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Excerpted from ‘How to be a Pencilneck’ by Owen Garratt
 © Owen Garratt 2009
www.pencilneck.com
Al lRi ghts Res erv ed
.
THE YOUNG MAN BECOMESTHE PENCILNECK
®
By summer 1995, I had got moved back to Regina from Calgary, and wasmaking myself comfortable at Rod’s, and my scheme of hiring an artist andmarketing his artwork with Rod doing the custom framing had borne fruit. After apainful false start with a local air-headed artist, we landed Tom Boyko, a formeranimator who worked on “Duck Tales” and “An American Tale”, and struck adeal where Tom got the publicity and a royalty on terms that allowed us to managecash flow during the first crucial months.It’s one of those great stretches of time that’s easy to get nostalgicabout. The pangs of the ended relationship with Karla had closed over and weren’topen to the air as they once were. Eventually, Rod booted me off of his couch, andI took a small, hep, one bedroom pad on the south end of Regina on a heavilytreed street just behind the mall where Grandpa's store, Bird Films, was. Wefinally had the first two prints of Tom’s done, and had begun our little venture,and sales were brisk. Since my total business and personal expenses were less than$700 a month, I was pouching so much cash that I crinkled when I walked. Maybenot Porsche driving, Armani wearing, Caviar spreading, Champagne guzzlingcash, but for a chap with Bohemian tastes, things were sweet. I lived it up!Whereas the previous few months rarely saw me in a restaurant, and if I did go, itwas ‘just a soup and keep the crackers coming', now, I could do what I wanted; if Iwanted to see a movie, I could. If I wanted to order the steak, I did. If I wanted togo to a club, I was there. Thus, on Friday nights, Rod and I became regularfeatures at JD’s, a club in the east end.One of the highlights was the Friday night limbo contest. I may be on thebig side of medium, but I’m also the Limbo King. Stop scoffing, it’s true. I have
 
Excerpted from ‘How to be a Pencilneck’ by Owen Garratt
 © Owen Garratt 2009
www.pencilneck.com
Al lRi ghts Res erv ed
.
 just that right combination of flukey technique, horsepower, lack of shame, andstubborn competitive streak that’s so essential in these contests.The prize at these Gong Shows was a pitcher of your drink of choice.Coincidently, the proper preparation was at least 2 pitchers of your drink of choice. Mine was dark rum and coke,
(we call them Potions)
and once my star had risenin the limbo world, and fame and recognition clung to me like a cooking odor, thebartending gals pushed them over as soon as I approached the bar.I don’t know if you’ve ever gone in for drinking the stuff by the pitcher,but I’ve found a couple of pointers that you might find useful. In a casual setting,- say, a few chaps downing draft beer, mugs or glasses are essential. You shouldn't just grab the jug and slap your lips on it…it’s poor form. Use a glass, if youplease. However, when you’re walking around a nightclub and are the only poorslob drinking out of the thing, glasses are a big drag. With a pitcher in one hand,and a glass in another, here’s no free hand for smoking, back slapping, fending off cougars, or that all important John Travolta finger pointing dance. Also, you can’t just tip it up and down it goes; you‘ll spill it – and most likely just when a littlepretty decides to pop over and talk it up.You also need to have at least a dozen drinking straws in there. Why not just one? Simple, Grasshopper…as you move and jostle and dance, a lone strawwill shift and dodge and try to get away from you. If your other hand is doing itsduty, then you have to chase that straw with your mouth – and that ain’t cool.If you’ve spent as much time in bars as I have, then you’ll no doubt haveseen the spectacle of a liberally lubricated chap holding a pitcher of beverage up tohis face, his tongue half out, his mouth ¾ open, and his head bouncing andbobbing like a palsy patient, trying to catch the straw as it dances around the insideof the drink. That’s not quite the way to charm. However, if you have 20 or 30
 
Excerpted from ‘How to be a Pencilneck’ by Owen Garratt
 © Owen Garratt 2009
www.pencilneck.com
Al lRi ghts Res erv ed
.
straws in there, then you’re practically
guaranteed 
to nab one as soon as you putyour face into it.And that’s the kind of smooth you want.A pitcher of potions also helps you to stand out from the crowd of self-important, lacquered, and cologned wankers who’re concerned with lookingcool. When you schmooze around a club with a fistful of drink and straws, itpositions you as the best time in the place! People open up to you. Theycongratulate you on your inexplicable limbo prowess. They ask what the hellyou’re drinking, and might they possibly buy you another? They try to introduceyou to their available, chubby wallflower friends. They invite you to socialfunctions. The owner’s thank you for making the night go with a pop, and compyou the next time you show up. They offer you employment. The drinks getstiffer. Lineups at the bar mean nothing as Porcupines
(Potions with the straws, stay withme)
find their way to your hand as soon as the previous one drains. And all thewhile, those slimy ‘cool’ putzes are fuming and going home empty handed!Ha!The downside to this lifestyle is that Saturday mornings start off with thathorrible feeling that you’re going to die in about 15 minutes.Around this time, I began dating Pamela.If you lined up the women that I’ve dated, not that I suppose you could,but if you did, the casual bystander would soon ask, “How is he pickingthem?” You could say that I’ve tended towards variety in my love life. Tall, short,dark, blonde, athletic, dumpy, loud, quiet, hot, cold, smart, bright...and dim.
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