Breaker Whiskey

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey. As a patron, you will also receive each week's episodes as one longer episode every Monday.

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

Okay, here’s a story I can tell you—one that won’t, um, incriminate me.

Not that it really matters.

[click, static]

Pete was a born and bred New York City boy. He grew up in Brooklyn and then went to Fordham for college—why he bothered to get a college education, I’ll never know. I think maybe he tried the typical nine to five thing for a bit. It wasn’t like he was incapable, a degree from Fordham could get you through lots of doors. But he just liked doing what we did. He was good at it and he enjoyed it.

Anyway, while he was at Fordham, he took anatomy lab. He didn’t even want to be a doctor, he and his friends just thought it would be a cool and creepy thing to do. They’d all grown up watching Frankenstein and fancied themselves proteges of Victor or something.

[click, static]

So, anyway, this anatomy lab ended up having an outsized impression on Pete. It was always before lunch, so he said the smell of formaldehyde made him hungry. Which…ugh.

But it didn’t just make an impression on him—it ended up leaving its mark on all of Manhattan. Because Pete and his friends started a game—a competition to see who could sneak out the largest organs from class. A kidney, an eye, whatever. And then, they start leaving the organs behind on subway cars.

[click, static]

It was in the papers and everything—the police thought there was some kind of new serial killer. But then the semester ended and the boys stopped filching organs from the lab and the subway was returned to its relative normalcy and it’s now become one of those unsolved oddities of New York City.

[click, static]

God, that’s not a very funny story, at all…um, is it. It’s actually pretty gruesome. I’ve never told it before—only ever heard Pete tell it. And the way he does it, it feels funny, um, but its not. It’s really not, I—

[click, static]

Forget all of this. Forget yesterday too. I’m not a very good storyteller, clearly. I just, um—

[click, static]

Maybe you should talk for a while.

[click, static]

[beeps]

.--- --- -... / .. -- .--. --- .-. - .- -. - .-.-.- / .... ..- .-. - / .--. . --- .--. .-.. . .-.-.-

Job important. Hurt people.

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey. As a patron, you will also receive each week's episodes as one longer episode every Monday.

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

Hey, Birdie. I haven’t heard from you in a few days. Not that you need to talk to me every single day, but I’m still waiting for you to explain the whole “betrayed your job” thing.

[click, static]

I hope I didn’t scare you off by putting certain topics off limits. But I promise, we’ve got other things to talk about. Uh, like, um…

[click, static]

Okay, how about this—I’ll tell you about how Pete and I met, how about that. I told you how Harry and I met and this is, um…well, this is actually a nice story, strangely

Um, Pete had been working in the art and antiquity racket for a while—I don’t know how he got into it, but he was good at it. Really understood museums and security systems and always seemed to have a line on which rich art collectors would be out of town when and—

[click, static]

Well, anyway, he’d been doing it for a long time. But every now and then, the gap between jobs would stretch a little too long for comfort. For as much as there were feast times, there were plenty of famine times too. So he’d have to dip down into less…prestigious jobs.

That’s how I first heard about him—I’d had my eye on a couple of Park Avenue apartments with these great big jewelry collections, and Pete beats me to one of them. And let me tell you, I was not happy.

I was in a famine period myself—one that had lasted for a while. So when I got wind that he’d scooped me, I was mad mad. And, of course, there’s nothing I can do—I’m twenty two and broke and trying to make my way in the world, but then I realized, Pete may have gotten there first, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t take something from Pete. You know what they say, there’s no honor among—

[click, static]

Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this story. I don’t want to put another topic off-limits, and I’ve already told you plenty that’s incriminating, but these are still public airwaves that anyone could be tuning in and I don’t know if I should still be paranoid—

[click, static]

I’ll come up with something else. Another fun story, okay? And you just get back to me when you can.

[click, static]

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey. As a patron, you will also receive each week's episodes as one longer episode every Monday.

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

I saw a dog today.

I mean, I’ve seen a few dogs since I got on the road. Stray cats, deer, squirrels, a couple of raccoons and possums…animals really are the only thing I do have to look out for when I’m on the road.

But today I saw a dog that looked…

[click, static]

I don’t know how else to describe it, but it looked loved. It wasn’t mangy or dirty or underfed. I could see a collar around its neck.

