Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Wisdom and a Prostitute

I downed a full glass of beer and stood up on the table.
"Listen!" I yelled. "I know most of you are here because of me." Everyone became silent. "I just wanted to say that I don't care."
"Care about what?!" someone shouted from the crowd.
"I don't care that you're here," I continued. "You mean nothing to me. Why do you think I'm leaving? Sure, most of us have had some good times; but those times are over. I can't stand you people anymore. I know I'll be missed, especially by some of the women here. I've dated some of you, fucked you, wined you, dined you, hucked you, chucked you; I even spanked a few of you. I know you're all thinking I'm acting like an asshole right now but allow me to tell you that I've always been an asshole. I came here to have a few drinks on my last night in this rotten town. I didn't invite any of you to come because I didn't want to see any of you. You all make me sick."
I stepped down off the table and almost slipped on some spilt beer. I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and walked towards the back door.
"Are you leaving?" Greg asked.
"I'm just having a smoke," I said.
"That was some speech. Was it supposed to be serious?"
"You tell me," I said, and walked away.
As I opened the back door I saw a couple of girls that I used to hang out with, waiting for a cab.
"And here he is," one of them said, "the big man on campus."
"Why don't you tell us how much you hate us," another one said.
"Yeah, tell us what skanks we are," said the last one.
"Listen," I said, "I don't hate you girls on a personal level; I hate all women."
They started walking aggressively towards me.
"Just wait a second," I said. "Hear me out. I've always hated women; but women hate men too so it's an even trade."
"We don't hate men," said Gina, the tallest and better looking one of the group, “we just like to use them."
"And I like to use women," I said. "Why can't we just get drunk and use each other? I mean, just throw respect completely out the window, get blackout drunk in a hotel room and see where that takes us.”
“You’re dreaming,” said Natasha, a short brunette with curly hair.
“Oh, I’m dreaming alright,” I said, “but not about you. What do you say Gina?”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked.
“I never joke about getting blackout drunk.”
“Is this how you pick up women these days?” asked Tawnya, the timid one of the group. She wasn’t a virgin, but everything from her clothes to her personality said otherwise.
“I’m not really into picking women up,” I said, “I prefer dropping them after a good fuck.”
“You’re awful,” said Tawnya.
“You really are an asshole, Nick,” Gina said.
“I’m guessing none of you are willing to blow me then?”
“He’s always been an asshole,” said Natasha as they walked towards a cab. “And by the way, you can blow yourself.”
“That’s a damned lie!” I yelled. “And believe me, I’ve tried!” I lit a cigarette and stared off into the clouds.
“That was a good one, man!” said a young guy who looked no older than eighteen.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, and put my smoke out and went back inside. I walked over to the bar immediately and tried to avoid the crowd. The bartender saw that I was waiting but chose to ignore me.
“Can I get a double Crown Royal over here,” I said.
He looked over at me but continued talking to a waitress.
“Hey buddy! Some whiskey; come on!” I yelled.
He held up his hand and gave me the ‘one minute’ signal. What a prick.
“Listen, I haven’t got all night! Get your ass over here!”
“You got a fucking problem or something?” he asked, as he finally walked towards me.
“You’re damned right I got a fucking problem. I’m standing sober in a bar. Do you mind doing your job and pouring me a drink. You do want a tip, don’t you?”
“Do you want your cheap looking ass thrown out of here?”
I looked down at my shirt which was all black with no brand name, and rum spilt across the chest. “I got style, mother fucker. Don’t let the stain fool you. And judging by your attire, you wouldn’t know style if it slapped you in the fucking face.”
“Everybody’s tough when they’re drunk,” he said, then poured my drink.
I handed him more than enough cash for the whiskey. “You can keep the change and by yourself some makeup; or save up for a fucking face lift,” I mumbled, as I walked towards my table.
“Nick, over here!” yelled Greg.
God damn it, I thought; why won’t he leave me alone? I sat down across from him at the table. Greg and I had been friends for five years. We hung out a lot for the first few years, but then, just like everyone else, he got annoying. He was sitting with Angela, an ex girlfriend of mine, and her best friend Jamie; a real stuck up bitch.
“What are you drinking?” asked Greg.
“Whiskey; I always drink whiskey,” I told him.
“I’m trying out some of this cider. I’ve never had it before. It’s actually pretty good. It’s sweet but not too…”
I interrupted him. “Did you say you’re drinking cider?”
“Here we go,” said Jamie.
“What do you mean, ‘here we go’? Nobody asked you to be here. I’ve always hated you.”
“You’ve always hated everyone,” said Angela. “That’s why I broke up with you.”
“You couldn’t fuck for shit,” I said and stood up.
“Don’t go, man. It’s your last night before you move to Europe. Let’s just get drunk and stop fighting,” Greg said.
“I’m not going to spend my last night here drinking with an ex girlfriend, a cunt, and a queer that sips on cider.” I walked over to the bar and slammed my empty glass on the counter. “You need to clean this glass,” I said to the bartender, “along with your whore of a mother’s dirty pussy!” I yelled, and quickly made my way out the front door. I saw a cab pull up and ran over and got in.
“Where to sir?” the driver asked.
“Just drive!”
As the car started moving forward I saw the bartender come charging out the front door. I rolled down the window and leaned my head out as he ran closely behind the cab.
“Get your ass back here!” he screamed. “Get your coward ass back here!”
“I’m leaving mother fucker! I’m going to fuck your girlfriend! I’ll fuck every crevasse on her fat ass!”
I closed the window and grinned as the driver stared at me through the rear view mirror.
“You like that?” I asked.
He looked straight ahead and continued to drive silently.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like what I did?”
His eyes panned back and forth from the rear view mirror to the road.
“Stop checking me out,” I said. “I’m not into any cab driver confessions or whatever else you got planned. Just take me to the airport and keep your eyes on the road.”

I had six hours to wait for my flight. I thought about sleeping but the craving for more alcohol outweighed my exhaustion. There was a bar beside the waiting area so naturally I walked over to it and ordered a drink. I saw an older man finishing a drink in the corner. I paid for my drink and looked around. There was a young brunette sitting at a table minding her own business. She looked lost like the rest of us. Her hair was wild but she seemed tame. She had probably just gotten out of a gang bang in the washroom. She must be an airport prostitute, I thought.
She saw me staring at her so she lifted her drink. “To failure,” she said.
“And misery,” I said, as I lifted my glass.
“You getting on a plane?” she asked.
“I was thinking about it. I bought a ticket, went through customs, and walked all this way. I should probably go through with it.”
She laughed. “You’re probably right. I can’t wait to get out of this city.”
“Where you headed?”
“Good choice.”
“Where you off to?”
“Europe as well,” I said.
“Where abouts?”
“Italy; I’ve got some family there. I’ve only met them once when I was about five years old. I barely remember what they look like.”
“Sounds like you got it all figured out.”
“It sounds a lot better than it is.”
“Everything does,” she said, and we both took a sip of our drinks. “What are you working on there?”
“Whiskey’s about all I drink.”
“You don’t say,” I said, as I walked over and sat across from her.
“Now now,” she said, “don’t be getting any ideas.”
“Shit,” I said, “and here I was, hoping I’d get to see your office.”
“My office?”
“Where all your business takes place; the washroom.”
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“You’re an air whore, aren’t you?”
“What the hell’s an air whore?”
“An airport prostitute; you find rich looking businessmen who are waiting for their flights.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m drunk.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m always serious when I’m drunk. Everyone is.”
“Well no, I’m not an air hoe.”
“Air whore.”
“Whatever. I’m not a hoe, a whore, or anything of the sort.”
“I thought about being a whore once,” I said.
She laughed. “You’re something.”
“I’d make a great whore.”
“Is that so? And what kind of women would you whore yourself out to?”
“Anybody,” I said. “I could sell sex to a nun.”
“I didn’t think nuns were allowed to have sex?”
“Well, that’s just how good I’d be.”
She laughed. “Well, how about another drink? We have a few hours to kill.”
“You paying?”
“Absolutely not. You’re the man, you pay.”
“Maybe you should pay,” I said.
“Why’s that?
“Well, if I pay, then I’ll actually start believing you’re an air whore.”
“Don’t piss me off,” she said. “We’ll switch, round for round. I’ll get the first one.”
“I can deal with that.”
We got a few more shots of whiskey and talked about Italy. She told me she was going to travel from the North all the way to the South. She didn’t have a plan but she didn’t seem to think she’d run into any problems. I told her I was going to Urbino to work with my Great Uncle at a bakery.
“You’re not going to travel a bit first?” she asked.
“I don’t care to sight see. I’m going so I can get the hell out of this place.”
“That’s one way to do it.”
“I can’t stand the people here.”
“What people?”
“Everybody; my friends, my family, the traffic, the people I work with, the cashiers at the grocery store, the bus drivers, the people on the street that walk so god damned slow when you’re behind them; all those fuckers.”
“So, by everybody, you really did mean everybody?” she laughed. “What makes you think these people don’t exist in Italy?”
“Oh, I don’t think that. They exist everywhere. I just get a good feeling when I think of living in Italy.”
“You just like the idea of all the women and the wine.”
“The wine comes before the women.”
“I can’t disagree with that,” she said.
I stood up after finishing my drink. “Listen,” I said, “I’m going to the washroom but I’ll be back.”
“I should be here when you get back,” she said.
“It’s not like you have a place to go.”
“Then again, my glass is a little dry. I just might have to find someone else to buy me a drink.”
“Get a couple more then,” I said, and put some cash on the table.
I staggered through the crowd and made it into the washroom. I didn’t think she’d be waiting for me once I got back to the table after I realized I had given her some money. She could be working the bars for free drinks and really, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
“Fuck I hate airports,” I said to an older man who was shaving at the sink. “Too many god damned people walking around.”
“Would you mind putting your dick back in your pants before starting a conversation with me son,” he said. He looked like a war veteran; a real hard ass.
I finished pissing in the urinal and zipped up. “Not comfortable with male nudity?” I asked.
“If you call that male nudity; hell, I’ve seen bigger bullets than that.”
“I like your style,” I said, as I washed my hands in the sink next to him.
“Now you’re hitting on me?”
“You got some attitude, old man. You’re an asshole, which is fine by me.”
“I’m no asshole, son. I’m a rotten, bitter old man. I’ve taken enough shit in my day to be nice and generous.”
“Amen,” I said.
“A God boy too huh?” he said, and spat on the floor.
“Oh, no; it’s just a saying.”
“Yeah, it’s a saying for all those Christian cocksuckers. I bet if one of those bible thumpers actually met God they’d get on their knees and open wide.”
I laughed. “He’d do it too. With the hell we go through each day, I bet he’d love sticking his cock in everyone’s mouth. If I was God, I’d definitely make a lot of people suck my dick.”
“You’re a real son of a bitch, kid. What’s your name?”
“I’m just an asshole. My name’s Nick.”
“You get a lot of women with that foul mouth?”
“Now and then.”
“If there’s one thing a woman loves, it’s a man with a dirty mouth.”
“They pretend they’re offended by it.”
“Oh, it’s not pretend. They are definitely offended by it, but that’s why they love it so much. It shows you aren’t a prissy young boy, acting like a fairy just because they’re around.”
“I always say, you should just say what you gotta say.”
“Just shut up boy. You can’t go around running your mouth to everyone, any time you god damned well want to.”
“You were running your mouth to me not even five minutes ago.”
“You’re drunk; you’re smaller than me, and you don’t have a damned clue. You remind me a lot of myself at your age; a cocky little shit. You need to be cocky though. These broads aren’t looking for nice guys. They like the dangerous types, the risk takers, all the crazy bastards.”
“I take a risk every time I fuck a woman without a condom. I live a dangerous life of dodging STD’s, and I’m crazy enough to continue doing it.”
“Exactly! And you’ve got to keep doing it. Fuck every broad willing to spread her legs for you. Take them all for granted. Don’t use condoms; don’t use lube; don’t use any of that shit. You’ve got to do it raw, do it fast, and get the hell out.”
“You’ve got some wisdom there old man.”
He rinsed his face and threw his disposable razor in the trash. “Now, if you haven’t had too much to drink and your dick still works, go find a broad out there and bring her in here. Then once you get the job done and get on your plane, you’ll fall asleep in no time,” he said, and walked out.
I thought about having a cigarette in the washroom but decided it wasn’t worth the risk. They treat smokers like terrorists these days. After opening the door to go back to the bar, the young brunette stepped into the doorway.
“Need any help in there?” she asked.
“Like someone to hold my dick?”
“Hold it, lick it, suck it, fuck it,” she said.
Jesus, I thought, she’s a prostitute after all. “I knew you were an air whore!”
“I’m whatever you want me to be if you’re money’s right.”
“Now you’re talking.”
She pushed me lightly back into the washroom and locked the door behind her. “It’s a hundred for the mouth and two hundred for the goods.”
“Shit, I could jerk off for free."
"You want it before a flight, you've got to pay for it. Take it or leave it."
"By the goods, you mean both holes?”
“Any hole; if you can fit into it, give it all you got baby.”
I handed her a hundred.
“So, you’re a blowjob kind of a guy?”
“I’ll pretend that I’m God.”
“A role player too, OK, I’ll make you feel like God.”
She ripped my pants down and pushed me back into a stall. I tripped and landed sitting on a toilet. Good thing the seat was down, I thought. I closed my eyes while she went to work. It was real rough and messy; she really knew was she was doing. She stopped for a second and reached into her purse and pulled out a flask with some whiskey in it.
“Have some of this, on me,” she said, and went back to work.
I started chugging the whiskey as she went harder. She was like a machine. I finished the flask almost immediately after she gave it to me. I stretched out my legs as I finished and knocked her back out of the stall door.
“Fucking Christ!” she yelled.
“Christ is right baby,” I said. “You really did make me feel like God.”
“Watch your legs!”
“These are the legs of God himself. Look how sexy they are.”
She got up and rinsed her mouth in the sink.
“So, you’re not going to Italy?” I asked. The bathroom door slammed shut a few minutes later. Well, I thought, I guess I won’t get to introduce her to my family. That’s a shame, because I’m sure they’d love to meet an airport prostitute.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

