this was today
NOTE: I originally wrote this story between the hours of 5 and 7 am and posted it with out much editing. I've now went over it and corrected the errors I found and rewrote a few parts. I think I'm done with it, but who knows.
I must have been dreaming I was fat, because when I woke up, I was convinced I had somehow become one fat son of a bitch over night. I stood up and examined my near naked body in the bathroom mirror. I wasn't fat. I was glad about that, but just the same I thought to myself 'maybe I should exercise today just to be safe.' I remembered I bought some running shoes a while back that I had only bothered using twice. The first time I had went walking with my father one afternoon. The second time, I had decided at three o'clock in the morning that I wanted to go running, except I'm not a very fit person, so it was more like running for a half a block then walking a couple blocks, running another half a block and on and on. It was strange running around in the neighborhood at three in the morning. I didn't see anybody at all except for a homeless man sleeping at this World War 2 monument. I almost ran over him. It scared the shit out of me, because he was black, or maybe not because he was black, but because I didn’t see him until the very last second. But he was indeed black. When I saw him I jumped back a few steps and I started to run on, but then I thought 'Hey, that guy wasn't dead was he?' so I walked back to check and make sure he was breathing. He seemed to be breathing fine as best as I could tell from five or six feet away. So I went back to alternately running and walking through my neighborhood. Anyway, I have these running shoes and I decided I would put on this t-shirt and these jogging pants that aren’t really jogging pants. They're actually pajama pants but they're as close as I have to jogging pants. Then I would put on my running shoes and head out the door and on my way to my parents house.
It didn't take long to get to their house since it's ten steps or so away from the garage my apartment sits upon. When I walked in I was surprised to find my father sitting on the couch, watching television with his dog.
"What ya doing home at noon, old man?"
"Oh I'm not feelin' too well so I've got a doctors appointment at two."
He didn't look all that sick and that's kind of strange, because that man will work through anything, but I didn't question it further. I ran up stairs and found my way to this closet they have. It's a gigantic closet and it has a treadmill inside it. I didn't know how to work that contraption but my mother heard me making a racket in there and she came in and showed me how. She talked about the speeds and how she warms up at 3.5 miles an hour, then once she is warmed up, she turns up the speed to an even 5 miles an hour. She said I wouldn't want to start out on such a high setting, that I should start at 3 miles an hour, then once I am warmed up I can move up to 4ish miles an hour to start.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
I began at 3 miles an hour. I had twenty minutes of this. That’s nothing. Maybe I’d work up to 5 miles an hour too.
“No wonder you warm up at 3.5 miles an hour! You walk faster than this when you go shopping!”
I was watching television as I walked. It was an old cartoon with Sylvester the cat I hadn’t seen since I was a kid. I only vaguely recalled the plot but it didn’t take long to see where the story was going. There was a panther that had escaped from the zoo. The bulldog with the little terrier that followed him around ended up chasing Sylvester into an alley, and every time he would run into the stack of boxes and garbage in the alley, he’d get his ass handed to him by the Panther who was hidden there. After a bit, Sylvester gets to thinking he’s doing the ass kicking and he chases the bulldog back out of the alley where the bulldog is telling the terrier what a killer that cat is. The terrier looks at Sylvester completely baffled, grabs him by the tail and spins him around a few times and launches him back into the alley. The bulldog would then be baffled, regain his courage, stomp back into the alley and the entire process would repeat. Before I knew it five minutes had passed and I upped the speed to 3.5 miles an hour. It was faster than I thought it would be, but despite that, at the ten-minute mark I decided to move up to 4 miles an hour. Instantly, my calves started burning. I went back to 3.5 miles and managed to finish the 20 minutes. The bulldog was chasing the terrier around calling him a hero. I couldn’t believe I used to laugh at that crap. My calves felt really tight as I was stumbling back out into the hallway.
“Did you cool down?” my mother asked as I began stumbling down the stairs.
“You didn’t tell me I had to cool down, woman!”
“Oh, well you’re supposed to do at least a few minutes of walking at about 2 miles an hour to cool down. You better stretch.”
I stretched in a ridiculously exaggerated manner and left.
I think I had been awake all but maybe an hour and a half, but after eating a sandwich, I couldn’t think of much I wanted to do. I didn’t feel like leaving the house. I looked at a book I have been reading and I couldn’t manage to make myself pick it up. Television seemed out of the question. My bed seemed the only logical solution. I turned my ceiling fan on high, crawled into bed, pulled the covers up to my chin and wrapped my limbs around a couple extra pillows and went to sleep.
My dream was strange. I can’t remember all of it, just assorted pieces. But as best as I can recollect, I was in love with Lis Silano and she was here, or maybe I was in Pittsburgh, but regardless, we were together. I remember we had just fallen in love and we spent the night sharing a bed. There wasn’t anything really physical, we just held each other all night. The next day, when we awoke, I knew we were on the run. Lis had gotten herself into some trouble. She had stolen something from some sort of an organization. I knew I had to pay her debts. I was deeply in love with that girl of mine and I was going to resolve this issue regardless of the costs, regardless of the risk of my own personal safety! We couldn’t live our lives together on the run! It must be done! So I went to see some woman. She began talking about how Lis had stolen ‘it’ from a child. Now I wasn’t sure at first, but I began to think ‘it’ was some sort of model racecar she had stolen. This woman made this out to be a matter of great importance. She kept speaking about how they were a non-profit organization and these racecars were of dire importance to these children. She pointed to a little black girl who was crying and explained she was crying because Lis had stolen her racecar. I told her I was sure that it was a misunderstanding and that Lis would gladly return the racecar, but in the interest of an expedient resolution I would gladly pay for the stolen racecar. She told me the racecar was worth thirty-five dollars. Thirty-five dollars?!?! That’s all? I was a bit surprised. Surely we weren’t on the run over a thirty-five dollar racecar? I handed the woman a one hundred dollar bill and told her to consider the change a donation to her organization. She was grateful and said all was forgotten. I was really excited about returning to Lis and explaining to her that we didn’t have anything left to worry about. Her dept had been paid and I had paid it. I was going to be her hero! Lis was going to fall even deeper in love with me. But when I got back to where we were hiding out, I found her in the racecar. The fucking thing was a bright red Lamborghini! She was in the street revving the engine beside a black Ferrari. There was another beautiful girl driving the black Ferrari. I got the idea they were together and about to leave. I explained to Lis that I had paid her debt, that we weren’t on the run anymore, and at first, she still insisted she go. She said she had to go to San Antonio. But I professed my love for her, and finally her friend told her “Oh Lis, look at you, you’re in love! You don’t have to come!”
