By,
That night I decided to go out with George and her friends. Mostly I decide this is a good idea because when I think about going home, getting good and ripe, and masturbating it doesn’t sound like much fun anymore. It doesn’t sound fun because I’m starved for company and the prospect of meeting new people is still a novelty. So I go.
Sitting here in my car outside my apartment with the engine turned off, my head is crooned out the window for comfort because that’s the way it ended up. This is not a comfortable position but I’m getting really used to it which means that I’m relaxed (also I’m tired. I could fall asleep at any moment) so I suspect that my eyes, which feel fine, are actually open as wide as possible which is very disconcerting if you’re not used to having someone with bug eyes stare at you. I have a tendency to stare and I cannot help it. After ten minutes I start the engine. It takes me five more minutes before I can break my stare. A Mexican with a leathery face and his girlfriend glared at me as they walked by and quickly broke their glare. I can probably guess why. I go.
On the way to the diner I stop at a gas station and get gas. When I go inside I buy the biggest bottle of Gatorade I can find and a gallon of water because tonight I have some ecstasy and I’ll need the hydration and electrolytes to make up for the nutrients I’m about to burn like crazy. I also steal a high-carb/high-protein bar, two of them, because I’m going to need it, for I’m about to lose my appetite and I have a habit of forgetting to eat. I also steal this because it’s easy to conceal. I eat half a pill standing in line then pay for my things and go to the ATM. While the cashier’s back is turned I also hide a pack of jumper cables I have no intention of using in my coat. As I walk out the door toward my car I realize I do need jumper cables and in fact I’ve been meaning to buy some for a few months now. Now I don’t have to, and I feel better for it.
In general I steal things I need; food, things for car maintenance, shoes to replace my shoddy old ones, but also I steal things just to see if I can. Sometimes I’ll even buy things and pretend that I stole them just to see how a particular store will react so I can gauge how to steal in the future. I haven’t paid for batteries in six months. If you go to a movie you don’t want to pay for, for instance, take a cell phone because sometimes you can get away with talking on it or texting as you walk past a ticket taker so long as you look really focused. It works 90% of the time and timing is a factor here. This is the most direct way of doing it. Don’t be afraid to go into rooms and hallways you’re not supposed to. Act like you’re not afraid to do it, like you’re not doing anything wrong or unusual and you can get away with a lot. Also people will let you do it. Last week I got into a projection room playing a Vin Diesel movie (I forget which one). Military practice grenades are a good thing to keep with you as well because most people can’t tell the difference between one of these and a real one and even if they can, you can make them believe it’s real. Learn card tricks.
I’m in a strip mall parking lot where the diner is but I’m a fair distance from it. Instead I’m parked in front of a pet store I have no intention of entering. This is silly. I’m going to park closer. I need to see if George is there. I suspect she isn’t. I make a loop around the lot. She isn’t. I realize I’m a little early to casually meet a friend and some new people so I pass the time by sitting in the back seat of my car shuffling cards and listening to music I got from a record store where I told the shopkeep I want something to listen to if I’m really high. I get a little bored of shuffling cards so I walk around the strip mall until I want to listen to music again so I get back in my car. I took the passenger seat out of my car yesterday to clean the glass off the floor from a burglary that happened two weeks ago. I put the seat back after I finished cleaning the floor and after an hour or so I took it out again. I like the leg room. I’ve considered opening a taxi business that operates at strange hours for the sole purpose of driving drunks around because drunks like leg room and, depending on the drunk’s size, he or she could lay sideways on the floor. I’d charge out the ass.
Shuffling cards is suddenly a very keen pleasure. I can feel every one of them and it is wonderful to feel the cards flip into each other at the tips and then again arcing back into place squarely. Right now I can do sleight-of-hand tricks with great ease since I can feel every inch of the cards and my grip is wonderfully delicate. I turn up the music even louder and louder again and no matter how loud it gets I am not satisfied. I lose all of my patience suddenly and I decide it’s time to go inside the diner.
Without waiting to be seated I walk through the entire diner and once through the kitchen looking for these friends of George’s and I see a table occupied by some oddly paired girls who I imagine are probably her friends but due to the ecstasy running through my veins my patience is wearing thin so I cannot wait for George to show up even though she probably will since these are her friends and not mine and George is the whole reason I’m here.
Details wonderfully sharp, I walk very quickly to my car and take off down the biggest street I know toward the downtown dance clubs. Halfway there I realize I want to see my good friend, Adrian, who is really one of my only friends in town so I call him.
(Phone rings.) (
S.C.: Oh, I’m sorry man, did I wake you? Were you sleeping?
S.C.: Oh I see. How you doin’? You doin’ okay? I hope you are.