My First Romanian

After finishing my lunch I poured a drink and picked up the phone to call her.
"Hello," she answered.
"Is this Ramona?"
"Yes. Who's this?
"It's Nick. We met at the party last night."
"Remember, I told you I was going to run for Mayor to clean up the city and you went on and on about how you think the city is fine the way it is; which, by the way, is complete bullshit."
"It's not bullshit! I remember you! We shared some whiskey together in the kitchen and I listened to you rant."
"Are you kidding me? That wasn't a rant. I was just trying to enlighten you. I try to enlighten every female I meet."
"Nope! I'm pretty sure I just listened to you rant!" she laughed. "What makes you think females need to be enlightened?"
"They need a lot more than that, darling."
"Is that so?"
"That's why you see more females attending college and university."
"I don't think there's more females in college and university. I've been going to university for two years and I haven't noticed anything like that."
"Obviously not. Nobody has enlightened you on the matter yet."
"You're a cheeky one. Maybe there's more females in college and university because we're smarter and able to accomplish more than a man."
"See, I knew you'd say something like that."
"Of course you did."
"The thing is men already know everything they teach in college and university."
"Then why are their men at colleges and universities around the world?"
"To get laid."
She laughed. "There may be some truth to that, actually."
"Of course there is. Everything I say has some truth to it."
"Only some truth?"
"Well, I'm not going to lie."
"Wouldn't only 'some' truth mean that you are in fact lying?"
"Just forget it."
"Wow, The Great Nick gets stopped in his tracks. That probably doesn't happen to you very often, does it?"
'Young blond Ramona gets tied down to some tracks. That's probably never happened to you, has it?"
"No, I can't say it has."
"Well, let's keep it that way; for now."
"You're evil!"
"Just wait till I'm Mayor."
"I'll personally see that you never become Mayor!"
I took a sip of the drink I had forgotten about.
"Yeah, I'm here. I'm just having a drink."
"Oh, so that's how it is. Alcohol is more important than me?"
"That's precisely how it is."
"Hey! That's not the way to talk to a lady!"
"Whoever said you were a lady?"
"You saw me last night!"
"Do you actually think I remember last night?"
"You remembered me."
"I remembered a blond that stole some of my whiskey. I got your phone number from Anthony so I could collect."
"Collect what?"
"Well, I think you owe me some whiskey."
"Well, I think you owe me some more enlightenment."
"Are you mocking me?"
"I would never do such a thing."
"It's a deal. You give me some whiskey and I'll let you in on some grown up issues."
"Grown up issues? How young do you think I am?"
"Well, hopefully no older than thirteen."
"You're disgusting!"
"I'm kidding. Thirteen is a little too old for me."
"Oh my god…"
"So, do you want to write down my address?"
"After hearing comments like that you expect me to get whiskey plus bring it right to your doorstep?"
"That's the price of intelligence babe."
I gave her my address and she said she'd be over before 8pm.