And right then, Lis jumped from her Lamborghini and into my arms. I was her hero! I was over-whelmed by it all for a second. I had the girl and a Lamborghini, but right then, the goddamned thing drove off by itself. I still had Lis though, so fuck the Lamborghini. This is the dream as best I can remember. I’m fairly certain that was the point at which I woke up.
And now that I was awake, I knew things were different. I had been in love with Lis Silano in my dream, but what about now? What was that feeling? Holy shit. I’m still in love with Lis Silano. I was sure of it. I called her immediately but her answering machine picked up.
“Hey, you’ve reached Lis and Laura. Leave a message!”
“Lis, this is Jonathan Williamson, yeah, uh, you know, yeeeeeeaaah.”
I hung up.
My phone rang a few minutes later and I was hoping it would be Lis, because god damn it, I loved Lis Silano. I loved her like I was still in the dream. Hell, who knows the difference anyway?! It wasn’t Lis Silano. It was John Adams.
“Say playa, what’s up? Do you have plans for the night?”
“I don’t think so. It’s Tuesday right?”
“Yeah man, it’s Tuesday. Some of us are going up to Michael’s, you know, that strip club? You down hustla? I know Jay, Ryan and Sean McManus are going.”
“It’s free?”
“Yeah. We’ve got passes.”
“Well shit, sure.”
“Ok, meet us in the lobby there at 7pm.”
Now I had never been to Michaels, or any other strip club for that matter, but what the hell right? These kids went there because they had free passes for Tuesdays and from six to eight in the evening all drinks were a quarter. They called it ‘Preferred Customer Appreciation’ but these fellows weren’t preferred customers, they were customers who knew girls who worked there and had gotten a gigantic stack of preferred customer passes off of them.
I showered and shaved, dressed and did the things a man does before going to a strip club, or at least the things I would assume a man would do before going to a strip club since I had never been to a strip club and was hardly an expert on such things. I thought about ringing Lis Silano again but it hadn’t been too long, maybe an hour? Oh Christ that Lis Silano, what a beautiful girl! How I love that Lis Silano! Never mind I had only spoken with her maybe once in the past month or two and she lived something like 1300 miles away from me. Never mind all of that! I love Lis Silano! Does she still have a boyfriend? That bastard! I bet his band sucks! Oh well, never mind him too! When she learns I love her, she’ll have little need for the worthless bastard!
At six twenty-five I grabbed my keys and ran down the stairs. I found my fathers Cadillac Escalade blocked in my car. I went inside the house and told my father
“Either you’re going to the titty bar with me or you’re giving me your keys old man! You’ve got me blocked in!”
with a laugh he responded “you really going to a titty bar?”
“yeah! I am! My friends are drunks and I’m going to watch boobies while they drink!”
again he laughed but this time he threw me his keys. I was going to the strip club in a brand new Cadillac Escalade. Oh these strippers would love me! Forgive me Lis Silano!
I left the house and headed on my way. It wasn’t the best time of the day to head in the direction I had to go. The rush hour traffic hadn’t yet died, but I must persevere! There were my friends there and there were the topless women who couldn’t wait to see me in their club for the first time. The freeways weren’t so bad, even the parts of the freeways I anticipated traffic jams in I passed through with little trouble, but then I exited the freeway. It took me twenty minutes to get from the exit to the club, and the club was just a mile or so down the feeder road. That put me there at five after seven. I considered using the valet but then thought ‘I don’t suppose that’s a very good idea when you only have three dollars on you.’ It was hell parking there, but I finally found parking in the very back. The place was huge. I was really surprised how long of a walk it was around this building. The place was just gigantic. That Michael didn’t fuck around when he built buildings for naked women to dance in.
Inside I was surprised to see a gift shop where they sold lingerie and such. I didn’t go in, but nonetheless, it was strange. I didn’t see my friends in the lobby. They weren’t anywhere around. There was a well dressed middle aged black man sitting in a chair, two young Hispanic men with lots of jewelry, a fifty year old or so white man in a suit talking to a young black dancer. He even grabbed her hand and lifted it above her and apparently asked her to turn around. She slowly turned around and he nodded his approval. It was pretty fucking sleazy. There was a woman behind the counter I didn’t pay much attention to and then a second woman, this one with black hair, short bangs and a black dress standing to the right of the counter. I supposed she was some sort of hostess. I seated myself on the couch and looked out the doors, waiting for my friends to arrive. I must have sat there for ten minutes or so before I turned and happened to make eye contact with the woman with the black hair and short bangs. I quickly broke the eye contact and turned away. I ordinarily don’t mind making eye contact with women, but I think perhaps I was afraid I’d make a target of myself if I made eye contact with any of these women. I only had three dollars and I didn’t intend to part with those three dollars either god damn it! Just a second later I heard her voice, she had moved close behind me.
“Excuse me sir.” She had a soft voice.
I turned to face her. “Yes?”
“Are you waiting on someone?” she smiled.