S.C.: Good! Good! Great! I feel good too. Real good.
S.C. Adrian, I feel supercharged right now. I wanna hang out. Can I come over a second and visit? Just for a little while. I just want to say hi.
S.C.: Okay, see you in a bit! (I cut him off and hang up before he finishes his sentence.)
I quickly turn my car around (probably illegally, I can’t tell) and drive the five miles to his house and I’m up the stairs and knocking on his door in no time. It’s dark but through the screen door I can see him sitting on the couch in front of the television. I can see clearly in the dark. I open the door and come inside before he gets up and I sit down on the banana chair between the couch and the TV which startles him since I’m moving faster, albeit more smoothly than normal.
Kyesha: Wow, you got here quick.
S.C.: Yeah, I know! Oh, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to. Oh hey, Kyesha! How’s it going? Are you feeling good too? Does my voice sound loud to you guys? It sounds loud to me.
Kyesha: (Hesitant) You okay?
S.C.: Oh, I’m better than okay. (I sit fidgeting)
Kyesha: (Also chuckles) Hah, that’s why.
Both of them: So how are you feeling right now?
S.C.: God, I feel great guys. I am supercharged.
S.C.: Yep! But I’m going to go out tonight. (Kyesha has gotten up and strolled into the kitchen and has now come back with something in her hands I assume she plans to give to me).
Kyesha: (Smiling, almost giggling) Here. Have some of these (It’s a handful of gummyworms).
S.C. (I don’t like gummyworms, or most candy for that matter so I say thanks and put them on the table and stare at them, then Adrian, then back at the gummy worms).
S.C.: (Pause) Well I guess I’ll have one. (I take one, bite the head off it and chew it. One part I’m humoring them, one part I’m curious. I finish in seconds and put half of a worm back on the table. Five seconds later I grab four more and bite the heads of all of them, one by one, and put their torsos back on the table and while I’m doing this,
S.C.: OH GOD! LOOK AT YOU! (He lays Mr. Kitty on my lap and I feel its entire body weight sink into me and I accept him fully. His warmth is a golden ember and I can feel each one of his hairs vibrate into my skin, and while Adrian is giggling at me and Mr. Kitty is making out with me, purring very loudly, I realized how close I am to Adrian’s crotch. He wears loose biking shorts and it occurs to me that if he were to flop his cock out right here and suggest why don’t I have a go at it, I probably would and I wouldn’t know the difference which both scares and thrills me but I’m too high to be embarrassed by this so I shrug my shoulders and giggle to myself and instead decide not to give him head).
S.C.: I love you Mr. Kitty.
Generally seasoned ecstasy users suggest a good dose for first timers is half a pill but I wasn’t satisfied enough when I was wandering through the diner looking for George so I took the other half. As I sit here in this banana chair making out with this cat, I get a good hit and I—am—floored so I get up and say very rapidly but with great articulation “I’m gonna go. I’m gonna go now and go to the outdoor mall downtown and just walk around and be around people so, uh, I’ll see ya. I’ll see you later…maybe tonight. Probably.”
I get back on the road and drive toward downtown but I’m speeding like crazy and when I look in the rear view mirror my eyes have absolutely no color in them and I look like a maniac because my eyes are utterly open. I squint to make myself look more normal but it only makes it worse and I realize that if anyone were to even glance at me right now they’d know I was rolling balls.
I don’t go to the mall. Instead I go to a club I never go to and go directly to the bar and order two glasses of water with not very much ice and I drink one immediately. This is a fetish club and for some reason all I notice are fat girls, who are not my type (not that you’d know it—I’ve dated lots of fat girls) but all I want to do is bury my face in their thighs which I think is really funny so I laugh and then giggle and then laugh some more about it. I then go to the dance floor and look around mesmerized by the lights and it takes me a minute before I see that there is no one in this club and aloud I say very distinctly “BORED,” so I leave. Not but halfway through the parking lot I realize I am way more bored out here where there’s no music (even though the DJ has no idea what he’s doing) so I turn around and go back inside and tell the doormen that ‘I forgot my keys and could they just let my in?’ They do, and I get another glass of water. Fifteen minutes later I’m bored again so I leave unretreatingly this time and go to two more bars where I hit on more fat women. At the last one, the doorman had noticed how dilated my eyes were but let me in anyway (why not?) but after a couple complaints they kicked me out which is probably for the best since I’m carrying more than two knives. Like a kid in a supermarket touching everything he sees walking down an aisle, I drag my hands across the arms and stomachs of every person waiting in line at the club which, unfathomably, is frowned upon and it dawns on me that if some meathead got up the gumption to punch me for it I wouldn’t care but would probably relish the feeling of such a sudden impact. I hear voices calling me faggot and I wave my arms in the air like a conductor and regrettably leave.
