LaNoWriMo December 1st

You can never look into someone’s eyes too many times. It is mythologized that they eyes are the doorways to the soul. I don’t believe that shit but occasionally the eyes can tell you more than the person would like to reveal. I had known Maria for a good 3 years I had gazed into her eyes over diner, while talking, in the middle of fights and while having sex and I had never seen that look. She knew what I was seeing and began to tear up. I knew then that what I saw in her eyes was real and that the shit had begun.

Four years ago I was living hand to mouth. I lived in the un-insulated garage apartment belonging to a female friend of my mother’s. Mom asked Glory if she’d let me stay for cheep. Little did mom know that she was selling me into a life of being a boytoy. It is not as glamorous as it is made out to be in the movies. I was not a good looking 20-something who got to play dress up and have romantic diners and sensuous relations with an older cougar. I was a late 20’s loser who has to fuck the aging landlady to keep a roof over his head. She was more disgusting and demanding than I ever imagined being. She was not a horrible looking woman but she would demean me in such a way that I didn t find sex enjoyable for years after. When I met Maria I refused to have sex with her for months because I was so traumatized by the whole situation.

“Don’t you like me? I have never met a guy who didn’t jump at an opportunity to sleep with me,” Maria told me while we were lying in bed. She saw the look on my face and quickly added, “…or with any beautiful woman.”

“It is a long story Mari. I am just not comfortable with sex and I don’t exactly want to talk about it.”

“Were you molested? Are you gay?”

“No and no, but fuck… that was a really insensitive way of asking if I had been. Can you please accept that this is not a subject I want to talk about?”

“No, Barry. No I can’t. I needs too,” she paused, “I have needs.”

I was faceing the TV holding the pillow for safety. I tuned back towards her and looked into her eyes.

“Can you please drop this subject? If you are that upset I will concede to go see a therapist about it.”

“A therapist? A THERAPIST? You are gay! You were raped. Have you been to jail? Were you an alter boy?”

I got up from the bed with my pillow in hand.

“I love you and I understand that this is frustrating for you.” I sounded like a customer service agent. “I was not raped and I am not gay. I find you very attractive but I have some hang-up’s about sex that stemmed from a relation ship I was in right before we met. I am going into the living room and going to sleep. PLEASE. IF YOU LOVE ME. Shut the fuck up and leave me alone.”

She nodded and started crying. She was sitting in the middle of the bed on her knees and rocked back on her feet with the white sheet wrapped up around her. The TV cast multi-colored light over her left side and it made her look like she was undergoing some metamorphosis. I closed the door and went into the living room and turned on the TV.

She must have fallen asleep around 3. I woke up and had to piss. I peeked in and she was out so I crept in and retrieved my wallet and keys. Glasses were in the living room already. So was my clothes. There were some benefits to not throwing clothes in the hamper immediately. I got dressed and made my way out of the apartment and drove over to Glory’s house.

She had shacked up with some new kid in town after I left. I could tell it was his Mustang in the drive by the university sticker on the back. I parked down the street and kept the engine running. I opened up my trunk and removed the tire iron and baseball bat. I used the tire iron to flatten all 8 tires in the drive and then I went to town on the windows. The Mustangs front window exploded with a crack and triggered the car alarm. I had just enough time for a swipe at Glory’s BMW before I had to run off to my car.

I didn’t feel better but at least I was awake. 11 hours of the day I felt like I was still asleep lately. I stopped at All-Night Annie’s for a coffee and some breakfast.

I sat down at the last booth in the back inbetween the bathroom and jukebox. It was playing a song by Bond Maturity when I sat down. The waitress gave me an “I’ll be just a second honey” looks and continued minding the grill. I opened the menu and scanned through the breakfast fare.

“Good morning sweetheart, what can I get ya?”

“Um, I will have a coffee and an orange juice. Can I also have the two by three special?”

“You sure can what Kind of eggs do you want?”

“Scrambled”

“And what kind of meat do you want?”

“Give me, um Bacon and sausage.”

“Alrighty, and what about your sides. You can have grits, oatmeal, waffles or pancakes.”

“I will take grits and pancakes. Can I get the side of home fries?”

“You sure can. If you need anything else let me know and I’ll get these drinks right out for ya.”

“Thanks.”

Glory’s new boy would be lit like a firecracker and she’d be just as pissed. He really didn’t deserve it but she did and his car was there. And I was jealous. I know that is hard to buy given that I was the one with the beautiful girlfriend he couldn’t fuck but in some ways I missed Glory and this strengthened the hold she had over me. I didn’t want her to be with someone new. I felt all people should cease to exist once they were out of my life only to be resurrected again if I needed them. It has been a rough 30 years of figuring out that peoples lives go on (and most of the time very well) without the presence of yours truly.

I had been staring out the window at the traffic going down Woodson Avenue when I noticed that my coffee and orange juice was there. I looked over at the waitress who gave me a smile. She was a pretty gal. Couldn’t have been much older than me and definitely younger than Glory. I often fantasized about sweeping a girl stuck in a dead end job off her feet one night and flying her out to Vegas and just getting married. A real knight in shining armor type move. But I know how’d it’d end up. She’d either have a kid or some kids and wouldn’t be able to go, or she’d have an old man that she loved and wouldn’t leave, or, and this would be worse, I’d marry her just in time to realize we were completely incompatible. I don’t know how that would make things worse than it is now.

The waitress came back over to check on me.

“I see mostly sad men in here this time of night but honey you are taking the Oscar. What can be so damn bad?”

“I can’t fuck my current girlfriend cause four years ago my mom pimped me out to one of her friends who kept me as a sex toy.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m gonna have to think about that one. I’ll be back with your breakfast.”

I laughed a bit or at least smiled. She seemed like she was genuinely going to come up with a solution and damnit I certainly hoped she did.