“Yes, I am.” I graciously returned the smile.
“Might I ask who, sir?”
“John Adams.”
“Oh. I thought perhaps you were with Jay Merrits party?”
“Him too!” I smiled.
“Oh, come this way then.”
She pulled a pass and handed it to the woman behind the counter and said “He’s with Jay Merrit.”
Wow Jay. They really know you here. Good god man, how many times have you been here? I was impressed.
I wandered inside and checked the bar first, I figured I’d find Jay there but he was no where to be found so I made my way through the crowds until I heard my name and followed the voice. Jay was with a bunch of guys I had never met or seen before. They had names like ‘Big Time’ and ‘Diesel’. Big Time greatly resembled that old wrestling manager Mr. Fuji and Diesel stood six foot seven. There was another fellow, a white guy with slicked back brown hair, blue eyes and a white pin striped zoot suit. Good god Jay, what kind of double life do you lead?
The place was awful. It was purple and full of smoke, with gigantic television screens here and there that were tuned into baseball games. It also had a gigantic buffet and people through out the place were chewing on steaks and buffalo wings, including my new friend ‘Big Time’. I didn’t understand how people could eat food in such a place. It just seemed odd. I mean they’re all suffocating in smoke with bare asses waving in their face and their sucking on wings and t-bones with no concern for the grease and sauce running down their chin? I just couldn’t fathom it. It was disgusting. And the décor of the place! It was horrendous! The carpet was this awful pattern that I’ve seen in places like the astrodome skyboxes. And the similarities to the astrodome skyboxes didn’t stop there. The steps had these strips of lights, almost like Christmas lights, following their edge. I suppose these were intended to ensure the drunks see the stairs when they’re stumbling about in the dark of the club, but they were horrible nonetheless. And everything was purple, maroon, black, gray or red. It was awful. Awful I tell you. Then with out warning, a thought crept into my mind. “Wait, I’m surrounded by naked women and I’m occupying my thoughts with how awful the décor is. Am I gay?”. I decided I wasn’t. I was just a man of taste! And it didn’t hurt that my mother was an interior designer! I bet I had been in the room five minutes before I even got around to the women. It was a pretty even mix of white, black, and Hispanic women. There were a few Asian women too. Most of them seemed kind of thick to me, they had wide hips, thick thighs, and slightly sagging bellies. And the tattoos these women had! They all had the most dreadful tattoos. I don’t much care for tattoos in the first place, but I’ve gotten to where I can overlook a tasteful tattoo here and there. These women all had tattoos in the same places. They were either on the lower back, the right ankle, or right above the bikini line, right there over their bush. And it went with out saying that if they had the bikini line tattoo it was always on the left side! There was the occasional woman with one some place like her ass or her bicep, but they mostly had them on their lower back, their ankle or over the bikini line. And the tattoos were almost all predictable and tasteless. Butterflies, faeries, the playboy bunny, tigers, tribal designs, they were all equally awful. And to think, this was considered a classy strip club.
Some of the women didn’t have very attractive faces either. I suppose I just wasn’t real impressed in general, and I think I was glad. I watched these women rubbing their tits on the faces of these dirty bastards and I thought ‘Good lord! I don’t think I could ever date a dancer! How can they do that? Aren’t they sickened by these repulsive fucks?’ I was glad I didn’t find these women attractive because I’d never want to date a woman with such a job. Never mind I had a newfound respect for their profession as it seemed like hard work to me. It was as though they were getting a physical from 50 dirty-minded doctors all day long. I had to have a camera shoved up my ass at the doctors once and it was one of the most awful experiences of my life. These dirty doctor fucks all wanted to shove something of a substantial bit more girth up the ass of these women. Oh it was awful.
Then there was the music. Horrendous! It was music that left a person with less of a soul for having heard it. It was mostly from the 80’s. Occasionally there was some sort of techno or house, or a recent R&B hit that Timberland or P Diddy produced, but it was mostly all 80’s music. And that isn’t to say I think all 80’s music is bad, but this was bad. I don’t know if anybody really thinks that Buster Poindexters ‘Hot Hot Hot’ is actually a hot song in which they would like to see naked women shake their money makers to, but I certainly don’t. I always imagined the dancers picked their own music, but it became evident these women didn’t. They danced in pairs though, and maybe they didn’t let them pick the music since they were dancing in pairs and only one could pick. Either way, I soon came to feel that if I were to go to this club regularly, then through the process of conditioning and learned association I would be horrified and rendered impotent in the presence of a naked woman, because eventually, the sight alone would make me think of really awful music, and I can’t be expected to be aroused when ZZ Tops ‘Legs’ is playing in my head.
And I suppose my few hours at Michaels were like that, all smoke, awful music and bad tattoos. Some of the women really had beautiful bodies, and I liked the way some of them danced, but the whole setting was just so foul to me. I couldn’t get excited. Jay and I cracked a few jokes here and there and laughed some. There was one moment in which a stripper approached Jay and I to try and flirt her way into our wallets and ended up telling me off because she claimed I rolled my eyes at her. Maybe I did. I’m not sure. It was funny though. She told me I looked like one of the Beatles. Ray she said. I said “Oh yeah, Ray, I think he played the bass.” That was pretty funny.
Then the worst came. I had seen this one stripper and decided she was by far the most hideous of them all. Her eyes were sunken, her nose was crooked, her cheeks were caved and scarred from acne and her hair looked wet with hair products. When I felt a hand run through my hair and turned to see it was her looking me right in the eyes, I was horrified! Quickly I turned my glance toward the empty chair in front of me, but then she sat down in it. I turned to look at the stage behind me and keep my gaze averted from her, but out of the corner of my right eye I could still see the silver of her little dress sitting there in that chair. I could feel her eyes on me. After a while she got up and started to walk past me in the direction I was facing, so I quickly glanced back in the direction she had been sitting in. Jay, Big Time, Diesel and the rest of the boys got a good laugh out of that episode.
