love is a word
we could be kissing
and we could be making love
we could be having
the most amazing sex ever
but then what would happen?
we would have kissed
we would have fucked
but would we have shared anything?
my dad called me the other day to tell me that the last check i recieved from my former employer bounced. so yesterday, i picked up a bank statement and went up to pay the man a visit. and of course, an o g thug like me doesn't go anywhere without his posse.
andrew drove me to the c&g cleaners call center, where joe and i attemted to sell carpet cleaning services over the phone.
all of my former co-workers are on work release. they're convicts released from prison to work. they all turned their heads suscpiciously at andrew. for all they knew, he could have been my parole officer.
my old boss told me i could pick up my paycheck the following morning because he doesn't have the ability to sign checks. whatever.
i have yet to go pickup my paycheck. i'm not really hungover. i'm not really sick. i'm not really depressed. i'm not really anything at all.
last night, andrew brought over a girl he met online. she was a tiny little thing with long blonde hair and a big california-sized attitude. but she swears she grew up right here, in washington.
she told us that her last boyfriend's parents helped her co-sign for a car. and when they broke up, her ex stole her car. technicly, he didn't steal it because his name is on the title. but practicly, he did steal it because she made all the payments on it.
"where is his house?" andrew demanded.
and naturaly, i'm laughing. why should we trust her? some girl you meet on the internet last night and now she wants you to steal some car out of a guy's garage? it sounds like bullshit.
luckily, she didn't press the issue. otherwise, andrew would have done it.
at some point, becca came to hang out with joe. recently, becca and andrew broke up. hence, the internet date.
"is she comming up here?" andrew asked.
"no, she's waiting on the sidewalk," joe told him.
"good," he said. "i don't want to start unnescesary friction."
which was utter bullshit. it was such a pompus move, on his part, to assume emotional dysfunction on becca's behalf.
andrew admitted that becca was the most mature girl he's ever dated. every other girl has tried to screw him over since they broke up. but becca is different. the reason being, becca doesn't need anybody quite like andrew does.
all of this was infront of andrew's new potential, whatever her name was.
for late night dinner, we cooked up some chicken feduccini alfredo. it was beautiful. and we chased that with sweet white wine.
of course, i had to invite my internet friend over. whitney came at 1am and instantly, it became a party. we were driking shot after shot after shot and playing the music and dancing and smoking and everything was beautiful again.
andrew was not pleased because he was trying to squeeze some along time in with his newfound pussy. the two girls would run off and huddle in the bathroom like they were in high school again. i think i could have puked.
"your pussy is interfering with my pussy!" he said to me, "you need to get your pussy under control!"
we sat on the washing machine, right outside the bathroom door and stared at it until the girls came out.
"andrew," i told him. "this is as good as it gets, man. it won't get any better than this. right here, right now. and you just can't wait to move onto what comes next? thats bullshit, man. fucking bullshit."
but of course, it didn't take much longer for andrew to get his way. him and his pussy rode into the sunset and left whitney and me to fend for ourselves.
allen came and talked to us for quite a while. we talked about the usual duty to god, duty to country, duty to wife and all that stuff us crazy schitsophrenic ex-millitary types like to talk about.
he showed us a picture of his bride-to-be in the philipines. the new story is that he's moving to the philipines to get married and live for a while. until he has the money to bring the family back to the united states.
you wouldn't believe it if i told you, but allen is a brilliant man. he's just a little confused. you'd have to meet him first hand to witness his brand of brilliance.
i told allen that andrew and becca broke up.
allen told me something funny. he said "obviously sex isn't everything or those two would still be together." that's why he's brilliant.
"they're both too self-absorbed," i said. "but atleast becca isn't needy and absorbed."
whitney and i stayed up all night listening to records and we watched the sky fade from black to blue.
"when i was a kid, i used to try so hard to stay up all night just so i could see the sunrise," she told me. "and i'd feel like i accomplished something."
it's a special moment when two people are getting to know eachother like this. we're so deep in conversation, telling stories upon stories that we almost miss it. the daytime falls in thru the skylight.
"i don't feel that sense of accomplishment, anymore," she said. "and i miss it."
and i sighed.