At about 7:30 I opened a bottle of wine. I knew Ramona was bringing whiskey but I couldn’t wait that long. I had to have something to get my thoughts flowing. She was expecting some sort of information and by the sounds of it, she needed it. I’m going to help this poor girl, I thought; I’m going to change her life.
I heard a knock. “Well well,” I said as I opened the door, “the maid is off tonight so the place may be a bit messy. Also, my lobbyist ate all the food while we were working on my campaign; I hope you’re not hungry.
“I’m fine,” she said, as she took her coat off.
I looked over and noticed how thin her wrists were. My god, I thought, her skin is almost transparent she’s so skinny. She had short blond hair and wore a lot of thick, expensive clothing; probably to hide how skinny she was.
“Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”
“I’m fine.”
“Seriously, I have food. You can eat if you want.”
“I’d rather have a drink.”
I walked into the kitchen with the whiskey. Not even alcohol can turn this skeleton into a human being.
“Are you going to make me a drink?”
“I’m making one right now.”
“Don’t make it too strong!”
I put the bottle to my lips and let it flow in. I needed a miracle to make this work.
“How do you turn the T.V. on?”
What a great idea, I thought. I can stare at the T.V. and try not to think about her arm shattering if she leans against me. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
“I got it! See, I’m smart!”
She turns a T.V. on and acts like she built a plane engine… from scratch. “Good, good,” I said as I walked into the living room with the drinks, “now maybe you can hand me the remote.”
“I can handle it, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried. There’s just a show I want to watch.”
“Which one?”
“Saving Private Ryan.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve never seen it? It’s a World War 2 movie with Tom Hanks.”
“I don’t like war movies.”
“Of course you don’t, you gypsy.”
“I know you’re Romanian.”
She laughed. “How do you know I’m Romanian?”
“You told me last night.”
“I thought you didn’t remember last night?”
“It comes and goes. So, have you ever churned butter?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, Romanians and all their churning.”
“What the hell is churning?”
“I don’t know. Something Romanians do.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well, I’m sorry I can’t enlighten you about churning butter. Fortunately, I’m not Romanian.”
“Hey! That’s not nice.”
“Neither is lying about whether you churn butter or not.”
“OK, seriously, I don’t know what churning butter is. Romania is known for skiing and rock climbing, castles, and Transylvania.”
“Oh, right. Dracula and all that shit.”
“Yes, Dracula…” she said.
“Then who churns butter?”
“I don’t know who the hell churns butter or what churning butter even is!”
“I think it’s like making wine. You know how people get in barrels filled with grapes and stomp them with their feet to make wine? I think Romanians get in barrels filled with butter and just slide around in it with their bare feet. That’s got to be what churning is.”
“Who knows?”
“Let’s leave it at that. Romanians in barrels of butter with their bare feet; problem solved.”
I grabbed the remote and put Saving Private Ryan on.
“I told you I don’t like war movies!”
“Let’s watch a little. Learn to enjoy the sound of gunfire and the sight of mutilated bodies and destroyed cities.”
“You’re strange.”
We sat there for a bit watching the movie. I started drinking heavily to take my mind off her body. It was almost unbearable. I couldn’t even look in her direction. I noticed her moving a bit closer to me on the couch.
I stood up quickly. “Another drink?” I asked.
“I’m still finishing this one.”
“That's your first one. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’ve only been here for 15 minutes. What do you mean what’s wrong with me?”
“I’ve had four drinks already. Plus some wine before you got here!”
“Why did you have wine before I came?”
“I didn’t want to wait for you. You know, girls and being late and all that.”
“I wasn’t late though.”
“I couldn’t take that risk.”
"Fine, pour me another drink."
"Atta girl."
I walked into the kitchen and took another drink straight from the bottle. Jesus, I thought, I'm starting to lose it. Maybe I should just shove some food down her throat?
"Did you want anything to eat now?"
"Just the drink please."
I brought the drinks along with the bottle back into the living room. I'm going to need all I can get.
"Why are you bringing the bottle in here?"
"I'm tired of getting up and going into the kitchen."
"Oh, well, thanks for the drink."
"Don't mention it. It's not like I paid for it," I said as I winked at her.
She laughed. "So, how about my lesson on grown up issues?"
"Not now babe. Look, someone's about to get shot in the head."
"I don't care. I'm not watching this, Nick."
"Well, I am."
"We'll see about that," she said, as she grabbed my head and pulled it towards her. I tried to resist but for a 42 pound girl she had some strength. I started to kiss her then felt a tongue smear accross my upper lip. It moved accross my cheek and then she shoved it violently into my mouth and almost choked me. I pushed her back, not caring if I snapped a limb off her body.
"What's wrong?," she asked.
"Oh, nothing," I said, as I wiped my face off with my shirt. "I just really want to see someone get shot in the face."
She grabbed me again and pulled me till I was laying on top of her.
I jumped up in fear. "Jesus christ!" I yelled. "Are you OK?"
"I'm fine! My god Nick, what's wrong with you?"
"Well, you know, uh, I'm not that light."
"Don't worry about it. I'll be fine," she said, and pulled me in for round 3.
I started to kiss her again from the side and kept my eyes on the movie. I only opened my mouth slightly just in case she tried to choke me again. I felt her tongue thrusting against my lips, trying to find an entrance. It was like the crusades trying to break into a castle to take it over. I wasn't giving in. She started flailing her tongue around rapidly all over the edge of my mouth. This must be how they kiss in Romania, I thought. I reached my hand down and undid her pants carefully. I thought about taking them off, but I started to imagine her hips caving in if I tried. Her mouth started moving more furiously, full of anger. She wanted her tongue in my mouth, but I was holding her off as best as I could. She began punching me in the back. Her fists moved around, hitting my upper and lower back, and moving to my ribs.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked.
She slipped her tongue in my mouth and pushed it around all over. I tried to force it out, but it was too strong. It was the only muscle on her body. I finally managed to get it out.
"Listen," I said, "stop for a second."
"What's with all the punching?"
"It's fun," she said, as she hit me again in the ribs.
"Stop! Seriously, what's wrong with you?" I grabbed the whiskey and had a drink. Maybe the churning butter comment pissed her off.
"That's right, take a drink; man up."
"It only took one drink to turn you into a maniac."
"Man up! Have another drink!" she yelled, as she punched me again in the spine.
"Seriously woman, what the hell is the matter with you!?"
She took her pants off, squirming underneath me like a worm.
"What do you think about that?" she said.
I looked down, hoping for the best. Her thin legs were underneath a pillow, thank god. "It looks great."
"Well, don't just stare at it!" She forced my head down between her thighs.
I went at it hard. If I can't enlighten this broad mentally, I'll do it physically. It tasted sweet, like pure sugar. It was like eating a bag of skittles. "I can taste the rainbow!" I yelled.
"Shutup!" she screamed. "Don't stop!"
I kept going and going as she screamed. I started to slow down, thinking about her body again. It was an awful sight, it really was. I almost came to a complete stop, thinking that she might be a squirter. I stuck my head out from between her thighs, like a soldier in a trench. "Mind if I finish you with my hand?"
"I guess," she said.
I leaned up beside her, making sure I wasn't on top of her and finished her off.
"Oh Nick, that was amazing."
I took a sip of the whiskey. She wasn't a squirter afterall. I took my pants off and looked at her.
"Give me a minute," she said.
Selfish, I thought, like all women.
"Come on now, the whiskey is flowing towards my dick. Once it gets there, the night is over."
"What do you want me to do?"
"What do you mean? Get it done babe."
What the hell is this, I thought. "Just, I don't know, hop on." She got on top of me and laid there like a corpse while I put it in.
"I'm not sure what to do now," she said. "I've never been in this position before."
Dear god, I thought. What kind of gypsy trick is this? "Slide up and down. It's pretty self explanatory."
"Sorry, I've only had sex once before."
I started to get soft. "Just keep going," I said.
"I'm not sure if I'm doing it right."
I was almost completely limp now. I pushed her off.
"What's wrong? Was that bad?"
"Listen, it's hard to concentrate. You keep talking about how you don't know what you're doing. That's not helping. Can you just finish me off with your mouth?"
"Um, well, I've never done that before. I don't know what to do."
And now my dick basically curled into my body. "Ok, well, just use your hand."
She leaned against me and attempted to finish me off with her tiny, boney hands as I finished the whiskey. It wasn't happening so I stopped her. "Forget about it," I said, and put my pants back on.
"What's the matter? Are you mad?"
My phone started ringing; perfect timing.
"Hello?" I answered. It was a friend of mine, Randy. "I'll be back," I told Ramona. I walked out of the living room and went into my bedroom.
"What's up," Randy said.
"Oh, man, I'm in one hell of a situation. You got any alcohol?"
"Of course I do. You want to get out of that situation and come join this situation?"
"What situation are you in?"
"I'm just sitting here, getting black out drunk."
"That's my kind of situation."
"Come on over."
"I'll try to get out of this. See you soon."
I hung up and walked back into the living room. Ramona was still laying on the couch with her pants off.
"Everything OK?" she asked.
"Yeah, that was just my buddy Randy. He's sort of stuck at work because he missed his bus."
"He sort of missed his bus?"
"Well, he missed his bus. He has no way of getting home now."
"How far away does he work?"
"About 20 minutes away. He doesn't have any cash to cab home either. I told him I'd help him out and give him a ride."
"Oh, ok. Do you want me to go with you?"
"Uh, well, uh, do you mind if I just give you a call later?"
"You want me to wait here?"
The brains on this one, I thought. "No, I mean, I can give you a call at your place later, if you don't mind.
"So you want me to go home?"
"Well, I'll be a while, plus I'm pretty tired."
"Fine," she said, in an angry tone.
"Don't be mad," I said. "It's not like I planned this." I walked into the kitchen and had some of the wine I opened ealier. I heard the front door slam hard and that was it; she was gone. I picked up the phone and called Randy.
"Yo," he answered.
"Hey man, I'm out the door in a few minutes. I managed to get this crazy broad out of my apartment."
"Any advice?"
"Yeah, don't ask Romanians if they churn butter.

Monday, October 11, 2010

2 Days, 7 Trips, and 12 Minutes in Heaven


“Let’s order a pizza,” Jack said.
“Can you really eat now?”
“I think I can.”
“Bullshit. Have a drink.”
“We’ve got to eat something, man.”
“I’ll get one of the broads to cook us something.”
“They won’t be here for another hour, man, I can’t wait that long.”
“Then order a fucking pizza.”
“Do you want anything?”
“Ask them if they’ll stop at the liquor store on the way here. Tell them we’ll pay extra.”
“I don’t think they do that sort of thing.”
“Well, we’ve got to make one more trip before they get here. This isn’t enough.”
“Aren’t they bringing anything?”
“A bottle of rum, but, who wants to drink that shit. I need some more whiskey.”
“Do you know how much whiskey you’ve had today? Not to mention all the beer and wine man.”
“What are you, my sponsor? Order your pizza.”
He picked up the phone and started dialing.
“Actually,” I said, “I’ll pick it up after the liquor store.”
“Get a couple cans of pop too while you're there.”
“You’re drinking liquor tonight, Jack. I’m not paying for any pop.”
“I’m paying for it.”
“I’m not getting any pop.”
I got up and walked out the front door. Just as I was about to get in my car, Jack came running.
“You forgot the money, man!” he yelled.
He staggered down the stairs and gave me a hand full of cash. It was a lot more than what the pizza was going to cost; lucky me. What was he going to do about it? I had to drive a fair distance again to the cold beer and wine store just outside of town. On the way there I stopped at a pizza parlor and ordered a large for Jack. I told the girl I had to make another stop and I’d be back to pick it up shortly. She smiled before I left, but I was too drunk to care. As I pulled into the parking lot at the liquor store I saw it was no longer deserted. I got out of the car and lit a cigarette and had a look around. There was a young girl standing beside the front door.
“You need someone to buy you some liquor?” I asked.
“No thanks. I’m just waiting for my ride.”
“It’s no problem, really.”
“I can buy my own alcohol, thanks.”
“This place serves minors?”
“I’m twenty two.”
“No shit?”
“I just look young, I guess.”
“That’s not a bad thing, darling. Your boyfriend picking you up?”
“No, my girlfriend is picking me up. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Damn, a fine girl like you without a boyfriend; that’s not right.”
She smiled. “What’s your name?”
“They call me Nick.”
“They call you Nick? Or your name is Nick?”
“What’s the difference?”
“I don’t know. Some people have nicknames.”
“How can a name and a nickname be the same name?”
“That’s a lot of nicks and names.”
We both laughed. “Why don’t you and your friend come back to my place?” I asked.
“Why don’t you just come to the bar?”
I slipped off the curb we were standing on. “I’m too drunk for the bar. I also have to pick up a pizza for my friend who’s waiting at my house.”
“Your friend cute?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“An easy one to answer. Either he’s cute or he’s not.”
“He’s a guy; he looks like a guy. He doesn’t look like a dog or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I thought men referred to women as dogs?”
“Men can be dogs too.”
“Aren’t men pigs?”
“I actually thought we were all human.”
We both laughed. “Let me grab a bottle of whiskey, I’ll be right back,” I said.
“Don’t be long. I might not be here when you get back.”
“Maybe I should tie you up then, like a dog.”
“Asshole,” she said, smiling.
I went inside and grabbed a bottle of Jameson. Trip number seven; how I’m still standing, I’ll never know. After I picked up a bottle of whiskey I got a bottle of white wine just in case the women didn't have anything. I had no idea what I was going to do about the brunette and her friend now, but at this point I didn't care. I found a couple of new girls and that’s all that mattered. There was a long lineup at the first cashier so I made my way to the other one that was open.
"Looks like these people enjoy standing in lines," I said to the cashier, a middle aged woman.
"What do you mean?"
"Look at them standing there, like a bunch of chickens on a conveyer belt. They could have come over here."
"Maybe they aren't in a rush?"
"Maybe; or it could be you."
"Pardon me?"
"Well, you aren't smiling for one thing. You've got to loosen up, unbutton that shirt and put your hair down. You don't have to look your age," I said, as I paid for the alcohol and got my receipt.
"You son of a bitch!" she yelled. "How dare you!"
"Martha, what’s going on here?" the manager said, as he walked towards her. "What's all this commotion?"
"You've really got a nutcase on your hands. She's threatening me," I said.
"You asshole!" she shouted. "Get out! Get the hell out of here!"
"Calm down!" screamed the manager. "This is a place of business!"
"I don't have to take this shit!" She took off her nametag, threw it on the ground, and walked to the back room.
"That's no way to treat a nametag," I mumbled to myself.
"You quiet down," the manager told me. "What happened here?"
"That woman’s got a lot of problems."
"Never mind! If you want to leave here with that alcohol, you better tell me what happened.”
"Shouldn't you be worried that I'm upset? Isn't the customer always right?"
"You just get out of here. I could smell the liquor on you the second you walked in. This is a nice place, and we don't need your kind around here."
"My kind? It's a liquor store, who do you expect to walk in here, Barney Rubble and a couple of girl guides?"
"I suggest you leave quickly before I phone the police."
I walked out and saw the young looking blond standing by my car having a cigarette.
"What was all that yelling in there?" she asked.
"You heard that?"
"I heard a woman screaming."
"Someone tried to rob the place so I took him down and saved the day."
"Oh really?"
"If I said yes, would you believe me?"
"I don't believe anything a man says."
"Well, you should stop trusting women too."
"Why's that?"
"How do you think we learned to lie so well?"
She laughed. "You're funny. Did you get anything for me?"
"I got a bottle of white wine for you and your friend. Is she going to be here soon?"
"She should be a few minutes. Where do you live?"
"Let me give you my address." I reached into my car and got a piece of paper and a pen and wrote down my address. "It's not too far from here."
"This is right by my house!"
"Oh, good, then you can walk home later."
"I guess so."
"Well, listen, I have to pick up that pizza," I said, as I opened the bottle of Jameson. "I'll see you girls soon."
"Don't kill yourself on the way there."
I got into the front seat, turned the car on, and took a big drink. "Don't worry darling, I won't be killing myself just yet." I pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to the pizza parlor.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

