Saturday, July 03, 2004

Naked threat

I was 24. It was Saturday night or Sunday morning depending on how you look at it. I came staggering through the door, stumbling in the dark over shit I knew hadn’t been in that spot when I left, like the couch and television. “Fucking-A, who the fuck put that there!” I fell into the shower, ripping the curtain down but not giving a damn where the water went as long as it rinsed the smell of second-hand cigarette smoke out of my hair. When I lathered up I considered giving Big Jay a tug, being as how he was all slippery with soap now, but the tequila had killed him. He was dead, aimed at my feet and ignoring my prompts. Worthless fucker.

I rinsed off and stumbled out of the tub, tripping over the shower curtain. I’m sure had I been sober the cold ceramic tile against my nuts would have meant more to me, but at the time I only remember thinking, “Damn. That’s sorta cold.” It took some effort, but I dragged my wet ass to my bed, which was nothing more than a mattress and box springs stacked on the floor against the wall. Oh yeah, I was impressing the honeys with that love nest.

Sleep gently drifted upon me like a 747 whose engines suddenly shut off in mid flight. Within seconds I was spread eagle on my back, mouth open, sheets sticking to my worthless hide, and rattling the windows in a blissful drunken unconsciousness.

Shortly after, I’m disturbed when my neighbor downstairs slams his front door. I ignore it and try to return to my dream before Demi changes her mind. Only this time my neighbor’s girlfriend starts in. I try to ignore them. “Stay, Demi, stay. Want a spanking?” But before she can beg me to smack that ass I hear, “Where the fuck have you been? Were you with her?”

I shake my head and squint in the dark, desperately trying to tune out the fight downstairs before Demi’s panties come back up. I turn onto my side and shove the pillow against my head, no help. Fifteen minutes later I hear him yell that he’s going to kill her if she doesn’t shut the fuck up. Hell yeah! No one would miss her ass. I’d help him bury the body if he’d give me a few hours to sober up. I would hate to blow chunks at the gravesite, DNA and all. Then I hear her yell, “She fucked you, didn’t she? DIDN’T SHE?!” and glass starts shattering.


I get out of bed and march straight down to his apartment. I can hear the shrill bitch through the door when I bang on it. He jerks it open with, “Who the fuck--” He stopped and stared as if we’d not been through this song and dance at least a dozen times before.

“Either kill that bitch, or I’ll fuck you myself! GOT IT?” He didn’t have to respond, I read the shock in his eyes. That's right! Fear me, motherfucker! I marched back up the stairs, scratching my nuts along the way when I realized…I never put any underwear on.