A bit after that I left. The entire time I was there I hadn’t thought about Lis Silano, because even the thought of her was too good for a place like that. I decided when I got home I would call her though, and I did that.
“Hello?”
“Hey Lis.”
“Two times in one day? Is this my lucky day?”
“Yeah it is Lis, you’ve got to talk to me tonight, because the thing is I had this dream and you were in it.”
“was I naked?” she interrupted.
“No, you weren’t naked. I don’t think we had sex, but we did spoon all night in it.”
“aww. That’s cute.” She was half way patronizing me and halfway serious. I kind of liked that about her.
“No but listen Lis, you’ve got to talk to me tonight because the thing is, I was in love with you in my dream. I mean completely and totally in love with you, and when I woke up, I realized I still was, and I still am! Hey! Stop laughing! This is serious! I am in love with you Lis!”
“You’ve always loved me, Jonathan.” It was the same half patronizing half serious tone, but I could tell she was really enjoying this.
“Well, yes, I’ve loved you, girl, but I’ve never been IN love with you until today. Today I am in love with you.”
“Oh Jonathan, you’re cute but I’m cooking some food hun, can I call you when I’m done?”
“yeah, sure, but seriously, you better call me, because I probably won’t be in love with you tomorrow and you’ll want to milk this for all it is worth!”
“soy milk?” she laughed. I’m vegan.
So I went ahead and fed myself because I was starving as well. Then I checked my email. There wasn’t anything too interesting. I read a couple chapters of a book. Still, my phone wasn’t ringing. So I called her back.
“You didn’t call me yet.”
“Yeah, I was going to but I have to do this thing for my class with Laura. Will you still be in love with me in an hour?”
“Yeah, I think.”
She laughed.
“Hey Jonathan, if you’re so in love with me, how come you’re not on your way to Pittsburgh? It would only take what? A day and a half?”
“Well you didn’t ask me to.”
“Come to Pittsburgh, Jonathan!”
“Well wait, let’s be logical about this! I’d have to sleep at some point, or even if I didn’t, I’d be exhausted when I got there and I’d have to sleep. Then when I woke up I wouldn’t be in love with you anymore.”
“Oh god boy, once you’re here with me you wouldn’t be able to stop being in love with me.”
“I don’t know about that Lis! I don’t know!”
“Oh boy, I’ve got to go do this thing with Laura. I’ll call you in an hour.”
I sat there for a while. I looked at the book but I didn’t want to read it. I looked at the television but I didn’t want to turn it on. I grabbed the cordless phone, walked around my apartment turning out all of the lights and I crawled into my bed again. I couldn’t really sleep, I just lay there. I started to doze off at one point but then there was this insect buzzing at my ear. I kept swatting him away but the bastard was toying with me. I started having these ideas that the little fucker wanted to crawl into my ear and lay eggs and that really freaked me out. My phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey Jonathan, it’s Kathryn! I met a Texan the other day and he had the funniest accent ever and I wanted to tell you…”
“god damn it Kathryn, you’re not Lis! I thought you were going to be Lis but instead you’re just a lousy Canuck!”
“Who is Lis? What kind of white trash name is that?”
“It’s not white trash! It’s Italian! Her name is Lis Silano! Can Italians be white trash? I’m pretty sure they have to be wops or dagos, not white trash.”
“Lis? That means lily, that’s so white trash. And what’s with this Lis girl anyway?”
“I’m in love with her Kathryn!”
“What? You’re breaking my heart Jonathan! Why must you hurt me?” that Kathryn is one facetious bitch.
“Girl, I don’t mean to hurt you, but today my heart belongs to another.” I played along.
“Today? What do you mean today?”
“I mean today Kathryn! I love her today but I probably won’t love her tomorrow. See, I had this dream….”
She thought the dream was pretty funny. She said “You’re mad, Jonathan! You’re absolutely mad!” and then I saw the clock. It was three o’clock in the morning! Lis had told me she’d call me back maybe four hours ago.
“I’ve got to go Kathryn, I’ll call you back.”
When Lis answered the phone I knew right away she was asleep. It might have been the raspy sleepy voice that tipped me off.
“Hello?”
“Lis! You said you’d call me back! You didn’t call me back, that shit is fucked up, girl!”
“I’ll call you tomorrow! I’ve got class at eight in the morning! I’ve got to wake up in three hours!”
“But you said you’d call me back and you didn’t, and tomorrow I won’t be in love with you!”
“How are you not going to be in love with me tomorrow?”
“Well I wasn’t in love with you yesterday Lis!”
“I’ll call you tomorrow!” she said again, this time a bit annoyed.
I laughed a bit wildly and hung up on her. I dialed up Kathryn.
“Hello?”
“Hey Kathryn, that dumb bitch was asleep. She said she’d call me tomorrow.”
“What? But you’re not going to be in love with her tomorrow.”
“That’s what I said, but she said I would. I told her that it was fucked up she didn’t call me back and…”
“oh Jonathan, you’re going to sound desperate!” she interrupted.
“But I WAS in love Kathryn! I was desperate!”
she laughed “Well I’m glad you’re over her now, Romeo.”
“Yeah, so she asked how I wouldn’t be in love with her tomorrow and I said ‘well I wasn’t in love with you yesterday!’ then I laughed at her and hung up on her.”
“You’re a maniac and a homo, Williamson, but I’ve got to go to sleep too.”
“Goodnight Kathryn.”
“Goodnight homo.”
Lis Silano, you missed out. I probably would have made all sorts of love sick and foolish statements. You could have quoted me for all of eternity. I would have written and recited ridiculously love sick poetry for you and I think you’d have loved it all. You’d have laughed hysterically and you’d have loved me too, but you fucked up, girl, and I’m not in love with you anymore.