A Forceful Thought

I couldn't imagine a day without the weight
on my shoulders.
The weight was there; it was always there.
It was there for a reason and had a purpose I have yet
to figure out.
I don't want it there but I cant
get rid of it.

It grows and grows and shrinks like everything
It lives and dies and changes and transforms.
It becomes a burden, but a burden
you dont mind.
I say goodnight then lay awake and greet it with a smile.
It's a part of me, in my soul,
or I think it is, and believe myself,
and never
let it go.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

2 Days, 7 Trips, and 12 Minutes in Heaven


Waking up with a hangover was never a problem for me. After a couple times, like anything else, you get used to it. The sunlight woke me up as it shined like the flames of hell on my face at around eight in the morning. I sat up on the couch and saw that Jack had left his pack of cigarettes, so naturally I took one out and lit it. I looked around for the bottle of whiskey, but gave up when I found a can of beer that was half full. I was still a bit shaky from the night before and was considering staying at home all day. The chances of finding the brunette were slim to none, but then again, I am a gambler. I finished my cigarette and what was left in the beer can, and got up to get ready to start the search. It was going to be a long day, and I was going to need a lot of liquor.

After getting ready I decided to skip breakfast and head out to the liquor store first. I was either nervous, or just too hung over to stomach food. I got in my car, shuffled my feet through a few empty bottles to get to pedals, put the key in the ignition and sat back. I felt nauseous so I got out of the car and lit a cigarette. The first puff hit the back of my throat awkwardly, which forced me to vomit behind the back tire. I took a few more puffs after, got in the car, and headed to the liquor store. When I pulled into the parking lot I drove cautiously, just in case any more crazy women decided to yell at me. I could handle them after a few drinks, but being hung over early in the morning, I just might snap.
“Good morning,” said the same elderly cashier from the night before.
“What did you do, sleep here?”
“I work here fulltime.”
“Your parents must be real proud of you,” I said, as I walked quickly towards the whiskey aisle. I grabbed a bottle of Jameson and looked over and saw the kid that helped me carry my beers. “The beers were fine, none of them exploded,” I said.
“Oh, ok.”
“I told my friend you shook them up, but he didn’t believe me.”
“I didn’t shake them, sir.”
“I know you didn’t. I just told him you did.”
“Oh, ok.”
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
“Maybe you should have a drink, that way you won’t be such a stiff. Grab one of these cases and head to the backroom.”
“I’m supposed to put all the cases on display for the customers.”
“What are you, retarded?”
“You mean no, sir?” I said, before taking the bottle of whiskey to the cashier. “That kid you guys got working back there is full of problems.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s an incompetent. He doesn’t know his shit from his piss. He’ll never make it.”
“Like I told you yesterday, sir, he’s new.”
“You should get a young broad to work back there. I mean, what do you do all day? You just stand up here and look around, if you can even see. At least with a nice little blond or something, bending over every few minutes to lift the beer up, you’d have something to stare at.”
“Is that all, sir?”
“Yeah, whatever, see you later gramps. Make sure this place has a retirement fund, or you’ll be fucked.”
I walked out and over to my car and put the bottle of whiskey on the passenger seat. As I was about to get in, I saw a woman out of the corner of my eye. I looked closer and saw it was the same woman who screamed at me the night before. What is this, Groundhog Day? I got in and honked before pulling out. She looked over and immediately recognized me.
“It’s you! You evil man! Drinking again, of course!”
“Get in baby, lets go for a ride!”
“I’m phoning the police!”
“Good, maybe they can help you find your medication, you crazy bitch!” I yelled, as I sped out of the parking lot.

I drove to a lake that wasn’t far from the liquor store to have some whiskey and get back to normal. There was a bench that I could sit on and watch the ducks swim around, clueless to the cruelty that us humans face in our day to day lives. There were people running around the lake who were probably wondering why I was sitting there at nine in the morning with a bottle of Jameson. It didn’t bother me though, because at the same time I was wondering why there were people running around the lake at nine in the morning. After half the bottle and a few cigarettes I was feeling good again. I decided it was time to go to the grocery store-the big one-and see if the brunette was there. I got up off the bench and started walking towards my car. On the way over, I managed to step out in front of a woman running which caused her to trip over my foot.
“Watch it asshole!” the woman yelled from the ground. “Didn’t you see me coming? What are you, blind?”
“Whoa, calm down,” I said. I bent down to help her up. For a second, I was hoping it was the brunette from the liquor store, but after re-thinking it, I was still too sober to deal with that. “Are you OK?” I asked.
She looked up at my face and just my luck, it was the brunette. “Oh, it’s you again,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be at a liquor store, buying, what was it again, some rum? No, wait, it was whiskey; you asshole.”
I smiled and held up the bottle of Jameson. “Want some breakfast?” I asked.
“Are you kidding me? Why are you drinking this early? Didn’t you get enough yesterday?”
“I’m on holidays. I just came down here to feed the ducks and I thought a couple drinks would be nice to have.”
“It’s not even ten o’ clock. Who the hell drinks this early?”
“You’ve never heard of drinking alcohol to cure a hangover?”
“Oh, I guess. So, you’re drinking off a hangover, then you’re going to be drunk again and wakeup tomorrow and need to drink off another hangover.”
“Story of my life.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“I’m kidding. I don’t do this often. Like I said, I’m on holidays.”
“Well then why don’t you go somewhere? Go camping, go to the beach, do something instead of drinking alone at a park.”
“I’m not alone,” I said, winking at her.
“You were a real asshole yesterday, you know that?”
“I had a few too many drinks.”
“Just a few?”
“Honestly, I lost count. You know, you weren’t a real pleasure to be around yesterday either.”
“How so? I was polite up until you said you cherish alcohol over women.”
“There’s a fine line between alcohol and women.”
“What do you mean?”
“They can both either make you feel really good, or make you feel like a piece of shit.”
“That’s an odd way of looking at it.”
“Well, you see, I’ll be drinking and feel great, then I’ll wakeup the next day and feel like shit. With women, we’ll fuck and I’ll feel great, then I’ll wakeup the next day and feel like a piece of shit for wanting to get the hell out of there. I can’t win.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Of course it is. I should get to win sometimes. I’m glad you agree.”
“No, your whole view on women is horrible. Did you ever think that maybe we want you to leave in the morning?”
“Come on now, don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m serious. There’s been tons of times where a guy’s stayed around in my apartment the next day; eating all my food, watching TV, making a mess everywhere. I just wanted to tell him to get the hell out. I got what I needed, so it’s time to piss off.”
“You’re a lot different than I thought.”
“In what way?”
“You’re just a cruel, evil bitch.”
“Excuse me!?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I love it. You’re the goods babe.”
She laughed. “You like the bad girls, huh?”
“Don’t get me excited now, darling. OK, I’m kidding, talk dirty to me.”
“You’re trouble, I can tell already.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“But, I should get going,” she said.
“Hold on a second. Are you still going to that barbeque tonight? I was thinking, since we seem to be getting along a lot better than yesterday, maybe we could get together tonight?”
“Get together with you? Is that some kind of sick joke?”
“I’m kidding! Look at your face, you look like someone just told you there’s no more alcohol in the world.”
“Trust me, if someone told me that, I’d be diving off the nearest bridge.”
“You definitely would,” she said, laughing. “I do have to go to the barbeque though, unfortunately.”
“There’s no way out of it?”
“Well, there could be. I’m only going because I promised a girlfriend I’d go with her.”
“How bout’ you ladies come over to my place, and I’ll call a friend. We can have our own barbeque.”
“That could work.”
“Of course it could. Here, take my address, and come by around eight.” I took a pencil out of my pocket and ripped the Jameson label off to write the address on.
“I know this area,” she said, while reading the address. “My friend lives right around there.”
“Good, then both of you can have some drinks and not worry about driving home later; you can just walk to her house.”
“Remember, I don’t drink that often, so I probably won’t be having too much.”
“I don’t drink that often either,” I said, before taking a sip of whiskey.
“Of course you don’t, and anyone who says otherwise, must be out of their mind,” she said sarcastically.
We both laughed and said our goodbyes and she continued to run as I walked over to my car and headed home.

