high you can't sustain
i get back to my place at around 1:30 and i already know that i'll be at least an hour late.
i wash up and put some clothes on and jet to her house. melissa walks out with a white halter top and matching white skirt. her skin is perfectly tanned and her slim legs connect to her sandals. as for me, i'm wearing a black button-down made from calvin klein and tie by ralph lauren. i'm also wearing a perfectly-fitted pair of dockers and the same shoes that i wore earlier in the day.
i grab her off-white/cream clutch and pull her by the arm to my car.
we speed away as my car attempts to pull into second gear as i smash the accelerator into the ground.
i pump my car full of Ladytron. all i feel that i can possibly do in this mindset is to listen to pulsating beats and soothing vocals. she calmly nods her head in unison with the low-profile sullen sound of Ladytron, and i do the same.
we're on the 67, in the fast lane, and i've got my left hand at two o'clock. at any time, i could pull my arm to the left, smashing my car into the concrete median. unconsciously, i realize that i'm thinking out loud to her as she passively gives me eye gestures from the passenger seat.
"go ahead, do it. you don't have me stopping you. i know that if you choose to do something like this, that it's for some fucking good reason." her head is propped up by her right hand and her left hand is on her lap holding her clutch.
i pull out a nickel from my change drawer and roll my window down. i steady the car down a downhill straightaway as i close into the median, just so that i have enough clearance in between my driver-side mirror and the median. i'm going about 70, and i press the nickel into the median for a good 5 seconds. with the coin still warm from the friction, i then toss it over to melissa, trying my best to land the coin into her left hand.
"looks like about an eighth or so of the coin is gone, think a vending machine will still take it?" she then places the coin into one of my empty cup holders.
"right now, i'm thinking about putting my teeth on that median. just to grind away at my mouth and eventually shred my head to pieces. you know, go out with a bang and possibly have you witness it all." i say this in the most casual of vocal tones.
right now i seem like a fucking borderline nutcase and/or psychopath.
we pull into viejas, and as we go up the main stairs, she slips me a tab of mescaline in my hand before she wraps her arm around mine to keep warm.
as soon as we lay foot upon the casino floor, i get carded while she walks to the vast array of video poker machines.
"you don't do slots?"
"for a second, i thought you said 'sluts,' but no, slot machines have the worst payout ever. you can't fuck with the payout scheme of a slot machine, but you can win at video poker on a regular basis."
"good logic ms. brains." i take a seat to her left.
"give me your wallet." she says this after searching her clutch for no less than 10 seconds, not even pulling out her own purse.
"what? don't you have your own money?"
"we're going to split whatever cash you have in your wallet." her face is plastered with a mask of seriousness, and i give in nonetheless.
"fine, take what you want." and i toss my wallet at her lap, giving it a slight spin that is supposed to signify that 'i don't give a shit' without explicitly stating it.
she picks out $60 in twenty-dollar bills. she then looks under one of my high-school prom pictures and finds another twenty-dollar bill. my emergency money in case i ever needed that extra twenty bucks, that bitch.
we end up playing off our initial $40 each for about 2 hours. passing along casual lines of conversation between us during that duration of time.
"how's the new school and area?" she delivers this question while choosing to hold a pair of kings, without even diverting a slightest bit of attention towards me.
"the school is nice, the area is a shithole though. i would much rather have san diego." my reply is just as oblivious as hers, but i'm holding three jacks instead.
"any new friends?" she lets out a subtle grin after winning with a three-of-a-kind of kings.
"no, fuck friends. fuck the people that interrupt my life. fuck the phone calls, text messages, and voices that somehow route their way towards me to annoy the fuck out of me. fuck people, fuck humanity, fuck whatever 'destiny' is supposed to be." i tilt my head a little to the right, there is no sarcasm and she knows it. i end up winning with a full house of jacks and a pair of aces.
halfway through this conversation, the mescaline is slowly coursing through both our veins, blowing our minds apart. i can already feel the heat emanating from my forehead and obvious hand-jitters as i let my eyes scan melissa's body.
"if you were asked to be a part of something. to be with someone, would you accept?" she's got a 3 and a 4, off-suit.
"what would i do? i would purposely ignore them. to let them know that i don't want their little god damn fucking association. none of that recycled fake bullshit. " i go all-in when i see the river nets me a four-of-a-kind in aces.
"you're the type of person that practice what he preaches, and i like that. i think it's cute." she wins with a 7-high straight and pulls in $20 from the machine. she leans a little bit out of her chair, supporting herself with a hand on my shoulder and she kisses me lightly on the cheek.
not a sympathy kiss, but the kind of kiss that's slow on the release and screams 'i like being with you' with none of that superfluous romance bullshit.
as she releases, she slips me another tab of mescaline that she carefully palmed out of view of the security cameras. i chew on this powder-blue and wash it down with my own saliva.
this makes me grin, and we end our gambling with me winning with a pair of 8's with a queen kicker.
after all of this, she ends up winning $135 and i end up with $120 in winnings.
i get up and start walking out to the car. she loops her arm around mine and closely pulls herself to my arm to keep warm.
once we pull up to her place, i let her get out of the car so that i wouldn't have to search for a parking spot. i roll my window down and she bends over with her arms resting on the window.
"here, take these. you're free to use them whenever you see the situation fit." she drops a plastic ziploc bag of powder-white mescaline tabs, around 10 of them sit in that plastic vessel.
"you are a fucking godsend." i hide these in a spare case for my glasses.
"you luhhh me?" she purposely fucks up the word "love" and lays the incorrect wording with the speech slurring of an obese lady.
"don't you ever fucking say that again. and no, i don't love you, but you get the point." at this point, i sound like a misogynic chauvinist asshole.