I must have been dreaming I was fat, because when I woke up, I was convinced I had somehow become one fat son of a bitch over night. I stood up and examined my near naked body in the bathroom mirror. I wasn't fat. I was glad about that, but just the same I thought to myself 'maybe I should exercise today just to be safe.' I remembered I bought some running shoes a while back that I had only bothered using twice. The first time I had went walking with my father one afternoon. The second time, I had decided at three o'clock in the morning that I wanted to go running, except I'm not a very fit person, so it was more like running for a half a block then walking a couple blocks, running another half a block and on and on. It was strange running around in the neighborhood at three in the morning. I didn't see anybody at all except for a homeless man sleeping at this World War 2 monument. I almost ran over him. It scared the shit out of me, because he was black, or maybe not because he was black, but because I didn’t see him until the very last second. But he was indeed black. When I saw him I jumped back a few steps and I started to run on, but then I thought 'Hey, that guy wasn't dead was he?' so I walked back to check and make sure he was breathing. He seemed to be breathing fine as best as I could tell from five or six feet away. So I went back to alternately running and walking through my neighborhood. Anyway, I have these running shoes and I decided I would put on this t-shirt and these jogging pants that aren’t really jogging pants. They're actually pajama pants but they're as close as I have to jogging pants. Then I would put on my running shoes and head out the door and on my way to my parents house.
It didn't take long to get to their house since it's ten steps or so away from the garage my apartment sits upon. When I walked in I was surprised to find my father sitting on the couch, watching television with his dog.
"What ya doing home at noon, old man?"
"Oh I'm not feelin' too well so I've got a doctors appointment at two."
He didn't look all that sick and that's kind of strange, because that man will work through anything, but I didn't question it further. I ran up stairs and found my way to this closet they have. It's a gigantic closet and it has a treadmill inside it. I didn't know how to work that contraption but my mother heard me making a racket in there and she came in and showed me how. She talked about the speeds and how she warms up at 3.5 miles an hour, then once she is warmed up, she turns up the speed to an even 5 miles an hour. She said I wouldn't want to start out on such a high setting, that I should start at 3 miles an hour, then once I am warmed up I can move up to 4ish miles an hour to start.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
I began at 3 miles an hour. I had twenty minutes of this. That’s nothing. Maybe I’d work up to 5 miles an hour too.
“No wonder you warm up at 3.5 miles an hour! You walk faster than this when you go shopping!”
I was watching television as I walked. It was an old cartoon with Sylvester the cat I hadn’t seen since I was a kid. I only vaguely recalled the plot but it didn’t take long to see where the story was going. There was a panther that had escaped from the zoo. The bulldog with the little terrier that followed him around ended up chasing Sylvester into an alley, and every time he would run into the stack of boxes and garbage in the alley, he’d get his ass handed to him by the Panther who was hidden there. After a bit, Sylvester gets to thinking he’s doing the ass kicking and he chases the bulldog back out of the alley where the bulldog is telling the terrier what a killer that cat is. The terrier looks at Sylvester completely baffled, grabs him by the tail and spins him around a few times and launches him back into the alley. The bulldog would then be baffled, regain his courage, stomp back into the alley and the entire process would repeat. Before I knew it five minutes had passed and I upped the speed to 3.5 miles an hour. It was faster than I thought it would be, but despite that, at the ten-minute mark I decided to move up to 4 miles an hour. Instantly, my calves started burning. I went back to 3.5 miles and managed to finish the 20 minutes. The bulldog was chasing the terrier around calling him a hero. I couldn’t believe I used to laugh at that crap. My calves felt really tight as I was stumbling back out into the hallway.
“Did you cool down?” my mother asked as I began stumbling down the stairs.
“You didn’t tell me I had to cool down, woman!”
“Oh, well you’re supposed to do at least a few minutes of walking at about 2 miles an hour to cool down. You better stretch.”
I stretched in a ridiculously exaggerated manner and left.
I think I had been awake all but maybe an hour and a half, but after eating a sandwich, I couldn’t think of much I wanted to do. I didn’t feel like leaving the house. I looked at a book I have been reading and I couldn’t manage to make myself pick it up. Television seemed out of the question. My bed seemed the only logical solution. I turned my ceiling fan on high, crawled into bed, pulled the covers up to my chin and wrapped my limbs around a couple extra pillows and went to sleep.
My dream was strange. I can’t remember all of it, just assorted pieces. But as best as I can recollect, I was in love with Lis Silano and she was here, or maybe I was in Pittsburgh, but regardless, we were together. I remember we had just fallen in love and we spent the night sharing a bed. There wasn’t anything really physical, we just held each other all night. The next day, when we awoke, I knew we were on the run. Lis had gotten herself into some trouble. She had stolen something from some sort of an organization. I knew I had to pay her debts. I was deeply in love with that girl of mine and I was going to resolve this issue regardless of the costs, regardless of the risk of my own personal safety! We couldn’t live our lives together on the run! It must be done! So I went to see some woman. She began talking about how Lis had stolen ‘it’ from a child. Now I wasn’t sure at first, but I began to think ‘it’ was some sort of model racecar she had stolen. This woman made this out to be a matter of great importance. She kept speaking about how they were a non-profit organization and these racecars were of dire importance to these children. She pointed to a little black girl who was crying and explained she was crying because Lis had stolen her racecar. I told her I was sure that it was a misunderstanding and that Lis would gladly return the racecar, but in the interest of an expedient resolution I would gladly pay for the stolen racecar. She told me the racecar was worth thirty-five dollars. Thirty-five dollars?!?! That’s all? I was a bit surprised. Surely we weren’t on the run over a thirty-five dollar racecar? I handed the woman a one hundred dollar bill and told her to consider the change a donation to her organization. She was grateful and said all was forgotten. I was really excited about returning to Lis and explaining to her that we didn’t have anything left to worry about. Her dept had been paid and I had paid it. I was going to be her hero! Lis was going to fall even deeper in love with me. But when I got back to where we were hiding out, I found her in the racecar. The fucking thing was a bright red Lamborghini! She was in the street revving the engine beside a black Ferrari. There was another beautiful girl driving the black Ferrari. I got the idea they were together and about to leave. I explained to Lis that I had paid her debt, that we weren’t on the run anymore, and at first, she still insisted she go. She said she had to go to San Antonio. But I professed my love for her, and finally her friend told her “Oh Lis, look at you, you’re in love! You don’t have to come!”