The minute I got home I made myself a drink; Jameson and ginger ale. After a couple sips I lit a cigarette and picked up the phone to give Jack the good news.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Jack, I got good news.”
“I’m getting laid tonight?”
“We’re both getting laid tonight; at my house.”
“I told you, man, I’m not gay. I’m not fucking you.”
“You wish you could fuck me.”
He laughed. “Did you find the brunette or something, man?”
“Yeah, I was at the lake having a few drinks and I saw her running.”
“Why was she running?”
“I’m not sure. There was a bunch of people running around the lake.”
“Why were they running around the lake?”
“Apparently they enjoy it in the morning.”
“That’s not right.”
“I know, but, you should have seen her tits bounce as she ran.”
“I can imagine, man. So are you seeing her tonight? Are we going to double team her?”
“She’s coming over at eight, and she’s bringing a friend.”
“It’s not going to be another demented beast like that last girl you brought out for me, is it?”
“I sure hope so; that was hilarious.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“She’ll be fine. Don’t worry, with the way this broad looks, I guarantee her friend will be just as good.”
“And if she isn’t?”
“Then you can go home and jerk off.”
“Whatever, man. Are we going to the bar soon to get started? You know I won’t go into the lions den if I’m sober.”
“I’m already ahead of you. Let’s just go to the liquor store and head back to my place.”
“That’s fine by me, man. You’re paying, right?”
“I’m going to pay for your liquor and get you pussy? Why the fuck would I do that?”
“How about this, I’ll buy the liquor and if the broad is up to my standards, we’re even. But, if she looks like something you’d want to hunt, you’re paying me back; for my booze too.”
“Sounds good.”
“OK, pick me up on the way back from the liquor store then.”
“So I’m a cab now too? I’m a bartender, a pimp, and a fucking cab driver for you? Use those gangly legs and walk your ass to my house.”
“Whatever, man. I’ll leave in half an hour, if you’re not back by the time I get to your house, I’m going in through the window again.”
“Suit yourself.” I hung up and finished my drink. Here I go; trip number five.

I decided to go to a different liquor store. It was a bit further than the one I usually went to, but I thought it was best to avoid crazy women and old filthy men still working as cashiers. As I walked up to the front door there was a man with a dog begging for change.
“Spare any change, sir?”
“For some liquor?” I asked.
“No, sir, not for liquor, I need food.”
“Ah, well, I can’t help you there. If you said it was for booze, I would’ve thrown you twenty bucks. But, oh well.” I walked inside as the man stared at me. “You’ve got to get rid of these fucking rats,” I said to a clerk by the front door. “Look at him; just take a broom and go sweep him away. Beat him with the handle if you have to.”
“As long as he’s a few meters away from the door, he’s allowed to stay there.”
“What a joke.”
“It is what it is.”
I walked past the whiskey aisle this time and picked up a case of Kokanee. On the way to the cashier I saw a stack of boxed wine, so naturally I picked one up.
“Just the beer and the wine, sir?” said the cashier, a decent looking blond.
“That depends, what else are you offering?”
“Um, we have some chocolates there behind you.”
“That’s not what I meant, hunny.”
“I’m sorry I don’t quite follow.”
“Cute, real cute. Yes, just the wine and the beer for now.” I gave her some money. “I’ll be back for you later.”
Walking towards the front door I could see the man with the dog waiting for me so I turned around.
“Is there another exit?” I asked the cashier.
“Yes, just on the other side of the wine racks over there,” she pointed.
I quickly walked through the doors and noticed the man and his dog coming towards me. I picked up the pace and made it to my car and threw the alcohol in the back seat.
“Get the fuck away from me!” I yelled, as the man and his dog were closing in on my car.
“You have some change, I know you do! I don’t need food, I never need food. Please, I need liquor! I need the twenty dollars for liquor!”
“You had your chance you rat bastard!” I started the car and reversed as fast as possible. I sped out of the parking lot and drove over what I thought was a large speed bump.”
“You hit my dog! You mother fucker! You killed my dog you murderer!” he screamed.
I could see a couple people gathering around the dog as the man ran after me, yelling at the top of his lungs. I lit a cigarette, turned the radio on full blast, ignored the situation and kept driving. It was going to be a good night.

When I got home I saw Jack sitting on the front steps having a cigarette. He was wearing a nice button up shirt, dress pants, and leather shoes.
“What’s with the fancy clothes?” I asked, as I stepped out of the car.
“You locked the window on purpose, didn’t you?”
“I would never do that.”
“You’re such an asshole sometimes, man.”
“I forgot to open it. I’m drunk, give me a break.”
“You’re always drunk, man.”
“If God didn’t want me to drink, he would get rid of alcohol.”
“Well, God wants me to drink too, so let’s get the fuck inside.”
We walked into the living room and I handed Jack a beer and poured the rest of the Jameson into a glass for myself.
“So, what’s with the clothes? You think you’re going to get lucky tonight?”
“I wanted to look nice. If they’re as hot as you say they are, you better put on some nice clothes as well man.”
“Fuck them. They can take me as I am.”
“Are you at least going to shower?”
“It crossed my mind.”
“Do you want to get laid tonight or not?”
“Well, I did. But after all this whiskey, I’d be satisfied just sitting here, finishing all the beer and wine.”
“We’ll be finishing everything anyways.”
“You make a good point, Jack. Hopefully I’ll be able to get my dick up later.”
“That depends, man.”
“On what?”
“How many liquor store runs we make before the women get here.”
“Another good point.”
“I’m full of good information when I’m sober.”
“We all are. Don’t think you’re special or anything.”

After a few hours of drinking and mindless conversation we finished all the beer and were halfway through the box of wine. I was feeling good but Jack looked like he was getting a bit drowsy.
“You alright?” I asked.
“Yeah, man. This wine is just putting me to sleep.”
“We need some whiskey. That should wake us up.”
“You’re tired too?”
“That should wake you up, I mean. I just want some whiskey.”
“You get the whiskey while I lay down here. I need at least thirty minutes, man.”
“I’ll drive to get it, but, I think you’re forgetting the deal.”
He pulled out his wallet and gave me more than enough money for a bottle of Jameson.
“Get a couple packs too,” he said.
“What brand?”
“The cheapest they got, man.”
“Atta boy.”
As I was driving to the liquor store I felt the car swerving a bit. It was the sixth trip in two days and I really started feeling the effects. I had to go quite a distance this time since I wasn’t able to go to the two liquor stores closest to my house. Crazy women, old men, and now a dead dog; it was a hell of a weekend. I made it safely to a cold beer and wine store just outside of town, got in, grabbed a bottle of Jameson and a few packs of cigarettes, and got out within a few minutes. The area was deserted, which was probably a good thing. I had a few smokes on the drive back and came close to hitting a couple parked cars, but eventually made it back to my house in one piece.
“Wake up!” I yelled, as I walked through the front door. “Jack, get your ass up, the whiskey is here.”
He didn’t move. I saw a pile of vomit beside the couch he was laying on.
“You sick bastard!” I screamed, before putting my fist into his stomach.
“Ah, fuck! What the fuck are you doing man? You’ll make me puke again!”
“If I see anymore come out you’re eating it you son of a bitch!”
“Chill out, man! I’ll clean it up.” He stood up and staggered into the kitchen to get some paper towel.
“We’ve barely had anything today,” I said. “Get it together.”
“Not everyone’s a drinking machine like you, man,” he said from the kitchen. “Where’s the paper towel?”
“Behind the sink. Get me a glass while you’re in there. Look at this shit, you filthy bastard.”
He walked back into the living room with a glass and some paper towel. “It happened while I was sleeping, man. One minute I was fine, caught in a deep sleep, the next I was bent over the edge of the couch.”
“And you didn’t think to clean it then? We got women coming here; what do you think they’d say if they walked in to a pile of puke and piss in the living room?”
“There’s no piss, but I see what you’re saying.”
“ Just clean it up.”
“I’m cleaning it man, chill out. It’ll be like it never happened. They won’t even be here for another few hours anyways.”
I sat down and poured a glass of Jameson and ginger ale.
“You’re lucky I got some whiskey,” I said. “I don’t think beer would have done it. That’s not something you want to walk into when a couple broads are coming over.”
“I know, man. Here, look, it’s clean,” he said as he finished wiping the floor.
“It still smells like a pig’s asshole. Get some of that spray from the bathroom and spray it around.”
After spraying the whole upstairs with a lemon scent he sat down and poured himself a drink.
“That’s the most work I’ve done all week,” he said.
“You lazy fuck.”
“You’re one to talk. You don’t even work, man.”
“I have a fulltime job.”
“Yeah, but you don’t do anything there.”
“Why should I work if I don’t have to?”
“I’m not saying you should work, I’m just saying we’re both lazy pieces of shit.”
“So, did you get the smokes?” he asked.
I pulled three packs out of the bag and threw them on the table. He sat up and opened one of the packs and tossed a cigarette at me.
“Now we can relax,” he said.
We finished our drinks and smoked in silence for a bit. It was nice to be able to sit with someone and drink without having to talk. Only a few people that I know are able to do it comfortably, the rest just bore me with constant conversation. Most of the time I’m not even paying attention.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