My brain didn’t quite process it at first. It was…what’s the word—

[click, static]

incongruous. Didn’t make sense. Almost an entire minute passed before it clicked in my brain.

(huff of laughter) I turned around so fast. Drove slow, keeping my eyes peeled for it. When I finally saw it, I barely threw the car into park before jumping out.

I’m not sure what my plan was exactly, but I just…ran at the thing. It was walking along the side of the road, sniffing the ground, and I guess I thought—well, a dog looking like that, it must have some kind of human taking care of it, right? If it could…take me to its owner then maybe…

[click, static]

I know. But I did say that planning was never my thing.

It raced off, of course. And I like to think of myself as being pretty in shape—I guess all those years of not smoking has made it easier to run—but there was no way I was going to catch up to what I’m pretty sure was a border collie.

[click, static]

Despite my plans, I’ve ended up right back in the flat. I’m in Kansas now and given the other option was Texas, I guess it was going to be flat either way. But maybe it’s not a bad thing—if the land stretches as far as the eye can see when I’m driving, I might pick up on something in the distance I wouldn’t have otherwise noticed.

I’m gonna drive up and down the same road tomorrow, I think. Just in case I can catch sight of that dog again.

[click, static]

It’s strange, you know? Seeing something treated with such care. I don’t know much about dogs, but it seemed…happy. Even though it was all by itself, god knows how far away from its home or the person who’s looking after it, it looked happy.

I guess that’s what being cared for does. It makes it so that even the loneliest parts of life seem surmountable. When you’re accustomed to the feel of a warm hand, the night chill doesn’t seem so bad. When you’ve got someone to brush you down each night, or clean your collar, it doesn’t matter that you’re getting your feet dirty on a dusty road.

[click, static]

I know I’m not a dog, but sometimes I—

[click, static]

It’d be nice to be cared for. Or to have something to care for myself.

The absence of love…erodes you. It compounds, over and over, until even the tiniest moment of self-aware solitude feels like a knife sliding between your ribs.

[click, static]

But the reverse—the slightest bit of care—is a bulwark against so much. Loneliness is a bottomless pit with sides you can’t get a grip one and love is a ladder you can always use to climb your way out, even if there isn’t anyone at the top.

(huff) God, that’s maudlin. Here I am, jealous of a dog.

It looked soft.

[click, static]

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey. As a patron, you will also receive each week's episodes as one longer episode every Monday.

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

(sigh)

God, fine, you really want me to pay attention to this message, huh? I don’t see what’s so important about it, unless I’m translating it wrong.

[click, static]

“You and Harry, what happened?” That’s what you’re asking, right?

[click, static]

I don’t really know how to answer this, honestly. It’s not really much of a question at all.

[click, static]

I mean, what exactly are you asking? What happened when we were working together, what happened six years ago, what happened before I left? What?

A lot happened with Harry over the past fifteen years. There was that disastrous first meeting, then there were all the jobs we did after that... then there was the last job.

And it was really meant to be Harry’s last—like I said, she had wanted out and it was going to be a big payday. And everything was going exactly as planned up until the moment it wasn’t. And when things go wrong with what we do, they go really wrong.

We got caught, that’s the long and short of it. This was right before everything changed and—

[click, static]

You know what? I don’t want to tell you about that. And I don’t have to. Vague questions get...vague answers.

[click, static]

And, actually, while we’re talking about it—I don’t want to answer any questions about Harry at all anymore, okay? I’m...I don’t even know why I’ve been talking about her so much. I guess I’m in the habit of seeing her and therefore in the habit of thinking about her but now that I actually have someone to talk to, can we just forget all about her? She isn’t important.

[click, static]

Yeah, she’s not important. So I’m going to go ahead and put her in the “off limit topics” pile. Pick something else to ask me. There’s nothing that happened with Harry and I that’s worth telling.

Alright, Birdie, I’m signing off.

[click, static]

-.-- --- ..- / .- -. -.. / .... .- .-. .-. -.-- / .-- .... .- - / .... .- .--. .--. . -. . -.. ..--..

[You and Harry what happened?]

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey. As a patron, you will also receive each week's episodes as one longer episode every Monday.

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static] [beeps]

Hey, Birdie. Got your message. Thanks, for telling me something about you.

I’m not sure I totally understand it though? You said “Betrayed my job. Ruined my future.”