And right then, Lis jumped from her Lamborghini and into my arms. I was her hero! I was over-whelmed by it all for a second. I had the girl and a Lamborghini, but right then, the goddamned thing drove off by itself. I still had Lis though, so fuck the Lamborghini. This is the dream as best I can remember. I’m fairly certain that was the point at which I woke up.
And now that I was awake, I knew things were different. I had been in love with Lis Silano in my dream, but what about now? What was that feeling? Holy shit. I’m still in love with Lis Silano. I was sure of it. I called her immediately but her answering machine picked up.
“Hey, you’ve reached Lis and Laura. Leave a message!”
“Lis, this is Jonathan Williamson, yeah, uh, you know, yeeeeeeaaah.”
I hung up.
My phone rang a few minutes later and I was hoping it would be Lis, because god damn it, I loved Lis Silano. I loved her like I was still in the dream. Hell, who knows the difference anyway?! It wasn’t Lis Silano. It was John Adams.
“Say playa, what’s up? Do you have plans for the night?”
“I don’t think so. It’s Tuesday right?”
“Yeah man, it’s Tuesday. Some of us are going up to Michael’s, you know, that strip club? You down hustla? I know Jay, Ryan and Sean McManus are going.”
“It’s free?”
“Yeah. We’ve got passes.”
“Well shit, sure.”
“Ok, meet us in the lobby there at 7pm.”
Now I had never been to Michaels, or any other strip club for that matter, but what the hell right? These kids went there because they had free passes for Tuesdays and from six to eight in the evening all drinks were a quarter. They called it ‘Preferred Customer Appreciation’ but these fellows weren’t preferred customers, they were customers who knew girls who worked there and had gotten a gigantic stack of preferred customer passes off of them.
I showered and shaved, dressed and did the things a man does before going to a strip club, or at least the things I would assume a man would do before going to a strip club since I had never been to a strip club and was hardly an expert on such things. I thought about ringing Lis Silano again but it hadn’t been too long, maybe an hour? Oh Christ that Lis Silano, what a beautiful girl! How I love that Lis Silano! Never mind I had only spoken with her maybe once in the past month or two and she lived something like 1300 miles away from me. Never mind all of that! I love Lis Silano! Does she still have a boyfriend? That bastard! I bet his band sucks! Oh well, never mind him too! When she learns I love her, she’ll have little need for the worthless bastard!
At six twenty-five I grabbed my keys and ran down the stairs. I found my fathers Cadillac Escalade blocked in my car. I went inside the house and told my father
“Either you’re going to the titty bar with me or you’re giving me your keys old man! You’ve got me blocked in!”
with a laugh he responded “you really going to a titty bar?”
“yeah! I am! My friends are drunks and I’m going to watch boobies while they drink!”
again he laughed but this time he threw me his keys. I was going to the strip club in a brand new Cadillac Escalade. Oh these strippers would love me! Forgive me Lis Silano!
I left the house and headed on my way. It wasn’t the best time of the day to head in the direction I had to go. The rush hour traffic hadn’t yet died, but I must persevere! There were my friends there and there were the topless women who couldn’t wait to see me in their club for the first time. The freeways weren’t so bad, even the parts of the freeways I anticipated traffic jams in I passed through with little trouble, but then I exited the freeway. It took me twenty minutes to get from the exit to the club, and the club was just a mile or so down the feeder road. That put me there at five after seven. I considered using the valet but then thought ‘I don’t suppose that’s a very good idea when you only have three dollars on you.’ It was hell parking there, but I finally found parking in the very back. The place was huge. I was really surprised how long of a walk it was around this building. The place was just gigantic. That Michael didn’t fuck around when he built buildings for naked women to dance in.
Inside I was surprised to see a gift shop where they sold lingerie and such. I didn’t go in, but nonetheless, it was strange. I didn’t see my friends in the lobby. They weren’t anywhere around. There was a well dressed middle aged black man sitting in a chair, two young Hispanic men with lots of jewelry, a fifty year old or so white man in a suit talking to a young black dancer. He even grabbed her hand and lifted it above her and apparently asked her to turn around. She slowly turned around and he nodded his approval. It was pretty fucking sleazy. There was a woman behind the counter I didn’t pay much attention to and then a second woman, this one with black hair, short bangs and a black dress standing to the right of the counter. I supposed she was some sort of hostess. I seated myself on the couch and looked out the doors, waiting for my friends to arrive. I must have sat there for ten minutes or so before I turned and happened to make eye contact with the woman with the black hair and short bangs. I quickly broke the eye contact and turned away. I ordinarily don’t mind making eye contact with women, but I think perhaps I was afraid I’d make a target of myself if I made eye contact with any of these women. I only had three dollars and I didn’t intend to part with those three dollars either god damn it! Just a second later I heard her voice, she had moved close behind me.
“Excuse me sir.” She had a soft voice.
I turned to face her. “Yes?”
“Are you waiting on someone?” she smiled.
“Yes, I am.” I graciously returned the smile.
“Might I ask who, sir?”
“John Adams.”