Not long after, I end up at a coffee shop where I don’t drink coffee. Somebody I pass standing in a group says loud enough for me to hear “Why so serious?” but I don’t pay attention even though I know exactly what they mean (I’m wearing a green and purple suit). Upstairs is a table full of gay guys, at least eight of them. They look very friendly (which I’m very keen on right now) so I mosey up to them and sit down without asking. I smile cheerfully and introduce myself—do you mind if I sit here with you guys?
“Oh, not at all!” they say encouragingly. All I can do is smile. Gay guys are funny. The guy I’m sitting next to touches my shoulder after a minute and I giggle and tell him to do it some more. As they’re asking me questions like “So where are you from?” and “What brings you to this part of the country?” I realize they’re catching on that there’s something up with me and they all seem very interested. When one of them, the handsome one, asks me jokingly if I come here often I say “no, but as it were, I happen to be rolling right now so I’m feeling up for anything and I just ended up here.” They each nod to one another knowingly and say “mmmm, I thought so!” And from another “Well I’m very, uh, sympathetic to your…chemical state.” I lean in close and say “If I know what you mean” and then wink comically. They make laughter. I’m glad. They lean in intently and I point out, changing the subject, that “I couldn’t help noticing this lad hitting on this other lad here.” The one fans himself embarrassed and I say “No, no It’s fine! Isn’t he handsome though? You really are handsome, do you know this? It’s the moustache that does it.” Everyone laughs, bewildered. I am a prince to them. I am quite high right now. Really high. Too high, and I have to get out. I feel like I’m about to be hot.
When I excuse myself to get up I take in the entire room. There are a lot of people staring at me. I come skipping to one of the tables, the one with three Japanese girls, (I know the difference) and say “Is it the tie? Too much?” then fix my tie and laugh at them. I have to leave now. I have to get back to
At Adrian’s house I admit to him that even though he gives me a hard time and makes fun of me to no end I know that he means well although I know that he’s virtually incapable of loving another person which is why none of his relationships (of which there are many) ever amount to much and why his girlfriends are unsatisfied. In fact, I almost wish he were more abrasive with me. We’re sitting on his porch during this time and he confirms everything I say with several nods.
From the time I left the diner parking lot to now it has probably been only an hour and a half and considering this I leave
S.C.: Excuse the suit. I went to a party.
Girl 1: Like that? (George and Anna gasp, sort of). I mean, what kind of party?
S.C.: A costume party (A smile from my face flashes then turns into a grin). I’m the Wizard of Oz. Hah. (I put my hand at my sides and I feel a bulge in my jacket pocket and I put my hand in it to see what it is.)(Gasp) Gummy! (My pocket is full of half-eaten gummy worms. I pull out one and stick out my tongue. Then I place the worm on it and push it into the back of my mouth with my finger and leave it there for a second.)
George: What the fuck was that?
S.C.: I love gummy worms, George. Did you know that?
(Anna and Girl 1 are looking at each other confused. It hits me why—Anna’s not used to hearing my voice like this. I was in a funny mood on the day I started at the factory and I slipped into an accent. I’ve been there almost a year and I still keep it up. She knows I’m not English. I told her so. I told her I only grew up with Brits and I told her exactly where I’m from, so technically I’m not lying about anything. Sometimes she asks me repeat certain words, like computer, because it sounds funny the way I say it. I also have to repeat certain words because I get a little unintelligible).
Anna: What did you call her?
S.C.: (I furrow my brows) Geeoooorrge. (That’s literally the way it comes out. I’m still pretty high right now; every word that flutters from my mouth is a fantasy of sonic wonder where breath and soft flesh frolic angelically to create music)
Anna: You mean Trixy?
S.C.: No, I think you mean George. That’s her name. (Anna also knows I’m high right now. I told her at work I would be)
Anna: Oh yeah? Why is that? Wait, haven’t you two met before?
S.C.: We have, but we haven’t! (Indicating Girl 1) My name is Skelton, but you can call me on a telephone. Dial ‘9’ to get out. (Anna shakes her head ‘no’ then stifles a laugh with a grin)
Girl 1: (Extending a hand) I’m Breanne.
S.C.: Breanne? Très heureux.
Anna: So you’re really not English. I mean, you just sound like that, right? Is that the way your voice really sounds?—
S.C.: (To George) Why don’t we date? I like you. We should date, I’d like to. (There, I said it. It would’ve been more of a labor if I didn’t have my girlfriend with me. By the way, have you met my girlfriend, Molly? That’s the short version. Her full name is Methylenedioxymethamphetamene. We hooked up today. She’s great.)
