It took hours to get home. The train stop is three miles from my apartment. Good thing I was wearing sensible shoes.
One of you had a fishy cunt. I can still smell it on me. The same hand with your bite marks on the wrist. Souvenirs.
The girl with the eyes was actually a good host before she went crazy. She gave me a bullet vibrator to fingerfuck you guys with so I wouldn’t feel left out. Meanwhile she was wielding this weird loud salmon colored device with two menacing looking sci fi heads and the cute one was stabbing you in the pussy with two fingers while you were bent over. Do you know how to use this, she said as she handed it to me. What was I going to say, no? In reality I had no fucking idea. Turn it on and put it on someone’s pussy I guess. But it wasn’t about me anyway. I was baggage. The point of the party was for you to get laid and it was a courtesy for them to even allow me in the room. And I was too drunk to get hard. Blue eyes had a whole fucking retail display of Muscat grape wine lined up in her kitchen. It went down too easy.
In a perfect world I would have mounted up on the cute one and filled her full of mulatto babies I would never know about. But orgies make me uncomfortable. Even a multiracial four way with three hot women. The white girl is a redhead and the black girls are nice and dark; just watching your skin rubbing together should have been something but I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit.
Still. They were a nice find. We were at the downtown Standard. Pool party. The day looked like a lost cause; four guys for every girl and those guys were plumb ugly. We were both screwed. But then you came up with this black Lesbian couple and suddenly the day turned around. The cute one wanted my Adderall and the weird one, the one with the fake blue eyes and the titanium plate bolted on to her skeleton so she could have metal studs poking out of her skin– the weird one wanted your pussy. She wanted to take us back to her place in Tarzana. The drugs were at my place and I figured once we got high we’d forget about this ridiculous plan to go to the valley, but no. She insisted. She drove fast and she played dubstep music so loud it put my neckbones out of place. She was embarrassed about her Honda, had to explain that she’d had a BMW and a Ferrari before she’d crashed them into walls. She had been married to a rapper for years. Had kids by him. Before she turned gay. She was studying to be a lawyer. She wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. Before the fucking and then after when you passed out and scared them and she kicked us out and was calling the cops. Somehow her legal knowledge would make them come faster, punish me harder, she was telling me. As I climbed her fence I thought: you got that and I got racism and let’s see who wins.
The night turned to shit when you started gurgling and flopping around like you do. You drink and drink and it always hits you all at once. The girls got spooked. Maybe you said something. Maybe I said something, I can’t remember. For some reason I’m only seeing myself as the hero in all this. I promised the cute one I could get her into porn. This was so I could get a picture of her tits. It’s been less than ten hours and I’ve masturbated to it five times.
When you ran away from me I called you and called you. Of course, your phone wasn’t working. I texted you that if you didn’t answer we would never speak again. When I got home I unfriended you on Facebook. Then I went to block you on Twitter. But I saw that I had exactly 400 followers and didn’t want to fuck with the number. Such is my commitment to principle.
That morning you had made me a nice breakfast. A perfect plate of eggs and an English muffin with jam you made yourself. The day before that we’d taken the kids to a barbecue at someone’s grandmother’s house in Sherman Oaks. Tasteful home artfully decorated with Chinoiserie; people talking about their families and jobs. Kids playing Marco Polo in the pool. It was some Norman Rockwell shit and it felt good and safe. Like we were grownups.
But there was that thing hanging over us. It wasn’t going to be a weekend until we got drunk, until we got high, until we fucked somebody new and dirty, until we fought and maybe beat each other up and made strangers scared of us and did shit that might make us die. Something that would make a story.
Even so you didn’t want to come out. Pool parties make you feel fat, for one thing, and for another you have a job and a family and you need to hold your shit together now. But I have these speed pills, I said. We’ll have a good time. Come on honey– how bad could it be.
Anyway.
There Is No God, But
we still have the mountains and the hummingbirds. Or a good drink and a good fuck. Even a good shit and a good jerk. Try as you might, you cannot escape small pleasures. The flowers please you in spite of yourself, as you walk down the street muttering. Despairing over no text message from some girl you’d get tired of if she texted you back. Worrying about work. The clouds look painterly at sunset every god damn day and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. Even if you shut the blinds the magic hour light leaks through. A baby smiles at you in the checkout line. Sees something in your eyes. It was not lost.
Sunday in the Park
Out at the duck pond. Watching girls walk by. Many pretty young women with big breasts. Slutty teenage Mexican skater broads, like Hernandez brothers cartoons. Nice hot day; they strip down.
Girl kneeling in the grass, her ass sticking out. Tight olive drab shorts. A robust ass for an Asian woman. She looks like Gertrude. Maybe it’s her. She has a Skrillex haircut now, huh. I want to eat her out. Work my tongue all over her nice sweaty snatch. Now she’s leaving. She can detect my thoughts.
Sweaty thick Mexican running in a pink singlet with her ipod strapped to her arm. Her head shakes as she runs. Thick meaty ass. Weird little cone titties. I want to pin her down and rabbit fuck her like in a Japanese porno.
40 year old Thai woman walking with her toothless mother and her son. Mail order bride, was advertised as 23. Got some schlump locked in and then shipped her mother over. I want her to squat over me and clamp her pussy, use Southeast Asian hooker cunt tricks as I cuckold her pasty engineer breadwinner by blasting on her last viable egg.
A couple. Another thick Asian woman. Long braids. Black guy. Pushing a baby stroller. I want to force her head down on my cock with those braids as handlebars. Make her kiss her man with my jizz on her mouth.
Half white half Asian who looks 19, dressed like the squarest sophomore at Reed College. I have to crane my head around to look at her. She sees me. Yes, I am looking at you. I am picturing wrestling with your tight jeans. Struggling to get them around that bone in your ankles, finally getting just one leg off and holding the other foot up and climbing on top of you and pushing your panties to the side and plunging deep into your hot wet salty cunt. Thanks for smiling back. She is quite slim. Very well built. Hybrid vigor.
The small of the girl’s back in front of me. She has a face like Admiral Akbar but the small of her back has beautiful perfect dimples, visible as her tank top rides up. Try to see the good in people. Too tight daisy dukes choking just a little bit into soft back fat. Smooth legs. Long hair, that chestnut hair, I want to grab a fist full of it. Push her on her belly and open up her ass cheeks and grind on her clit upside down till she’s wet and tease into her pussy. Admiral Akbar face pushed into a convenient pillow. Her boyfriend looks like a dork. Good, I’m her type.