“Oh. I thought perhaps you were with Jay Merrits party?”
“Him too!” I smiled.
“Oh, come this way then.”
She pulled a pass and handed it to the woman behind the counter and said “He’s with Jay Merrit.”
Wow Jay. They really know you here. Good god man, how many times have you been here? I was impressed.
I wandered inside and checked the bar first, I figured I’d find Jay there but he was no where to be found so I made my way through the crowds until I heard my name and followed the voice. Jay was with a bunch of guys I had never met or seen before. They had names like ‘Big Time’ and ‘Diesel’. Big Time greatly resembled that old wrestling manager Mr. Fuji and Diesel stood six foot seven. There was another fellow, a white guy with slicked back brown hair, blue eyes and a white pin striped zoot suit. Good god Jay, what kind of double life do you lead?
The place was awful. It was purple and full of smoke, with gigantic television screens here and there that were tuned into baseball games. It also had a gigantic buffet and people through out the place were chewing on steaks and buffalo wings, including my new friend ‘Big Time’. I didn’t understand how people could eat food in such a place. It just seemed odd. I mean they’re all suffocating in smoke with bare asses waving in their face and their sucking on wings and t-bones with no concern for the grease and sauce running down their chin? I just couldn’t fathom it. It was disgusting. And the décor of the place! It was horrendous! The carpet was this awful pattern that I’ve seen in places like the astrodome skyboxes. And the similarities to the astrodome skyboxes didn’t stop there. The steps had these strips of lights, almost like Christmas lights, following their edge. I suppose these were intended to ensure the drunks see the stairs when they’re stumbling about in the dark of the club, but they were horrible nonetheless. And everything was purple, maroon, black, gray or red. It was awful. Awful I tell you. Then with out warning, a thought crept into my mind. “Wait, I’m surrounded by naked women and I’m occupying my thoughts with how awful the décor is. Am I gay?”. I decided I wasn’t. I was just a man of taste! And it didn’t hurt that my mother was an interior designer! I bet I had been in the room five minutes before I even got around to the women. It was a pretty even mix of white, black, and Hispanic women. There were a few Asian women too. Most of them seemed kind of thick to me, they had wide hips, thick thighs, and slightly sagging bellies. And the tattoos these women had! They all had the most dreadful tattoos. I don’t much care for tattoos in the first place, but I’ve gotten to where I can overlook a tasteful tattoo here and there. These women all had tattoos in the same places. They were either on the lower back, the right ankle, or right above the bikini line, right there over their bush. And it went with out saying that if they had the bikini line tattoo it was always on the left side! There was the occasional woman with one some place like her ass or her bicep, but they mostly had them on their lower back, their ankle or over the bikini line. And the tattoos were almost all predictable and tasteless. Butterflies, faeries, the playboy bunny, tigers, tribal designs, they were all equally awful. And to think, this was considered a classy strip club.
Some of the women didn’t have very attractive faces either. I suppose I just wasn’t real impressed in general, and I think I was glad. I watched these women rubbing their tits on the faces of these dirty bastards and I thought ‘Good lord! I don’t think I could ever date a dancer! How can they do that? Aren’t they sickened by these repulsive fucks?’ I was glad I didn’t find these women attractive because I’d never want to date a woman with such a job. Never mind I had a newfound respect for their profession as it seemed like hard work to me. It was as though they were getting a physical from 50 dirty-minded doctors all day long. I had to have a camera shoved up my ass at the doctors once and it was one of the most awful experiences of my life. These dirty doctor fucks all wanted to shove something of a substantial bit more girth up the ass of these women. Oh it was awful.
Then there was the music. Horrendous! It was music that left a person with less of a soul for having heard it. It was mostly from the 80’s. Occasionally there was some sort of techno or house, or a recent R&B hit that Timberland or P Diddy produced, but it was mostly all 80’s music. And that isn’t to say I think all 80’s music is bad, but this was bad. I don’t know if anybody really thinks that Buster Poindexters ‘Hot Hot Hot’ is actually a hot song in which they would like to see naked women shake their money makers to, but I certainly don’t. I always imagined the dancers picked their own music, but it became evident these women didn’t. They danced in pairs though, and maybe they didn’t let them pick the music since they were dancing in pairs and only one could pick. Either way, I soon came to feel that if I were to go to this club regularly, then through the process of conditioning and learned association I would be horrified and rendered impotent in the presence of a naked woman, because eventually, the sight alone would make me think of really awful music, and I can’t be expected to be aroused when ZZ Tops ‘Legs’ is playing in my head.
And I suppose my few hours at Michaels were like that, all smoke, awful music and bad tattoos. Some of the women really had beautiful bodies, and I liked the way some of them danced, but the whole setting was just so foul to me. I couldn’t get excited. Jay and I cracked a few jokes here and there and laughed some. There was one moment in which a stripper approached Jay and I to try and flirt her way into our wallets and ended up telling me off because she claimed I rolled my eyes at her. Maybe I did. I’m not sure. It was funny though. She told me I looked like one of the Beatles. Ray she said. I said “Oh yeah, Ray, I think he played the bass.” That was pretty funny.
Then the worst came. I had seen this one stripper and decided she was by far the most hideous of them all. Her eyes were sunken, her nose was crooked, her cheeks were caved and scarred from acne and her hair looked wet with hair products. When I felt a hand run through my hair and turned to see it was her looking me right in the eyes, I was horrified! Quickly I turned my glance toward the empty chair in front of me, but then she sat down in it. I turned to look at the stage behind me and keep my gaze averted from her, but out of the corner of my right eye I could still see the silver of her little dress sitting there in that chair. I could feel her eyes on me. After a while she got up and started to walk past me in the direction I was facing, so I quickly glanced back in the direction she had been sitting in. Jay, Big Time, Diesel and the rest of the boys got a good laugh out of that episode.