[click, static] That’s...

Look, first and foremost, I am not judging. Obviously. My job wasn’t something a lot of people would be proud of, but I’m—I guess I’m confused.

How do you betray a job? Do you mean someone at your job? Because, you know, your job—your “have to earn a living to survive” job doesn’t deserve your loyalty.

Didn’t deserve your loyalty. I’m assuming you’re not doing your job anymore.

[click, static]

And, I mean, if it makes you feel better, I don’t think any of us have a future to ruin anymore. I don’t know when, exactly, your whole thing happened, but no matter what, it wouldn’t have made a difference when everything happened.

[click, static]

But it sounds like...I don’t know, it sounds like you feel guilty. Maybe I’m reading into nothing—it is six words after all, and it’s not like morse code has a tone, but—

Betrayed is a big word. That’s what I’m sticking on. But I think... [click, static]

Look, I can’t tell you how to feel. And obviously I don’t know what your job was, but clearly it was important to you. But I think we have this idea that work is supposed to be everything, you know? You go work in an office so that you can make enough money to buy a white picket fence property in the suburbs and feed your wife and two children.

And if that was your life and you liked it, I’m not trying to say anything bad about it but...

It’s not the only way to live, is it? You don’t owe an office your life and living in the suburbs isn’t the pinnacle of success. And success isn’t the pinnacle of living!

[click, static]

I know I’m probably the last person who can speak on this topic with any kind of clear head. I am who I am—I’ve never done anything traditionally and I’ve never worked in a real office in my life. And like I said, I was never going to be anyone’s wife.

But I’d...invite you to think differently about your situation, whatever the specifics might be. There’s a lot to hate about the circumstances we’ve found ourselves it, but if there is an upside, its that we get to build our own futures now. At least, that’s how I’m trying to think of it.

I’m out here, aren’t I?

[click, static]

-... . - .-. .- -.-- . -.. / -- -.-- / .--- --- -... .-.-.- / .-. ..- .. -. . -.. / -- -.-- / ..-. ..- - ..- .-. . .-.-.-

[Betrayed my job. Ruined my future.]

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey. As a patron, you will also receive each week's episodes as one longer episode every Monday.

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static] [beeps]

I learned something new today. Cigarettes expire. Or, not so much as expire as go very, very stale.

[click, static] [beeps]

Or maybe I just don’t have the taste for it anymore. All I know is, that’s gotta be the biggest let down I’ve experienced since Harry and I thought we found a working television.

[click, static]

[beeps]

It did work, it literally turned on, there was just...you know, nothing on it. [click, static]

[beeps]

[click, static]

Okay, I get it, I get it. You’ve been broadcasting the same phrase all day. And it’s not that I haven’t decoded it yet, I just don’t (want to talk about it)—

[click, static]

Besides, I think it’s my turn for a question. So Birdie - what were you doing before all of this?

[click, static] Whiskey, signing off. [click, static]

[beeps]

-.-- --- ..- / .- -. -.. / .... .- .-. .-. -.-- / .-- .... .- - / .... .- .--. .--. . -. . -.. ..--..

[You and Harry what happened?]

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey. As a patron, you will also receive each week's episodes as one longer episode every Monday.

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

Breaker, breaker, channel nineteen, this is Whiskey Alpha Romeo, calling out for anyone on the line.

[click, static]

Breaker, breaker, this is WAR1974. Currently on State Highway 37, just west of Norman, Oklahoma.

[click, static]

Yeah, I figured it was a bit of a long shot. [click, static]

So I finally got to the point where I needed to start looking for more food —I’ve still got some jerky and some canned peaches, but I’ve definitely burned through my supply faster than I thought I would.

I’m not a huge fan of peaches.

[click, static]

Anyway, I popped into a grocery store in Norman—it was like every other grocery I’ve been to in the last six years. A lot of rot. Thank god for America’s insistence on canned food, huh? Otherwise I really would be shit out of luck.

I restocked, got some more beans and what not, but here's the really exciting thing—

[click, static] Cigarettes. [click, static]

God, remember cigarettes? I’d half forgotten that they existed. I hadn’t even thought to look for them until now because Harry never let me have them in the house. She hates the smell, always despised the habit. Which I always told her was absurd give she was an artist in New York - isn’t it, you know, mandatory for people like her? But she wouldn’t budge.