2 Days, 7 Trips, and 12 Minutes in Heaven


It was only a week ago that I found myself driving to the liquor store for the fourth time in the same day. It was the beginning of my two day weekend and when I woke up I had a plan to drink all day; and I mean drink. So there I was, cutting through traffic like a maniac, trying to make it to the liquor store as fast as possible. I wasn’t on a schedule or anything; I just had no patience when it came to alcohol. My tires screeched as I drove into the parking lot and I hit the curb as I tried to park.
“You better watch that speed, you could have killed somebody,” said a woman as I stepped out of my car.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I said.
“What the hell does that mean?” she asked.
“Watch the news later. Casualties everywhere; kids, dogs, families; it’s just a bloody massacre,” I muttered as I walked into the liquor store.
“That man is a murderer!” I heard her scream through the windows. “He’s drunk! He’s driving drunk! He told me he hit a few people already!”
“Is she yelling about you?” asked one of the store clerks.
“You know, I’m not really sure. Can’t be though, I haven’t had a drink all day.”
“You sure smell like you have. Smells like you just finished a drink on the way over here.”
“Ah yes, I had a beer with dinner. There’s no harm in one beer. She must be out of her mind.”
“Well, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
“And I’ll be keeping my eyes on her,” I said, as I walked over to a voluptuous brunette in the rum aisle.
“Rum’s a damned fine drink,” I told her.
“It sure is,” she said. “Do you work here?”
“Here? God no; I wouldn’t last a week in this place. Surrounded by booze all the time, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off it.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” she said as she laughed.
“I’m surprised I’m even able to stand, this is my fourth trip.”
“Fourth? You’re insane.”
“What can I say, I’m the goods baby.”
“Have you been buying a lot each trip?”
“Not really,” I said, lying through my teeth. “Some friends came over earlier and drank most of it.”
“Oh, I see.”
“So, yeah, I was thinking, since were both in love with rum-“
“Oh, I’m not in love with rum,” she interrupted me. “I barely drink.”
“You barely drink? I saw the way you were looking at these bottles. I know that look; I give them the same look.”
“No, really, I don’t drink often. I’m just here to pickup a bottle for a barbeque tomorrow night.”
“Come on; seriously?”
“I’m serious.”
“Oh well, I guess that’s good. Now I can get whiskey,” I said, as I headed towards the whiskey aisle.
“I thought you were in love with rum?”
“Only if you were, doll. I can’t stand that shit. I’m a whiskey man. And yes, I’ve been buying a lot each trip. And no, I didn’t share with any friends. And yes, you’re damn right I cherish alcohol more than woman.”
“Asshole!” she shouted, as she picked up a bottle of rum and quickly took it to the cashier.
“Still got it,” I said.
I passed by the vodka and tequila and eventually came across the whiskey. I grabbed a bottle of Jameson and paced around the beer section. Did I really need beer?
“Hey, buddy, can you bring a case of Kokanee up front for me, my hands are tied,” I said to a young guy. I wasn’t even sure if he worked there.
“Sure thing,” he said.
“And don’t shake them. If one of those explodes when I open it, I’ll be back, and I’ll be looking for you.”
I walked over to the cashier as the young man carried the beer nervously. I gave him a couple bucks for a tip and told him I was joking, but I would probably be back; not for him, for more alcohol.
“Nice kid,” I said to the cashier, an elderly man.
“He’s new. A little slow, but he’ll learn.”
“Did you see the brunette that walked-“
“Sir, let me stop you there for a second. I’m not sure I can let you walk out of here with all of this.”
“What do you mean? Oh, wait, I get it, good idea. Let the kid carry it out for me, that’s damned good thinking.”
“No, sir, you don’t seem to be balancing on your feet too well, and, frankly, you smell like you’ve bathed in beer.”
“Bathe in beer, man, you’re just full of good ideas today! Twenty-four might not fill the tub; maybe I should get another 24. What do you think?”
“I think you should just stick with the bottle of Jameson, or I’ll have to get the manager involved.”
“Is the manager a female?” I asked, with a grin on my face.
The cashier picked up the intercom.
“Ok, ok! Just give me the Jameson. A real tight ass, aren’t you?”
“I’m just doing my job, sir.”
I handed him the money for the whiskey and walked out the front door. The crazy woman was gone, thank god. I got in my car, started it up, and drove over the curb and out of the parking lot without hesitation. If someone got in the way, it was their own fault. I lit a cigarette and turned up the radio. I always had the music on as loud as possible, that way if a cop put on his sirens, you could pretend you didn’t hear them.

After I got inside the first thing I did was make myself a drink; Jameson and ginger ale. There were cans and bottles spread all over the tables and floor, but I didn’t care. I actually enjoyed it. It reminded me of my incredible drinking ability. I stumbled through the mess and sat down on the couch to use the phone.
“Come on, Jack, pickup,” I said, as the phone rang.
“Yeah, who is it?” he answered.
“Jack, what the fuck are you doing? Get your ass over here!”
“I’m sleeping, man, I have to work tomorrow. Are you drunk right now?”
“Of course I’m drunk! I have two days off, so wake up! I got a bottle of Jameson for us.”
“You’ve been drinking like a fish lately, haven’t you?”
“Do fish drink water?”
“I’m talking about alcohol, man.”
“Fish don’t drink alcohol.”
“Forget about the fish, man.”
“Alright, anyways, I got everything but a person to bullshit with. Oh, and I met a brunette at the liquor store.”
“You did? How’d that go?”
“We talked for a bit, I could tell she was eyeing the goods, but then she said she didn’t drink.”
“What a bitch.”
“I know; who doesn’t drink now a days?”
“No kidding. She must live a real sad life, man”
“See, Jack, you understand everything.”
“What’s not to understand? You can’t hang out with people that want to stay sober; that’s just depressing man.”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to come and have some whiskey then, or you could be the sober, depressing guy who has to sleep before work. Either way, you’re a bitch.”
“Fuck you,” he said, as he laughed. “I’ll come by in a bit. Save me something to drink. And you better have cigarettes, I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah, go to hell.” I hung up and lit a cigarette.

By the time he showed up I had finished half the bottle of whiskey. I had one smoke left, I was about to pass out, and I was too drunk to stand up and answer the door.
“Nick! Open the door!” he shouted. “Get your ass up, I didn’t come here for nothing!”
I rolled off the couch and onto a pile of empty beer cans. “Son of a bitch,” I mumbled. I reached up on the table and grabbed the last cigarette and a lighter, laid back on the empty cans, stared at the roof, and lit it without even acknowledging Jack.
“You bastard!” he continued. “I’m climbing through the window, fuck it!”
I looked over and saw him trying to climb through an open window. He managed to get in safely, and walked over and stood above me.
“Welcome to the party,” I said.
“You’re a real asshole, man.”
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you that this is the last smoke.”
“I bought my own on the way over here. I knew better than to depend on you for anything.”
“I saved you some whiskey.”
“You didn’t save it. Look at you, you can’t even stand up.”
“Just give me a minute; it’s been a long day.”
“A long day of drinking,” he said, as he sat down on the couch and pulled out his cigarettes. “You drank half the bottle already? We just got off the phone not even twenty five minutes ago, man.”
“It came that way. Bloody thieves at the liquor store. Selling me only half a bottle; I should go kick that kid’s ass.”
“What kid?”
“The kid that shook up my beer cans.”
“We’re talking about a bottle of whiskey, man. I don’t see any beer left anyways; just empty cans.”
“He did it on purpose.”
“What are you going on about? What kid, what cans?
“The brunette was probably his girlfriend. He was all fired up with jealousy, so he shook my fucking cans!”
Jack ignored me and poured himself a glass.
“We should get outside, get some fresh air,” he said.
“Fill my glass up, then we’ll talk.”
“Fill your own glass, that is, if you’re able to.”
I grabbed onto the edge of the couch and lifted myself to my knees. I was halfway there, but I needed a break. Jack had his pack of smokes on the table in front of him, so I took one out and lit it.
“Get up, man. Smoke that outside or you’ll just lay back down when you finish it.”
“You know me too well, Jack.” I stood up on my feet and leaned against the wall. The front door looked too far so I sat down on the couch. “Just sit down, I’m fine,” I told him.
“When did you start drinking?” he asked.
“About 10 years ago.”
“I mean today, man,” he said, laughing.
“I woke up, came into the kitchen, opened a bottle of something, red wine I think, poured it and that was that.”
“And here we are; day one.”
“Two more to go.”
“Do you think you’ll see that brunette again, man?”
“I hope so. She was fine, real fine.”
“All you have to do is get her to have one drink; that way, it won’t be so fucking depressing.”
“It’s not like she never has a drink, man. Maybe she just didn’t want to drink tonight. She was going to a barbeque tomorrow. Not everyone drinks everyday.”
“We do.”
“We’re special. We can handle it.”
“We can?”
“I don’t know, man. I think so.”
“Well, how do I find her?”
“Go to the grocery store tomorrow; the big one. Maybe she’ll be buying some food for the barbeque.”
“I’ll see if she’s at the liquor store in the morning.”
“She won’t be at a liquor store, especially not in the morning, man. She was just there today. Try the grocery store.”
“What are the chances?”
“Not good. But what else are you going to do, man?”
“I guess you’re right,” I said, as I leaned further into the couch pillows.
“You look tired, man. I’m going to take off so you can sleep. You should get up and hang around the grocery store in the morning. By the sounds of it, this broad probably wakes up early to run her errands.”
“What the hell am I getting myself into?”
“A pussy, man. A great, big, juicy pussy.”
“Well, you never know.”
“Fuck off.”
“Alright, man, call me tomorrow, let me know if you see her,” he said, before shutting the front door.
I stared at the wall for a minute, trying to focus before I slept. There’s nothing to worry about, I thought, I’m the goods, I’m the goods…

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Tougher Than Superman

"I'm going to open a restaurant,” I said.
"Open a restaurant?"
"Yes. Not a fancy one. I just want somewhere I can eat for free."
"You really need to cut back on the booze. You're just talking crazy now."
"I'm serious. I'm going to go out and get a job today so I can start saving."
"It's almost 5 o'clock and you haven’t even gotten dressed. Where do you expect to apply at this time of day?"
"Well, I'll look tomorrow then."
“Your brother is coming tomorrow. You can't cancel on him. He already bought his train ticket."
"God damn it! I'll go sometime this week.” I grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down on the couch. “Stop hassling me, will you?"
"I'm not hassling you! I'm just tired of these moods you always get in."
"What moods?"
"You start talking about all these things you want to do. They're always different ways of making money, or different ways of getting stuff for free. In the end, you never do shit!"
"Bah! To hell with you! You'll see, by next week I'll have a job. I'll start saving my money instead of buying you all your useless shit, then, when I have enough to open a restaurant, I'll make sure you're never allowed to eat there!"
"Good! I won't want to eat at your shitty restaurant anyways!" She yelled as she walked out the front door.
I got up off the couch and ran to an open window.
"You better come back here in an hour with a case of beer! You have one hour Sandy, you hear me?! For each minute you're late, I'm throwing one piece of your clothing onto the fuckin street!" I slammed the window shut and lit a cigarette.
What did she know about making money? She only knew how to spend money, like all women. I know I'll be great, and my restaurant will be great. Everyone that comes in will see how great I am, and how great my restaurant is, and that’s all that matters.

