American Luxury

          

          I had just taken my seat at the bar when Matthew McConaughey came and sat down a few spots to my right. At first, I was sure that my eyes were deceiving me, for I could not at that moment surmise a premise that could otherwise explain the appearance of Oscar-winning actor Matthew McConaughey at the local drinking hole. To confirm, I peered over him to the large window on the far side of the bar, through which I saw the parking lot, where my dusty PT Cruiser sat like an old chunk of coal beside what looked to be a brand new SUV. Even from the distance, I could make out that the logo of the car; it was without a doubt a Lincoln, just like the ones I had seen Mr. McConaughey drive in the commercials that always interrupted my daily viewings of Family Guy on Fox at 9pm ET. So, I was right. It was a Wednesday morning, and I was indeed in a bar a few feet away from Mr. Alright Alright Alright himself.

            “Psst. Hey. Roger,” he said after some time. 

            I turned to him to see that he was looking straight in my direction, which confused me greatly. I returned my attention to the bottle of Corona I was halfway through.

            After a few minutes, he spoke again. “Roger, hey! Don’t you remember me?” 

            Once again I looked his way and saw that he was returning my gaze. His eyes indicated he recognized me. 

            “Roger!” he said, “Long time no see, pal!” 

            I did not respond, for I had noticed that he was calling to a Roger, and that was not my name. Eventually, he got up from his seat and came to sit down beside me. 

            “Hey, come on, Roger, what’s the big idea, here? You’re not gonna say hello after all the time it’s been?”

            In that moment it became very clear to me that Matthew McConaughey had mistaken me for someone he knew, which made the fact that I had been ignoring him, and also the fact that I was not Roger, very awkward. I had to think quick.

            “Hey, Matthew, sorry man, I didn’t know you were talking to me,” I replied, which I immediately realized was a terrible excuse, since we were alone in the bar and he could not have been talking to anyone else. Although, I suppose he could have been talking to himself, like he does in those Lincoln commercials, but that would be a bit of a stretch, since he had been talking to a Roger, and his name was Matthew McConaughey.

            He laughed, so I supposed he had taken my foolishness as a joke, which I was fine with.

            “So listen,” he said as he slid closer to me, “we need to talk about Sam. You remember Sam?”

            “Sure I do,” I said, acknowledging almost immediately that I was stepping too deep into my web of lies to drop out. “How is sh/he…?” 

            “Oh Roger, you’re not going to believe this. He’s in jail! Was pulled over by some cop last week because it looked like he was drunk, but the cop ended up finding a bunch of coke and shit in his car. Can you believe it?”

            There was a lot riding on my response. If I acted surprised, and it turned out Sam was the kind of fella who was always getting pulled over for keeping coke and shit in his car, then Matthew McConaughey would very quickly realize that I did not know Sam, which would also very quickly lead to him realizing that I was not Roger and instead just some guy. I decided to play the odds; I was in too deep now anyways.

            “Believe it? Are you kidding me, Matt? Of course I can believe it! That son of a bitch Sam hasn’t not been high for five seconds in his life, am I right? HAHA,” I laughed loud to back up my statement.

            Matthew McConaughey waited for what felt like too long before he started laughing too. “Ain’t that the truth, buddy, ain’t that the truth,” he said, shaking his head.

            I couldn’t believe I’d guessed right. I made a mental note to stop by a gas station on the way home to buy a Powerball ticket if this streak of luck continued.

            “But listen,” he said as he grew serious, “As you know, Sam’s dealer is the only guy in town whose coke is actually worth the trouble and money it takes to get it, and I’m worried that Sam getting busted for possession is gonna lead the cops to the plug, if you get what I’m saying.”

            “Of course, Matt, of course I do.” I replied.

            “And if this plug goes down, then I also won’t be able to buy any good coke when I come around these parts, you see? And you know I have to visit here often because Ma and Pa live in town. But if there’s no coke, I’ll be visiting much less, right?”

            “Right, Matt, right.” I replied, nodding sincerely.

            “Well then. You wouldn’t want Old Ma and Pa McConaughey to see less of their son now, would you? That’d be...that’d be a tragedy.” He pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed at his dry eyes.

            “A complete and total tragedy, Matt, sure,” I replied.

            He moved even closer, and now I could smell him. He smelled like a new car. “I need a favor, Roger.”

            I nodded. “Go ahead, Matthew, anything for you.”

            “You know Roger…you and I go back, way back. I’ve done you my share of favors, and Sam too, he’s had your back before. Listen. We need you to come forward as the plug.”

            “But I’m not the plug, Matthew.”

            “I know, Roger, I know that. You gotta pretend, though. For us.”

            “You want me to lie to the cops and say I sold the drugs to Sam?”

            “For us. For me.”

            “For you.”

            “Yeah, Roger. That way everything can stay the way it is, you know? Sam can rat you out as “the plug” and get a few months off his sentence, I can still visit Ma and Pa, stuff like that. Plus, I can try for your bail later, if you want. I got a lot of pull you know, having been in movies and things like that.”

            I didn’t know what to say. On one hand, here was Oscar-winner Matthew McConaughey asking me to go to jail for him and his friend, and on the other hand, I really did not want to. It was a tough decision, quite possibly the toughest of my life, until I realized one thing. I was not Roger. I was just playing him, like an actor would. And a good one at that, seeing as Oscar-winner Matthew McConaughey was yet to get wise to my act. Suddenly, the decision was simple. I just had to ask myself: “What would Roger do?” And from what I knew, Roger was no bitch.

            “You got it, Matty. I’m in. Just give me a week to get affairs together, and then I’ll turn myself in. Anything for you and Sam.”

            Matthew McConaughey then smiled a great big smile, and for a moment I saw why everybody liked him. It was one of those smiles that made you forget that a moment ago you had discovered that he was a raging cocaine addict.

            He then wrapped me in a hug, looked at me once again with gratitude, and then walked to the door. Once there, he stopped and turned around, and I half-expected him to tip his hat and say something cool like “Alright, alright, alright, friend,” but instead he just walked back to me because he’d forgotten the keys to his Lincoln at the bar, and then he turned around and walked out again. I heard the clicking of his key outside and then saw him getting into the Lincoln. For a long time, he just sat there and stared out the window to somewhere I could not see, just like the commercials, and I wondered what great things his eyes saw at that moment, and just how much a Lincoln costs anyway because I’d sure love to look as cool as he does one day.

            After some time, he began to drive away, and I watched him. I wondered if he was headed to meet Sam at jail, or maybe to the plug to get his daily fix. I also thought about Roger - the real one that is - and how all this was his problem now. I was surely never going to meet Matthew McConaughey again, so I hoped the situation I had gotten Roger into was something he could handle. But I felt good, because from what I knew about Roger by pretending to be Roger, he was no bitch. He would be fine.