First year or so, I would just smoke out in the yard—way out in the yard —but I had to have a designated smoking jacket—not, you know, an actual smoking jacket, not a velvet thing, though I’m now understanding why smoking jackets exist. Huh. I’d never put two and two together on that one.

Um, mine was this massive Carhartt that was in the house we settled in —it must’ve belonged to a man who was about six five because I swam in it and I’m not a small person. It was too big to really do any work in, but it became the coat I smoked in. Because not only did I have to do it outside, but Harry would throw a fit when I came in smelling like smoke, so that Carhartt was designated to soak up cigarette smoke and be hung up in the shed.

That all got old after a while—having to skulk off anytime I wanted to enjoy a cigarette in my own home. So I just...stopped.

[click, static]

Harry was so annoying about it when I finally got over withdrawal. Because, yeah, I did feel better, but that could’ve been all the exercise I was getting or the lack of drinking or eating food fresh from the ground. It wasn’t necessarily giving up smoking.

[click, static]

Well, I don’t have to give it up anymore! I grabbed a bunch of different brands and I’m going to indulge, figure out which is the best now that I don’t have to worry about paying for them. Lemme tell you, it has really improved my day.

I hope you’ve got something to brighten your day too, Birdie. Whiskey out.

[click, static]

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey. As a patron, you will also receive each week's episodes as one longer episode every Monday.

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static] [beeps]

When I said I was grateful for you keeping things short, I didn’t mean you had to only send one word, but okay.

I’m assuming this is your first question. Just the word Harry and a question mark.

[click, static]

Harry. What can be said about Harry... [click, static]

Well, first of all, she’s never been a huge fan of that nickname. But I’ve never been a huge fan of my full name and she never called me by anything else even though the nickname for my full name is plenty common, so...

Harriet. Her name’s Harriet. Harriet Statdler. If you happened to be really tapped into the West Village art scene, you might have actually heard of her. But I’m going to guess that...you’re not and you haven’t.

She was a painter. Is a painter. Because oil paints were deemed essential supplies that were worth going outside of our little boundary for, when trying to track down a coffee grinder so that we could actually use the whole bean coffee we found would involve “too much exploring” and be “too risky”.

[click, static]

As you might be able to guess, Harry was the more paranoid out of the two of us.

[click, staticc]

Which I guess makes sense. She lived a lot more carefully than I did. I mean, she had a legitimate—if not particularly profitable—career as a an artist under her real name. That’s how good she was at hiding what she did to actually make money. And I guess having a certain amount of paranoia is helpful for someone like that.

We...

[click, static]

Oh what the hell, it’s probably pretty obvious by now—what Harry and I did was not exactly what you’d call “legal”. The two of us...Pete, Richie, Don, fucking Francis Lennon—we were all part of a, uh...underground art appreciation group.

[click, static]

Well, Harry and Francis appreciated the art. I appreciated the money. [click, static]

There were other folks we worked with, and every job wasn’t always all of us, but that was the core group. Francis, of course, was never on the jobs, his role came...after. And sometimes before, when he had a good tip.

Harry was the art expert we would take with us. She knew everything about it, knew how to handle it, how to protect it, transport it. Would know if there was something particularly valuable that we might overlook.

[click, static]

I remember being so excited when she joined the team. The guys were never...rude or weird about working with a woman, but it was still...it was isolating, sometimes, being the only woman in my line of work. At least on all the crews I was on. So I guess I thought it might be nice to have someone around who got it, you know? Who understood what it was like to have certain people underestimate you the moment they saw you.

[click, static]

But Harry...well, Harry was not there to understand anyone. We were all gathered, planning the job, and I made one stupid joke about the piece we were targeting—I don’t even remember what the joke was, but the piece was one of those modern sculpture things that looked like it was molded by a five year old and—

[click, static]

You know, I probably said something pretty much just like that. And Harry, well, she did not care for it. She dressed me down in front of everyone, called me some kind of five dollar word like...plebeian or philistine or something and...that was that.

That was probably the friendliest interaction we had while working together.

[click, static]

So, uh, that’s Harry. She’s someone I used to work with. And she’s a total snob.

[click, static]

.... .- .-. .-. -.-- ..--..

[Harry?]