"cute." she smiles and waves her little hand at me.
i wash up and put some clothes on and jet to her house. melissa walks out with a white halter top and matching white skirt. her skin is perfectly tanned and her slim legs connect to her sandals. as for me, i'm wearing a black button-down made from calvin klein and tie by ralph lauren. i'm also wearing a perfectly-fitted pair of dockers and the same shoes that i wore earlier in the day.
i grab her off-white/cream clutch and pull her by the arm to my car.
we speed away as my car attempts to pull into second gear as i smash the accelerator into the ground.
i pump my car full of Ladytron. all i feel that i can possibly do in this mindset is to listen to pulsating beats and soothing vocals. she calmly nods her head in unison with the low-profile sullen sound of Ladytron, and i do the same.
we're on the 67, in the fast lane, and i've got my left hand at two o'clock. at any time, i could pull my arm to the left, smashing my car into the concrete median. unconsciously, i realize that i'm thinking out loud to her as she passively gives me eye gestures from the passenger seat.
"go ahead, do it. you don't have me stopping you. i know that if you choose to do something like this, that it's for some fucking good reason." her head is propped up by her right hand and her left hand is on her lap holding her clutch.
i pull out a nickel from my change drawer and roll my window down. i steady the car down a downhill straightaway as i close into the median, just so that i have enough clearance in between my driver-side mirror and the median. i'm going about 70, and i press the nickel into the median for a good 5 seconds. with the coin still warm from the friction, i then toss it over to melissa, trying my best to land the coin into her left hand.
"looks like about an eighth or so of the coin is gone, think a vending machine will still take it?" she then places the coin into one of my empty cup holders.
"right now, i'm thinking about putting my teeth on that median. just to grind away at my mouth and eventually shred my head to pieces. you know, go out with a bang and possibly have you witness it all." i say this in the most casual of vocal tones.
right now i seem like a fucking borderline nutcase and/or psychopath.
we pull into viejas, and as we go up the main stairs, she slips me a tab of mescaline in my hand before she wraps her arm around mine to keep warm.
as soon as we lay foot upon the casino floor, i get carded while she walks to the vast array of video poker machines.
"you don't do slots?"
"for a second, i thought you said 'sluts,' but no, slot machines have the worst payout ever. you can't fuck with the payout scheme of a slot machine, but you can win at video poker on a regular basis."
"good logic ms. brains." i take a seat to her left.
"give me your wallet." she says this after searching her clutch for no less than 10 seconds, not even pulling out her own purse.
"what? don't you have your own money?"
"we're going to split whatever cash you have in your wallet." her face is plastered with a mask of seriousness, and i give in nonetheless.
"fine, take what you want." and i toss my wallet at her lap, giving it a slight spin that is supposed to signify that 'i don't give a shit' without explicitly stating it.
she picks out $60 in twenty-dollar bills. she then looks under one of my high-school prom pictures and finds another twenty-dollar bill. my emergency money in case i ever needed that extra twenty bucks, that bitch.
we end up playing off our initial $40 each for about 2 hours. passing along casual lines of conversation between us during that duration of time.
"how's the new school and area?" she delivers this question while choosing to hold a pair of kings, without even diverting a slightest bit of attention towards me.
"the school is nice, the area is a shithole though. i would much rather have san diego." my reply is just as oblivious as hers, but i'm holding three jacks instead.
"any new friends?" she lets out a subtle grin after winning with a three-of-a-kind of kings.
"no, fuck friends. fuck the people that interrupt my life. fuck the phone calls, text messages, and voices that somehow route their way towards me to annoy the fuck out of me. fuck people, fuck humanity, fuck whatever 'destiny' is supposed to be." i tilt my head a little to the right, there is no sarcasm and she knows it. i end up winning with a full house of jacks and a pair of aces.
halfway through this conversation, the mescaline is slowly coursing through both our veins, blowing our minds apart. i can already feel the heat emanating from my forehead and obvious hand-jitters as i let my eyes scan melissa's body.
"if you were asked to be a part of something. to be with someone, would you accept?" she's got a 3 and a 4, off-suit.
"what would i do? i would purposely ignore them. to let them know that i don't want their little god damn fucking association. none of that recycled fake bullshit. " i go all-in when i see the river nets me a four-of-a-kind in aces.
"you're the type of person that practice what he preaches, and i like that. i think it's cute." she wins with a 7-high straight and pulls in $20 from the machine. she leans a little bit out of her chair, supporting herself with a hand on my shoulder and she kisses me lightly on the cheek.
not a sympathy kiss, but the kind of kiss that's slow on the release and screams 'i like being with you' with none of that superfluous romance bullshit.
as she releases, she slips me another tab of mescaline that she carefully palmed out of view of the security cameras. i chew on this powder-blue and wash it down with my own saliva.
this makes me grin, and we end our gambling with me winning with a pair of 8's with a queen kicker.
after all of this, she ends up winning $135 and i end up with $120 in winnings.
i get up and start walking out to the car. she loops her arm around mine and closely pulls herself to my arm to keep warm.
once we pull up to her place, i let her get out of the car so that i wouldn't have to search for a parking spot. i roll my window down and she bends over with her arms resting on the window.
"here, take these. you're free to use them whenever you see the situation fit." she drops a plastic ziploc bag of powder-white mescaline tabs, around 10 of them sit in that plastic vessel.
"you are a fucking godsend." i hide these in a spare case for my glasses.
"you luhhh me?" she purposely fucks up the word "love" and lays the incorrect wording with the speech slurring of an obese lady.
"don't you ever fucking say that again. and no, i don't love you, but you get the point." at this point, i sound like a misogynic chauvinist asshole.
"cute." she smiles and waves her little hand at me.