"you are tired!" she said to me. "you need to go to sleep. insomnia is not for everybody."
and before long, she was gone.
edit:
i just got off with my dad. he told me that he got a gift certificate in the mail from jc penny so he buoght himself a shirt. he said that if i just dropped a card in the mail and told him to enjoy the shirt, we could call it even.
this is my dad's aproach to hollidays. for his birthday, i was able to buy him two brubeck cds. for christmas, he re-wrapped them and gave them to himself. i'm not sure who he's trying to fool.
i think this is why i have come to hate holidays. the aribitrary exchange of monitary items has left me feeling so strange. i'm not sure how i feel about it.
and we could be making love
we could be having
the most amazing sex ever
but then what would happen?
we would have kissed
we would have fucked
but would we have shared anything?
my dad called me the other day to tell me that the last check i recieved from my former employer bounced. so yesterday, i picked up a bank statement and went up to pay the man a visit. and of course, an o g thug like me doesn't go anywhere without his posse.
andrew drove me to the c&g cleaners call center, where joe and i attemted to sell carpet cleaning services over the phone.
all of my former co-workers are on work release. they're convicts released from prison to work. they all turned their heads suscpiciously at andrew. for all they knew, he could have been my parole officer.
my old boss told me i could pick up my paycheck the following morning because he doesn't have the ability to sign checks. whatever.
i have yet to go pickup my paycheck. i'm not really hungover. i'm not really sick. i'm not really depressed. i'm not really anything at all.
last night, andrew brought over a girl he met online. she was a tiny little thing with long blonde hair and a big california-sized attitude. but she swears she grew up right here, in washington.
she told us that her last boyfriend's parents helped her co-sign for a car. and when they broke up, her ex stole her car. technicly, he didn't steal it because his name is on the title. but practicly, he did steal it because she made all the payments on it.
"where is his house?" andrew demanded.
and naturaly, i'm laughing. why should we trust her? some girl you meet on the internet last night and now she wants you to steal some car out of a guy's garage? it sounds like bullshit.
luckily, she didn't press the issue. otherwise, andrew would have done it.
at some point, becca came to hang out with joe. recently, becca and andrew broke up. hence, the internet date.
"is she comming up here?" andrew asked.
"no, she's waiting on the sidewalk," joe told him.
"good," he said. "i don't want to start unnescesary friction."
which was utter bullshit. it was such a pompus move, on his part, to assume emotional dysfunction on becca's behalf.
andrew admitted that becca was the most mature girl he's ever dated. every other girl has tried to screw him over since they broke up. but becca is different. the reason being, becca doesn't need anybody quite like andrew does.
all of this was infront of andrew's new potential, whatever her name was.
for late night dinner, we cooked up some chicken feduccini alfredo. it was beautiful. and we chased that with sweet white wine.
of course, i had to invite my internet friend over. whitney came at 1am and instantly, it became a party. we were driking shot after shot after shot and playing the music and dancing and smoking and everything was beautiful again.
andrew was not pleased because he was trying to squeeze some along time in with his newfound pussy. the two girls would run off and huddle in the bathroom like they were in high school again. i think i could have puked.
"your pussy is interfering with my pussy!" he said to me, "you need to get your pussy under control!"
we sat on the washing machine, right outside the bathroom door and stared at it until the girls came out.
"andrew," i told him. "this is as good as it gets, man. it won't get any better than this. right here, right now. and you just can't wait to move onto what comes next? thats bullshit, man. fucking bullshit."
but of course, it didn't take much longer for andrew to get his way. him and his pussy rode into the sunset and left whitney and me to fend for ourselves.
allen came and talked to us for quite a while. we talked about the usual duty to god, duty to country, duty to wife and all that stuff us crazy schitsophrenic ex-millitary types like to talk about.
he showed us a picture of his bride-to-be in the philipines. the new story is that he's moving to the philipines to get married and live for a while. until he has the money to bring the family back to the united states.
you wouldn't believe it if i told you, but allen is a brilliant man. he's just a little confused. you'd have to meet him first hand to witness his brand of brilliance.
i told allen that andrew and becca broke up.
allen told me something funny. he said "obviously sex isn't everything or those two would still be together." that's why he's brilliant.
"they're both too self-absorbed," i said. "but atleast becca isn't needy and absorbed."
whitney and i stayed up all night listening to records and we watched the sky fade from black to blue.
"when i was a kid, i used to try so hard to stay up all night just so i could see the sunrise," she told me. "and i'd feel like i accomplished something."
it's a special moment when two people are getting to know eachother like this. we're so deep in conversation, telling stories upon stories that we almost miss it. the daytime falls in thru the skylight.
"i don't feel that sense of accomplishment, anymore," she said. "and i miss it."
and i sighed.
"you are tired!" she said to me. "you need to go to sleep. insomnia is not for everybody."
and before long, she was gone.
edit:
i just got off with my dad. he told me that he got a gift certificate in the mail from jc penny so he buoght himself a shirt. he said that if i just dropped a card in the mail and told him to enjoy the shirt, we could call it even.
this is my dad's aproach to hollidays. for his birthday, i was able to buy him two brubeck cds. for christmas, he re-wrapped them and gave them to himself. i'm not sure who he's trying to fool.
i think this is why i have come to hate holidays. the aribitrary exchange of monitary items has left me feeling so strange. i'm not sure how i feel about it.