***NOTE: I wrote this a couple months ago, but was embarrased to put it up, for reasons you’ll understand after reading it. But after looking it over again I realized this wasn’t a bad piece of writing. So, per usual, at my expense…enjoy.
“So, the girl says to her mother, ‘A boy tried to stick his tricycle in my garage so I took his wheels!”
The table of “friends” I’m with bursts into laughter. I fiend a giggle while unnoticeably rolling my eyes. I didn’t understand why Lamar had to tell that same joke to every person he met. I excuse myself and head to the bar for a refill. I’m on my second Long Island iced tea and I’m still not feeling a thing. I can’t believe I’ve built up a tolerance already. I so don’t have the money for this. At the bar I flag down Roxy, my favorite lezbo bartender. She makes my drinks just like I like my men, tall and hard.
“Hey babe,” she yells over the noise with a smile.
“Hey hon,” I say leaning over the bar to give her a peck on the cheek. “It’s crazy in here isn’t it!”
“Tell me about it,” she says with a frown. “I’ll be with you in a minute, you want another Long Island?”
“You know it.”
She sends a wink my way and heads to the other side of the bar to finish another group’s round of shots. I climb atop the barstool leaning next to me. I didn’t mind waiting. Any excuse to steal away from Lamar’s caddy and annoying group of friends was fine with me. I was only tagging along for an excuse to get out of the house anyway, working from home isn’t exactly all it’s cracked up to be.
A few moments later Roxy returns with my drink and I head back out to the patio where the boys are sitting, now starting a discussion about their latest sex-capades. Just as I’m about to sit down I unfortunately notice a familiar face. I try to quickly swing my head down toward the table. Damn it! He saw me. I put on a fake smile as my ex-boyfriend walks over to say hello.
“Hey Dwayne, I didn’t expect to run into you here, how are you doing!?” he says cheerfully drunk while leaning in for a hug.
I lean back and slightly push him away. “Hello J—–,” I say removing all emotion from my tone.
“So, it’s like that.”
“Yes,” this time with a smirk. “It’s like that.”
“Who is this Dwayne?” Lamar chimes in.
“This is J—–.”
“Oh,” Lamar grunts, knowing our history. “You really got the nerve to come over here and speak to us?!”
“Cool it, Lamar,” I say in a loud whisper.
“Look, I just came over here to say hi. It’s been a while and I’ve missed you,” J—– says.
“I’m sure you have,” I reply. “Well, you’ve said hello, now you can leave.”
He starts to turn away, but then whips back around.
“You know what Dwayne?” he says raising his voice slightly.
This could get interesting. “What J—–?” I reply leaning back smugly.
“I don’t know what you’re fucking problem is. You put me on blast on your stank blog and I’m in the wrong for wanting to be nice and say hi? If anything you should be apologizing to me.” The dull roar begins to subside as people start starring at the forming conflict.
I stand up so I’m at his level. “Excuse me? You want me to apologize to you. I do believe you were the one who played me and then dumped me on Valentines Day. I could care less what the fuck you think about my blog.”
Not only has the patio become dead quit at this point, but the bar’s patrons are now backing away into a circle around us, as if we were about to break into dance.
Lamar makes a futile attempt to calm us down. “Guys, maybe you shouldn’t do this here.”
“You were moving way to fast and you know it, don’t blame me because it didn’t work out. I already apologized for all that,” J—– says.
“Oh wow, you apologized, that makes it so much better,” I say. “And how dare you say I was moving too fast. You were the one who said you were in love with me after we had only been together for two weeks!”
“Yeah, because I knew that’s want you wanted to hear. You were the one who kept talking about how much you wanted to be in love.”
“You broke up with me because I wouldn’t say I loved you back! Then two months later I finally tell you that I love you, and you bail!”
At this point we’re pretty much screaming at each other. Out of the corner of my eye I see the patio bartender head inside, probably to get security.
“And don’t give me that bullshit about you choosing the church over me. You went off with that Troy dude from your job,” I say.
“You’re so fucking crazy paranoid dude,” he says mocking the way I said dude.
“Don’t lie to me, I overhead you talking to him on the phone while you were at my house. To which you said I was being paranoid and then got the nerve to get mad at me for being jealous. You, of all people, know that I’m not that stupid. And about the blog, writing is how I handle shit, but you don’t know that because all you think or care about is yourself.
“Whatever Dwayne, you weren’t in love, you just wanted to be in love. You’re a lovesick immature puppy who’s confused.”
“Don’t even get me started on which one of us is confused,” I say scoffing. “You just can’t face you mommy and let her and the rest of your wacked out family know that she raised a faggot.”
He reaches back and slaps me and I stumble to the side. The crowd sends off a collective gasp. As I gain my balance a small stream of blood runs over my lip. I turn to face him, my eyes filling with rage.
“You feel better now! You feel like a fucking man now!” I scream getting in his face and pushing him back with my chest. “Go ahead, hit me again! Make mommy and god proud.”
“I’m sorry.” He hangs his head and steps back. “We didn’t love each other, it was all a fake fairy tale.”
I snap my head back in his direction. “I never lied to you.” I turn my head and violently spit blood on the concrete. The patio bartender and a bouncer break though the crowd.
“I’m gonna have to ask you guys to leave,” he says gesturing toward the exit.
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all night,” I say taking a couple steps back to our table. I grab the more then half full Long Island and down the rest of it. “Goodbye guys. I’ll call you later Lamar.”
“Bye Dwayne,” he barely whispers in shock at my participation in the scene that just unfolded.
I head toward the exit brushing past J—– in the process. A few steps past him I turn around. “Next time you see me when we’re out, do us both a favor and keep on walking.”
–
I wake up in a cold sweat. The clock reads 5:17. I sit up moaning in mental anguish.
Shit, one fucking Myspace message after two months of not speaking and my dreams run fucking wild.
I drop back into my pillow. Why can’t I get over this loser!? A smile stretches across my face as I head back to sleep. Well, at least I’m 15 pounds lighter.
Ugh, if only that were enough.
Until next time,
D.A. Steward