It had been almost an hour and I was out of beer. I was getting anxious so I started chain smoking. If I run out of smokes before she gets back, all hell will break loose. Suddenly, the front door opened. It was Sandy with a case of beer.
“Did you get any cigarettes?” I asked.
“No, you only demanded beer, like an asshole. Does it feel good to yell at me through the window, treating me like a servant in front of all of our neighbors?”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“I know, because you’re a heartless bastard.”
“I have a heart; it’s just cold and black.”
“You make me sick.” She put the beer on the floor beside me. “You better save some for your brother tomorrow.”
“Fuck him, he should be supplying me with beer.”
“You invited him over. You’re the host, so you should supply the drinks.”
“I hate the system.”
“I know, I know. You hate the system, you hate working, you hate life, you hate me, and now you hate your own brother.”
“But I do love myself.”
“Can you open a beer already? Hopefully it puts you in a better mood, or shuts you up.”
“There you go with that mood talk again. You need to relax, hunny.”
“I am relaxed. It’s just hotter than hell outside and I’m tired and hungry. Are we still going out for dinner later like you promised? Or is it just going to be another night sitting on the couch, drinking, listening to you tell me why you’re greater than Superman?”
“Superman isn’t shit! If there were no phone booths, where would he change? Take away the phone booths, and you take away Superman!”
“Here we go again. I’m going to have a nap, try to get up and get ready so we can actually go out tonight.”
“Sure thing, doll. Once I get some of these beers in me, we’ll go out somewhere nice to eat.”
“Of course, somewhere nice, it’s always somewhere nice when I’m paying.”
“Hey! Do you want to take a nap, or do you want me to put you to sleep?”
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy, real tough….” She muttered as she walked into the bedroom.
I am tough, I thought; tougher than Superman, that’s for sure.

About 3 hours later I was 9 beers deep and in desperate need of a cigarette. I forgot all about going out for dinner with Sandy and instead focused on finishing the case of beer and somehow getting some smokes. I walked into the kitchen and saw her purse on the table. I opened it and started looking for some money. I found a $20 hidden nicely in a zip up side pocket. Smart girl, I thought, but not smart enough. I quickly grabbed my shoes from the closet and just as I was opening the front door to go to the store, Sandy walked out of the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“Just for a walk, darling. I need to sober up before we go to dinner.”
“Sober up? You never want to sober up. Where are you going?” She turned and saw her purse open on the kitchen counter. “What the fuck is this?! You’re stealing from me again?!”
“No, no, it’s not what it looks like.” Idiot, I thought, how could I leave the purse open like that. “I got a piece of gum in case I run into anyone I know. I don’t want them to think I’m some kind of a drunk.”
“Everybody you know already thinks you’re a drunk! You’re stealing from me again! I knew I shouldn’t have left my purse on the counter! Give me back my money!”
“Babe, calm down. I was going to split a pack of smokes with you. I’m doing you a favor by going to get them myself.”
“I quit smoking 3 months ago!”
“You know, quitters can’t be winners.”
“I’m not in the mood for your jokes! Give me back my money if you ever want to see me carry a case of beer in here for you ever again!”
I handed her the $20. “Does this mean I don’t get any smokes?”
“Are you kidding me? You’re lucky I’m not packing my bags right now. What then? What if I was packing my bags? What would you do without me?”
“I’d probably find someone less likely to catch me stealing from their purse.”
“You are unbelievable. Is everything a joke to you?”
“No, not everything; well, yeah, actually, everything pretty much is a joke.”
“You really need to grow up. And for the love of god, stop stealing from me. And go get ready! I don’t know anyone that isn’t even dressed by this time!”
“It’s only 8pm, the day’s just begun. We’ll go out, have a nice meal, take a stroll to the liquor store, buy some fine wine and a couple packs of-“
“No! I told you, you aren’t getting any cigarettes tonight!”
“Well, that’s a shame, that’s a god damned shame! If I end up killing somebody later, I’m blaming you!” I yelled as I walked quickly into the bathroom.
“Yeah, yeah, here we go with the drama. Just hurry up tough guy.”
I stormed back out of the bathroom. “What was that? What did you say? I’m telling you right now, if I see anyone, anyone at all that resembles Superman, I’ll fuckin kill him!”
“Enough! Go have a shower already!”
I slammed the bathroom door shut. “I won’t forget about this! We’ll talk about this later! Mark my words!” I yelled through the walls.

On the drive to the restaurant I started to feel light headed. The heat was unbearable and the car had no air conditioning.
“I really need a drink, I feel dizzy,” I said.
“You drank enough today, don’t you think?”
“No, you can never have enough.”
“Actually, you can. A lot of people die from alcohol poisoning. What you need is some water. And you know, we’re past the stage where you need to impress me. We live together, so cut the shit.”
“Impress you? I never needed to impress you. I just think if you die from alcohol poisoning, you’re a pussy bitch.”
“And here he is; the tough guy. The big tough guy; dizzy, with no job, no cigarettes, and no alcohol.”
“Just hurry up, would you? Can’t this piece of shit car go any faster? I don’t know anyone that would get a car without air conditioning. I’m dying over here.”
“It’s a car, OK. At least I have a car. Do you have to be so nasty all the time?”
“It’s who I am. It’s too late to change now. I’m a nasty, evil, bad mother fucker; a rebel without a cause. I’m a tough son of a bitch, and don’t you ever forget that!”
“How could I, when you remind me every 10 minutes?”
As we pulled into the parking lot I started to feel a lot better; I knew the alcohol was close. We parked in a spot right beside the front door.
“There, we’re here, happy?”
“Once I get a drink, I’ll be fine as wine baby.” I stepped out of the car and felt a rush of nausea come over me. I leaned over and vomited behind the back tire.
“Oh, for fuck sakes,” Sandy said. “Was that necessary?”
“Yes, now I feel like a million peso’s. Let’s go.”
When we got inside the hostess told us we’d have to wait 20 minutes for a table; just my luck.
“This is horseshit!” I said. “Can we at least wait at the bar?”
“I’m sorry sir, the bar is full. We have some chairs behind you that you can sit on while you wait.”
“Do I look tired or something? Do I look like an old man? I don’t need a fucking chair, I need a drink.”
“Nick! Shut up and sit down!” demanded Sandy.
“I’m not waiting here! Let’s go, I saw a place next door that probably serves drinks. I doubt they’ll treat us like a couple of animals!”
“Sir, can you please calm down? We can serve you a drink here if you’d like.”
“There you go! Now, say thank you!” Sandy said.
“Fuck that; get me a double rum and coke. Actually, get me a bottle of Heineken. No wait, get me both.”
“You’re such an asshole, Nick.”
“I’m too thirsty for politeness!”
“It’s OK, mam. And would you like anything for yourself?”
“No, thank you.”
“See, you’re polite enough for the both of us,” I said. “Can we smoke in here?”
“No, I’m sorry sir, smoking is not permitted in doors. It hasn’t been for many years now.”
“You knew that anyways!” Sandy shouted. “You don’t even have any smokes. Stop causing problems; you’re acting like a child!”
I sat down and kept quiet till the drinks came. I didn’t want to piss Sandy off too much, she was paying after all. I also knew I could get her to stop at the liquor store on the way home if I didn’t fuck anything else up.
“A rum and coke for you, and a Heineken for the lady,” the waiter said, as he handed us the drinks.
“No pal, they’re both for me.”
“I apologize.” He grabbed the Heineken and put it beside the rum and coke. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Wait a second, buddy,” I said.
“Nick, don’t start. I’ve dealt with enough shit tonight.”
“Quiet for a minute, I just want to ask him a question.”
“Did you need something, sir?”
“Where do you get off handing me a little rum and coke, and handing my woman a beer? Do I not look manly enough to drink a beer? Do I look like someone who doesn’t drink beer? Does she look like a man, a big manly woman that just drinks beer all day? What the fuck is your-“
“Enough!” screamed Sandy. “Just shut the hell up and have a drink!”
The waiter walked off back into the kitchen.
“What did you do that for? The guy was begging me to kick his ass!”
“You don’t have to prove you’re tough anymore! I’ve seen you fight enough people. You want to fight every guy you see!.”
“And I’ll beat them all! Don’t think that I can’t; don’t think for one second that I can’t!” I finished my beer and got up to go to the washroom. “Make sure none of these deadbeats take my rum and coke, you hear me?”
“Just go, tough guy.”
I walked slowly in a drunken state. I passed by a few waitresses, slurring some inappropriate comments about their bodies, and finally made it to the washroom. When I walked in it smelt clean, too clean, like someone had just finished scrubbing every inch with a bar of soap. I locked the door and walked right to the middle of the room.
“These son of a bitches think they can do whatever they want, to whoever they want. I’ll show them they can’t fuck with me!”
I unzipped my pants and started pissing all over the floor. I stumbled over to the sinks and soaked them with piss. I got the stall doors, the urinals, the heaters, the paper towel dispenser; I covered the whole bathroom. It was an amazing site to see. I zipped my pants up and stood back for a minute, staring, like I was looking at the most beautiful piece of art.
“Not so clean now, are ya?
I came out of the bathroom with a big grin on my face and hurried back to Sandy-and my drink-but she wasn’t there.
“Excuse me,” I said to the hostess, “where did my rum and coke go?”
“Your wife took it with her to your table. Follow me please.”
“My wife? I’d rather be dead.”
I followed her to a small table in the back where Sandy was sitting with my drink.
“Your waitress will be with you in a few minutes.”
“It better not be the same son of a bitch that brought me these drinks, because I’ll drop him like a sack of bricks!”
“Thank you very much,” Sandy said to the hostess, before she could react to my belligerence.
“Your welcome. Can I get you guys a drink while you look over the menus?”
“Nothing for me,” said Sandy.
“Another Heineken, sir?”
“Your goddamn right another Heineken. Another rum and coke too, I’m worried someone tampered with this one.”
“Tampered with it?” said Sandy.
“I’m a very cautious person, with a lot of enemies.”
“You’re something else, Nick, you really are.”
“Also, can you bring us some of that free bread? I feel like I’m going to vomit again.”
“The waitress will bring out the rolls with butter when she comes to take your orders. Thank you, and have a pleasant evening.”
I watched as the hostess walked over to the bar.
“She’s something, isn’t she?” I said. Look at that ass, back and forth, back and forth as she goes. She walks like a tiger, hunting its prey; it’s mesmerizing.”
“If it wasn’t because of her job, she wouldn’t even consider looking at you twice,” said Sandy.
“Are you kidding me? Look at me, I’m a beautiful bitch. Features like these are a gift from God; I got the face of an angel baby.”
“Yeah, sure, an angel that lost its wings in mid air and plummeted face first onto the concrete. You’re so handsome, I’m just so lucky to be with such a handsome, gorgeous man.”
“Well, I must’ve won some sort of lottery, to get a prize piece like you; with your flabby tits, saggy ass, and the ability to act like road kill during sex.”
“Did you ever think that I act like road kill, because you can’t fuck for shit?”
“Did you ever think that I don’t give a fuck about pleasing you? I want to get in and out as fast as I can, like the dentist.”
“Did you just compare sex to the dentist?”
The hostess snuck in with the fresh drinks and took the old rum and coke that was possibly tampered with. Sandy and I were too involved in our own conversation to even acknowledge her.
“I’m not comparing sex to the dentist. I’m saying your pussy is like the dentist, and my dick just wants to get in, and get the fuck out!”
“Well, maybe my pussy will cancel all your current appointments. Maybe my pussy will just completely close down, forever, because all dicks seem to have an asshole attached to them!”
I ignored her and took a long drink of my beer and finished nearly half of it.
“I hope you choke on that expensive beer,” she said, in an angry tone.
“Maybe if you drank more frequently, you wouldn’t be such a moody bitch.”
“Oh, I’m moody? This is coming from you? Mr. I hate the world and everything in it. You can’t even crack a smile without alcohol.”
“Don’t be jealous by the fact that alcohol gives me a lot more than you do. Liquor just, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, it gives me something no woman ever could. How do I put this, it gives me happiness,” I said sarcastically.
A waitress walked over with a basket of rolls and a plate of butter. She put it in the middle of the table and told us it was hot, and that she would be back in a few minutes so we could look over the menu some more.
“What are you going to order?” asked Sandy.
“I don’t think I’m going to get anything. I’m happy with this free bread, my beer, and my rum and coke.”
“I knew this would happen.”
“I knew you were only coming to dinner for some drinks. I knew you weren’t going to eat.”
“Yet you didn’t say anything?”
“Whatever, I’m used to it.”
“Atta girl. What are you going to order? Get the most expensive thing on the menu. I want only the best for my baby.”
“Just, shut up.”
The waitress walked back slowly, as I stared at her chest blatantly, and asked if we were ready to order.
“I’ll just have a chicken salad; nothing for him,” Sandy said.
“More bread, actually.”
The waitress wrote it all down and picked up our menus. “It should be about 15 minutes.”
“In that case, bring me another Heineken,” I said, just before finishing my rum and coke. “And you might as well take this glass away.”
She picked up the glass and I watched as she walked over to the bar. She looked better from the front.
“Now, see, the hostess has an incredible ass, and a sexy walk. This one, this waitress, she just doesn’t have it. She’s got a nice set of tits, but nothing from the back. She walks like she got fucked by a horse all day; it’s awkward and unbalanced.”
“You have something to say about everyone, don’t you?” Sandy said.
“I find it funny. When I open my restaurant, I’m not going to have a mix. I’ll have every waitress walking around topless, like they want to fuck every guy in the place.”
“So you’re going to open up a strip club?”
“Don’t get smart with me. It will be a classy restaurant, with a lot of tits, and a lot of alcohol.”
“That’s a strip club.”
“You know what, just forget it, you won’t be allowed in anyways; unless you need a job. But if that’s the case, you’ll need to get some plastic surgery on those little cupcakes.”
“First of all, I’d never work at a strip club, especially not one owned by you.”
“It’s not a fucking strip club!”
“Second of all, how dare you compare my breasts to little cupcakes. I don’t believe some of the sewage that comes out of your mouth sometimes.
“It’s not sewage. Everything I say should be quoted, copy written, and stored in a locked facility. I always speak the truth. There hasn’t been one time that you’ve said something more intelligent than me. There will be stories about me in the future, you’ll see, I’ll be a legend forever!”
“Sure you will; a legendary asshole.”
“That’s good enough for me. Oh, here comes our food,” I said, as the waitress walked towards us.
“You mean my food.”
“Alcohol is considered a meal to some people.”
The waitress gave Sandy her salad and put the fresh drinks in front of me.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I said.
“The bread will be another few minutes,” the waitress told me.
“Thank you,” said Sandy.
I finished my bottle of Heineken as the waitress walked back into the kitchen. Sandy was a slow eater, so I knew I could get at least 2 or 3 more bottles in me before we left. We didn’t talk as she ate, so I looked around at the other customers like they were peasants. I finished my beers and got a few more before Sandy finished, and asked someone beside us if they had a cigarette, but they didn’t. I thought about the piss filled bathroom, and wondered why nobody had complained yet, then considered going back for round 2, but Sandy was just finishing up and I was on my last beer. The waitress came to take the dishes and gave me the bill, which I handed to Sandy, before finishing the rest of my beer. I stood up as Sandy was putting together the money, took one last look at the waitress’ rack, and stumbled outside to piss behind the building in case someone accused me of defiling the bathroom. A family pulled into the parking spot beside the bush I was watering, but I was too drunk to care.
“That’s the opposite of what you should be when you’re older,” the father told his son as they stepped out of the car. “Those type of people ruin society.”
“Is he a bum, dad?” the son asked, as he watched me zip up my pants.
“Yes, son, he is a bum. Don’t stare at him; he might try to rob us.”
“I don’t need your fucking money!” I yelled. “I just need to put my fist through your head!”
“Oh my god!” the wife shouted.
“Get inside, everyone!” screamed the father.
“Yeah, you better run! I know who you really are, Superman! You can’t hide from me! Where’s your phone booth? Where you going to change? Get inside, and stay inside!”
Sandy walked out of the front door as the family frantically ran inside.
“Were they running from you?” she asked.
“No, no, I think they’re just hungry. They asked me for some spare change, the cheap fucks. It’s those types of people that ruin society.”
“They didn’t look like they were poor.”
“Trust me, Sandy; they were like sewer rats, all of them. The guy even told me he pissed all over the bathroom inside. What a degenerate.”
“That’s disgusting. Maybe we should go tell the manager.”
“Let’s just get in the car and head to the liquor store. Fuck this place.”