George: Uh…(she studies me a second) I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that.
S.C.: Hah, which means you won’t. That’s what that means. You’ve already made up your mind. Why not? Is it because I’m strange? I mean I know I’m strange but I’m not that strange, not that you’d believe me by this get-up I’m wearing.
George: I don’t know.
S.C.: (I study her) You don’t have to pretend not to have an answer. You can just say it. There’s no way you can offend me right now (thank you, Molly).
Anna: So you just do the accent just because, or what?
S.C.: Yep! I made it up. I got a wild hair the day I started and at the end of the day I knew I had made an impression with too many people so I never stopped doing it.
Anna: That’s weird. That’s so weird. Why do you do it? Do you just like acting or something?
S.C.: (Duh.) I suspect I’m kind of a compulsive liar. It’s a common misconception that compulsive liars cannot tell the truth. We can, and we like to, the thing is that a compulsive liar cannot resist the opportunity to lie or bend the truth. Me? I like being frank. I sort of feel like it evens out.
Anna: (She’s looking at my eyes) Are you high right now?
S.C.: God, yes. Finally someone says it; yes I’m high. I’m fly-fly-flying.
George: Mmmm that might be a problem then.
S.C.: Well. (Hang on. I’m thinking.) How about next week when I’m not high we can go out. (I wait for her reaction) Trixy. (By calling her Trixy I hope she realizes I’m giving her the opportunity to take the lie and go with it. Spring the trap on her first, then give her a way out.) Even if you’re not 100% on this you should come out with me. Breanne, what would you do? Would you take me up on it?
Breanne: Maybe.
S.C.: You never know. It could be fun.
Breanne: It could be.
S.C.: (I look at George—‘see?’) You know what, Breanne? I’ll level with you and tell you a secret: I really think you’re prettier than Trixy (a lie) but there’s something else I like about her and I’m not sure exactly what it is so I wanna take her out so she can show me, (I lean closer and cover my hand to the side of my mouth) and if she says no I’m gonna cry. What do you think she should do? You can be honest.
Breanne: Well, since you’re so nice, I...think…yes. If I were her I guess I’d go.
S.C.: Good job. (I put my hand up for a hi-five) (Now to George,) You see? Breanne’s a nice girl, you should listen to her. (God help me if any of this works) She does have a point. I think you can see through my lies. I may be strange but I can also be a pretty nice guy. What do you say?
George: Do we have to dress up?
S.C.: Would you? I think you should. We would be eating out and I’m bound to be hungry for Italian food sometime soon. (If you offered me Italian food right now, however, I’d just as soon take my pocket full of gummy worms. Oh yeah! I forgot I have gummy worms. God, those things are great). What if we go out next Thursday?
George: Okay. Deal.
S.C.: Great, now I’m gonna go. I need some fresh air and I’m meeting a friend soon. We’re going to sneak into a movie. Breanne, it was nice to meet you. Anna, we work together so we already know each other. (I stand up with my fingers in the air like a conductor and hold them there) I’m…going. Ciao (I take a very long time to say this. Friction feels so right in my mouth).
In my car I drink the rest of the Gatorade and take off and as I’m speeding more than necessary it occurs to me that it’s a good thing my 1.3L 4-cylinder engine is so slow. If I were driving, say, a Porsche, there would be no stopping me. I would wrap myself around another car and I would have no complaints. All the headlights from the other cars are extremely bright. I have never seen lights so bright. I am hypnotized. I can feel my high start to trail off so I get on the freeway where I can go as fast as I want and head home. While I’m heading home I scratch my crotch and remember my penis is there and it feels even greater than normal and now I can’t wait to get home so I can watch porn and masturbate in the shower.
I’m home now and I go straight to my room take off all my clothes and I relish every second of it, like undressing an invalid limb. Naked, I lye on my bed writhing like a cat for about five minutes, moaning the entire time. I wish I were a woman. I’m not going to wish that later but I wish I was a woman right now. Before I get in the shower I remember the advice Anna, the high school girl I bought X from, gave me and I rub Vicks VapoRub on my chest. She says I’m only supposed to rub a little bit but I lost control and rubbed it all over my face and hair which I really don’t want to do because it takes a long time to get out.
So I watch porn, fuck myself in the shower, wash my feet before putting honey on them and sucking it off each one of my toes, then I writhe in bed some more. You know that Snuggles fabric softener commercial? Snuggles looks how towel-drying yourself after a shower feels when you’re rolling. The downside to this experience is I sweat when I sleep. I hate that. I’m probably more gay than I realize. I’m gonna just bury that for now.
