inch strip off and affixes it to the paper with his resolutions, which he then tapes to the wall by his desk. This way he’ll see them every time he sits down. He leans back in his chair, munching on his Chee-tos and washing them down with beer. Yep, Duke is ready for 1999.

*****

It’s Sunday afternoon, January 3^rd, and Duke is headed for the terminal. He likes to get a head start on the week’s work. It’s chilly and his car windows are closed. His Black Russian cigarette fills the interior with a thick haze of smoke. Even Duke finds it hard to breathe and decides to open the vent window just a crack.

He pulls into the mini-mart just down the street from B.S. Trucking to get a coffee. He tosses the cigarette butt onto the ground, right next to the ‘butt kit’ provided by the store at their front door. He doesn’t squash it out, so it lays there smoldering. Duke treads on up to the self-serve coffee station where he selects the largest cup they have, fills it with coffee, adds six cream cups, and stirs it up. He puts a cap on it and heads for the check out counter. A young pimply faced kid looks up at him.

"Will that be all, sir?"

Duke looks at the kid.

No, ya moron. That won’t be all. I plan to do my week’s shopping here. I want you to get me a cart so I can finish my chore. And what’s more, I want you to push the cart for me so I can make my selections as we go up and down all your aisles. You have so many good deals here I don’t know where to start. And while you’re at it, make me up a few of those great hamburgers you serve over there at that steam table where food sits for days. Oh, and I expect you to carry the stuff out to my car for me as well.

What Duke actually says is, "Yep, that’s it."

Duke smiles as he backs out of his parking space. He’s keeping his New Year’s resolutions. This one had something to do with the one about cutting morons slack, or something like that.