A bit after that I left. The entire time I was there I hadn’t thought about Lis Silano, because even the thought of her was too good for a place like that. I decided when I got home I would call her though, and I did that.
“Hello?”
“Hey Lis.”
“Two times in one day? Is this my lucky day?”
“Yeah it is Lis, you’ve got to talk to me tonight, because the thing is I had this dream and you were in it.”
“was I naked?” she interrupted.
“No, you weren’t naked. I don’t think we had sex, but we did spoon all night in it.”
“aww. That’s cute.” She was half way patronizing me and halfway serious. I kind of liked that about her.
“No but listen Lis, you’ve got to talk to me tonight because the thing is, I was in love with you in my dream. I mean completely and totally in love with you, and when I woke up, I realized I still was, and I still am! Hey! Stop laughing! This is serious! I am in love with you Lis!”
“You’ve always loved me, Jonathan.” It was the same half patronizing half serious tone, but I could tell she was really enjoying this.
“Well, yes, I’ve loved you, girl, but I’ve never been IN love with you until today. Today I am in love with you.”
“Oh Jonathan, you’re cute but I’m cooking some food hun, can I call you when I’m done?”
“yeah, sure, but seriously, you better call me, because I probably won’t be in love with you tomorrow and you’ll want to milk this for all it is worth!”
“soy milk?” she laughed. I’m vegan.
So I went ahead and fed myself because I was starving as well. Then I checked my email. There wasn’t anything too interesting. I read a couple chapters of a book. Still, my phone wasn’t ringing. So I called her back.
“You didn’t call me yet.”
“Yeah, I was going to but I have to do this thing for my class with Laura. Will you still be in love with me in an hour?”
“Yeah, I think.”
She laughed.
“Hey Jonathan, if you’re so in love with me, how come you’re not on your way to Pittsburgh? It would only take what? A day and a half?”
“Well you didn’t ask me to.”
“Come to Pittsburgh, Jonathan!”
“Well wait, let’s be logical about this! I’d have to sleep at some point, or even if I didn’t, I’d be exhausted when I got there and I’d have to sleep. Then when I woke up I wouldn’t be in love with you anymore.”
“Oh god boy, once you’re here with me you wouldn’t be able to stop being in love with me.”
“I don’t know about that Lis! I don’t know!”
“Oh boy, I’ve got to go do this thing with Laura. I’ll call you in an hour.”
I sat there for a while. I looked at the book but I didn’t want to read it. I looked at the television but I didn’t want to turn it on. I grabbed the cordless phone, walked around my apartment turning out all of the lights and I crawled into my bed again. I couldn’t really sleep, I just lay there. I started to doze off at one point but then there was this insect buzzing at my ear. I kept swatting him away but the bastard was toying with me. I started having these ideas that the little fucker wanted to crawl into my ear and lay eggs and that really freaked me out. My phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey Jonathan, it’s Kathryn! I met a Texan the other day and he had the funniest accent ever and I wanted to tell you…”
“god damn it Kathryn, you’re not Lis! I thought you were going to be Lis but instead you’re just a lousy Canuck!”
“Who is Lis? What kind of white trash name is that?”
“It’s not white trash! It’s Italian! Her name is Lis Silano! Can Italians be white trash? I’m pretty sure they have to be wops or dagos, not white trash.”
“Lis? That means lily, that’s so white trash. And what’s with this Lis girl anyway?”
“I’m in love with her Kathryn!”
“What? You’re breaking my heart Jonathan! Why must you hurt me?” that Kathryn is one facetious bitch.
“Girl, I don’t mean to hurt you, but today my heart belongs to another.” I played along.
“Today? What do you mean today?”
“I mean today Kathryn! I love her today but I probably won’t love her tomorrow. See, I had this dream….”
She thought the dream was pretty funny. She said “You’re mad, Jonathan! You’re absolutely mad!” and then I saw the clock. It was three o’clock in the morning! Lis had told me she’d call me back maybe four hours ago.
“I’ve got to go Kathryn, I’ll call you back.”
When Lis answered the phone I knew right away she was asleep. It might have been the raspy sleepy voice that tipped me off.
“Hello?”
“Lis! You said you’d call me back! You didn’t call me back, that shit is fucked up, girl!”
“I’ll call you tomorrow! I’ve got class at eight in the morning! I’ve got to wake up in three hours!”
“But you said you’d call me back and you didn’t, and tomorrow I won’t be in love with you!”
“How are you not going to be in love with me tomorrow?”
“Well I wasn’t in love with you yesterday Lis!”
“I’ll call you tomorrow!” she said again, this time a bit annoyed.
I laughed a bit wildly and hung up on her. I dialed up Kathryn.
“Hello?”
“Hey Kathryn, that dumb bitch was asleep. She said she’d call me tomorrow.”
“What? But you’re not going to be in love with her tomorrow.”
“That’s what I said, but she said I would. I told her that it was fucked up she didn’t call me back and…”
“oh Jonathan, you’re going to sound desperate!” she interrupted.
“But I WAS in love Kathryn! I was desperate!”
she laughed “Well I’m glad you’re over her now, Romeo.”
“Yeah, so she asked how I wouldn’t be in love with her tomorrow and I said ‘well I wasn’t in love with you yesterday!’ then I laughed at her and hung up on her.”
“You’re a maniac and a homo, Williamson, but I’ve got to go to sleep too.”
“Goodnight Kathryn.”
“Goodnight homo.”
Lis Silano, you missed out. I probably would have made all sorts of love sick and foolish statements. You could have quoted me for all of eternity. I would have written and recited ridiculously love sick poetry for you and I think you’d have loved it all. You’d have laughed hysterically and you’d have loved me too, but you fucked up, girl, and I’m not in love with you anymore.