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

[beeps]

Breaker, breaker, channel seven, Whiskey calling out for Birdie.

[click, static]

Alright, this new one—“Alone alone. Never confirmed others. Haven’t moved.”

I appreciate you keeping things short—I’m happy to take the time figuring out whatever you send, however long, but I’m thinking maybe it isn’t the most fun for you to tap all of it out on whatever system you’ve got set up. Or maybe you’re not able to for some reason. Either way... yeah, thanks. Thanks for giving so much with so little.

[click, static]

You say you haven’t confirmed others, so I’m wondering if that means you’ve had some potential encounters? I’m going to guess they’ve been on whatever radio you’re using, so maybe that’s why you’ve had a hard time confirming. And if you can’t call out...well, not everyone is going to bother figuring out morse, or even recognize it if they’re just scanning through channels really fast. And you say you haven’t moved. Which might limit the likelihood of someone hearing your messages, but then again, you seem to have rigged something up to broadcast far far.

[click, static]

But maybe that’s a recent development for you.

What were you doing before? Do you remember the day that everything went all...hinky?

[click, static]

I guess it’s your turn to ask questions. I can be patient. I’ve got nothing else to do.

[click, static]

I think I mentioned already but we were...away from regular society when it all changed. Laying low, I guess you could call it. Maybe you’ll ask a question about that, but—

Could you maybe not ask any questions about that? Not yet, anyway. I think that’s more, uh, tenth date stuff, you know?

[click, static]

Anyway, all to say that if there’s any way to have been even more ignorant of the events of the world than we were in that time...I have a hard time imagining it.

[click, static]

I’ve tried, so many times over the years, to think back on those weeks and really try to remember anything that was off—a sound, a flash of light, a smell on the air, anything.

All I can remember are the dreams—the nightmares—that I was having. And those were about—well, it was obvious what they were about. It has nothing to do with...well, with anything.

[click, static]

I wonder if it even matters anymore. [click, static]

There are those times I wonder if we did experience it happening— whatever it was—and we just didn’t think about it at the time because it’s what gave us the opportunity we had.

[click, static]

Maybe I’ve said that before. It’s hard to know what thoughts are the same ones that have been running around in my head forever and what thoughts are the ones I’m actually saying aloud.

Like sometimes you’ll have a conversation with someone in your dream and then the next day be talking to that very same person only to realize that you’re referencing a conversation with them that never actually happened.

[click, static]

I’ve had so many conversations with Harry in my dreams. Those ones are usually pretty obviously not real though.

[click, static]

But this is a little like that, you and me. A conversation and not. Speaking my thoughts aloud while you’re limited to three word sentences, forced to listen to me ramble on about nothing at all.

[click, static]

Who are you talking to in your dreams? Who have you been trying to find with your messages all these years?

[click, static]

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[beeps] [click, static]

Hey Birdie.

Thanks for being so fast in giving me a new message. I’m telling you, maybe we can figure out a way to sign on at the same time, do a little back and forth.

But in the meantime, you said—“Am alone. No physical voice. No idea what happened.”

[click, static]

That makes two of us. On the “doesn’t know what happened” front anyway. And the “alone” front. Though, maybe we’re not really alone anymore?

[click, static]

I’m not going to say I’m sorry that you can’t physically speak because I don’t know your situation and I know I hate it when it seems like someone is pitying me for something I don’t feel badly about.

Did that make sense? I guess, what I mean to say is—I’m sorry if something happened to you that was, you know, traumatic, that made things that way, but also maybe you’ve never been able to speak and it’s not a big deal to you. Either way, I’m thankful you’ve taken the time to figure out how to talk to me in spite of it. And I swear I’m not going to be a jerk anymore.

[click, static]

Well, a jerk about this specifically. You tell me you can’t do the voice-to- voice thing and that’s fine. But I still want to, you know, know things. I still find other aspects of this whole deal frustrating as hell.

But, well, if we’re gonna do this, if we’re going to be not alone together, I figure things should be fair. You answered a question of mine, so now I’ll answer one of yours. You just let me know.

[click, static]

Oh, also, wait, I do have one more question that I think is relevant to this whole getting on even footing thing—or really, a clarification of an answer you’ve already given. Have you seen or heard from anyone else in the last six years?

[click, static]

Alright, signing off.

[click, static]

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.