1 minute read
VISITING ALASKA
Locally owned and operated by a lifelong Alaskan, Stage Line offers passenger transportation, freight, parcel, and courier service, between Anchorage and the Kenai Peninsula. Our schedule includes, Anchorage to Homer, Cooper Landing, Soldotna, Kasilof, Ninilchik, Anchor Point. Homer to Seward, Soldotna, Cooper Landing. And any points in between! MP flag stops available! Private party charters available! Reasonable rates, saves time and money for travelling or your shipping needs.
One of the top 10 most scenic highways.
SEWARD TO HOMER
June 1st – August 31st
Mon Wed Fri
Departs Seward 100pm call ahead for pick up point
Cooper Landing Wild- man’s 200pm
Soldotna 300pm
All times are approx HOMER TO SEWARD
June 1st - August 31st
Mon Wed Fri
Departs Homer 1242 Ocean Dr 900am
Soldotna Chamber of Commerce 1030am
Cooper Landing Wildman’s 1130
The Stage Line PO Box 353 Anchor Point, AK
The Stage Line 1242 Ocean Dr Homer, Ak 724 W International Anchorage, Ak Staging points only 907-868-3914 907-235-2252
E-mail: stage.line@yahoo.com www.stagelineinhomer.com
DUDE, WE WERE HAVING A GREAT NIGHT, AND THEN... It appeared that the late shot of elixir was what transformed Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde, escalating the exuberant whiskey-burn growl into an ear-piercing screech.
And that’s where the off-switch appears to have malfunctioned.
Like a shark upon the first scent of blood that triggers the wide-eyed feeding frenzy, in an instant, what was a composed practice in cocktail etiquette became an all-bets-are-off mission to Mercury. This was the turning point where the motor skills became erratic and sloppy – effectively turning the leaking lip into a lawn sprinkler that sprays the bar with nonsensical gibberish.
And here I am, hyper-aware of every tic and touch while you decimate the vibe of the room with nails-on-a-chalkboard karaoke. The turkey strut turns to a fumbling act of foot balance and mumbled lyrics – thoroughly entertaining yourself whilst the room second guesses the system of open mics and over pours.
Dropping the microphone, you parade to the bar demanding attention – lambasting those who won’t share in your fist-pumping, shot glass-pounding camaraderie, measuring the patron’s moxie in ounces.
Your jerking, brutish arms are weapons of buzzkill. And then there you go, swapping spit with the wobbly sea hag who appears like a ball to the barstool chain – deliriously charmed by your advances. She cackles with delight while you attempt to dance her around before stumbling to the filthy floor like limp bags of garbage meant for the dump.
Meanwhile, her cross-eyed cougar friend peers towards me, on the hunt for the thunder from down under. So, I grab your arm and shuffle out of the impact zone as the bouncer gets anxious.
Thankfully, I just use Cannabis. So, you have a friend to drive you home.