The second we got home I started going through the ashtray for leftover butts. I poured the tobacco out of a few and rolled it into a full smoke as Sandy stood there, staring at me.
“Now who’s the degenerate?” she said.
“It’s the end of the road here. I’m at the point of no return. I don’t give a shit anymore, I need this.” I lit the cigarette and instantly felt better. “My lungs are in heaven.”
“Can you put this shit away?” she said, holding the bags from the liquor store.
“Put it away? Give it here,” I said, as I grabbed the bags. “I’m going to start with the rum. You take the white wine.”
“Right, right, because you don’t drink white wine. White wine is for pussies.”
“White wine is for pussies! Red wine is a man’s drink. It’s bitter and dry, and sometimes rough. White wine is sweet and light, with fancy names like Chardonnay and Riesling. And the way I see it, sweet, light, fancy named drinks are for faggots!”
I finished my cigarette as Sandy got the corkscrew and some glasses. It had gotten a bit cooler since the sun set but it was still warm enough to complain about.
“Open the windows while you’re up,” I said.
“It’s not that hot out. You’re just warm because you’re drunk.”
“Don’t tell me what I am, just open the windows. What does it matter what I’m hot from? Either way I’m hot.”
She opened the windows and the front door, and put the glasses on the table in front of me.
“Do you need anything else, because once I sit down and pour this wine I’m not getting up,” she said.
“I just need a pack of cigarettes.”
Sandy opened the wine bottle and poured herself a glass. I sat up and filled a glass half full with rum.
“Where’s the coke?” I said.
“What coke?”
“You know; the coke that’s mixed into rum; the coke that is half of a rum and coke; the fucking coke that I need to pour into this glass to have a rum and coke!”
“You didn’t say anything about any coke.”
“That’s because I thought you were getting it!”
“You never told me to get it. You told me to get wine and rum. What’s the big deal anyways, you’re drunk, just drink it straight.”
“You don’t know your ass from your hand!” I put the rum in the fridge and grabbed the bottle of red wine from the bag. “Now I got to slam this to feel anything close to what that rum would’ve done to me.”
“Or you could just drink it normally like a civilized person.”
“Sandy, don’t start with that bullshit. You know my tolerance is incredible. The amount of liquor that I need to get drunk could tranquilize a full grown rhino. So don’t start with that drinking ‘normal’ garbage, because you know I’m not normal.”
She picked up a magazine and sipped on her wine. It was a mutual agreement we made a long time ago that I could drink myself silly and complain about the world and she would either pretend to listen, or listen without getting angry. So I continued.
“I could drink a whole bar under the table. It’s weird, you know, I hate Superman so much, but I feel like I’m the Superman of drinking.” I put the bottle to my mouth and let the red wine flow down my throat like a waterfall. “Goddamn that’s amazing! It’s instant gratification. I got to say, I could be a psychiatrist. People would come in and tell me about their problems, they’d cry and I’d call them pussies and whiners and then I’d ask if they drink. The ones that drink and are still bitching like little girls I’ll offer a loaded handgun and a bottle of whiskey to, but the ones that don’t drink I’ll just to prescribe them with 40% liquor. And trust me I’ll change their lives forever.”
“Do you even realize what you’re saying half the time? You sound like a maniacal, evil psychopath. You’re saying you’d tell people who come to you, looking for support and medical help, to either get drunk and shoot themselves, or just drink until they forget about their problems?”
“You’re just confusing me now.” The wine was sinking in nicely. “I’ll just shoot everybody that looks like Superman. Then I’ll drink, I’ll drink everything I can get my hands on!” I started swaying around the kitchen, trying to catch my balance.
“I think you should go to bed. You’re going to fall and break something.”
“Maybe you should go to bed! You think I can’t handle this? You think I’m too weak? This is how weak I am!” I held the wine just above my mouth and poured the rest in. Just as I finished I dropped the bottle and the glass shattered everywhere.
“Get to bed!” yelled Sandy. “You’re going to ruin the house and hurt yourself!”
I sat down on the floor and stared at the fridge. “Get some coke,” I muttered. “We have to finish the rum. The rum won’t finish itself. Get the rum, just get the rum.”
Sandy came over and helped me get up off the floor. “You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that? It’s amazing how many times I have to help you walk to your own bed.”
“I’m still tough,” I slurred. “I’m tougher than tough.”
“I know, I know, you’re tougher than Superman.”
I rolled onto the bed and instantly passed out, as Sandy stood there, staring at me, wondering where her life went wrong.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010


the quickest escape route is not always the safest.
I could go on and on about control
youd never understand.

I could explain the feeling of acceptance
having the knowledge
of a complete, and finished existence;
youd never understand.

an unfulfilled mind is incapable of grasping the thought.
it hasnt reached the finish line
I would like to take you with me,
youd never understand.

the distance travelled is unimaginable.
a choice has been made,
the time
is finally set.
I could show you what I see, I could paint
a picture of my thoughts,
youd never understand

its a lonely road, a long journey,
and the ones who
are already gone.