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kingofabsolutedegeneracy-blog · 6 years

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An old piece by 3am High School me

It was a late night like any other. Of course you couldn’t care less that it was the… What is it now? Is it the third year or the fourth year of this? Who cares, it’s just as miserable as day one was. Tonight was at least how you liked it. Serene. Cloudless. Full moon out. Mid-Winter’s chill about, just after a heavy downpour earlier in the day. Still, there was little to be happy for. After all, the last girl just left a week ago.

Oh well, you tried like you did with every girl. At least you gave it your best. After all, what girl doesn’t like a man who has no larger-than-life aspirations but no motivation? Who doesn’t go head over heels for someone who has the attitude and the patience of a spoiled child? Who needs them anyway; wastes of money, time and emotion. Checking the time, you realize you’ve got about an hour before you can sleep. Still, being up and wandering about at two in the morning isn’t what most consider healthy. Who cares, you live differently from everyone else. After all, living alone isn’t so bad. The solitude and the peace can heal anything.

Solitude. Just as you’ve always really dreamt. That was the dream, wasn’t it? Right?

To hell with it, everything is irksome and a giant pain to deal with. At least being alone isn’t so bad.

Christ, lost again.

Lost in thought again.

Walking this late has got to stop. But, you can’t help it.

At least you can’t be told you went the wrong way because of bad instructions. You’ve always been really bad at following those anyway. Were you? If memory serves even remotely correct, you used to be praised for being so obedient and following rules to the letter. Was it in high, no it was. Maybe it wasn’t in middle. No, it was definitely back in your days of elementary.

Man, elementary. It seems so long ago. Eons ago now. Nothing more than a mix of feeling happy for a lot and crying for a bad scrape on the knee. Thinking about now, it’s almost incomprehensible how younger you, and maybe the correct question here is if, would deal with the feelings you toil with now.

Christ, lost again.

Lost in thought again.

Oh well, at least it’s a distraction. Those are usually fun.

That’s when you arrive, your favorite bar. The place is small, kinda cramped but still quiet and great service. Stepping in, the staff greets you like family. The owner looks a bit older. But you’ve frequented this place for near a decade. Or was it five years? I guess you learn what a home can be when…

Home.

I want to go Home.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Its only Stacy.

“You seem lost again. Want the usual guidance?”

“Sure.” The only thing you can muster up about now.

“You look so bummed. I’m sure the next one will be the right one.”

Man, she can read me.

“Maybe.” you manage to just gruff out.

Staring at the TVs, you see late night programming. What a pile of crap. It’s almost as useless as I, wait. The doc told me to not think that way. Maybe TV isn’t what I need.

Checking the patrons for lack of a better stimuli, you see the same old crowd. That old guy who looks homeless, the two girls who had too much and called a Taxi. Even that one older woman who seems to never leave. But there’s a new face in the crowd tonight.

She’s a real beauty. But, we don’t need more heartache. Best to just look away.

“Here you are, two orders of draft Bud and two dozen medium wings.”

Man, Stacy really chirps at all hours.

“Thanks a lot.” You try to give a slight smile. Positive you just look like a freak.

“By the way, don’t worry about paying. Moe said this one is free.”

“Tell him tanks a bunch.” Good thing too, you forgot your wallet again.

Moe really has been there for quite a bit. The really ugly break-up a year ago that nearly got you sued, bailing you out for public indecency when you drank to push out your sorrows and that one time at the park. You can’t help but remember with a stupid smirk about when he got you home when you were asleep on the bench.

You wave to him and he grins at you, the old man really has acted like a father.

Anyway, you hurry up and try to get back home. Looking at the clock, it’s close to half past 3. Better grab what sleep you can. After all, since you got fired yesterday, it’s gonna be sometime before you get a new job. At least you have enough to live like you are now for the next few months.

After a short shower, warm but not hot, you hop into the coziest pajamas and into bed quickly. Looking up at the ceiling, you think about things. Everything.

You stop because that growing pain in your chest is coming back and you can hear yourself whimpering again. No, you don’t cry. You’re a man. Men don’t…

On rare occasions they may but…

You roll over and let out what feels like all your tears but the pain grows stronger and you feel weaker and more powerless as time passes.

At some point you fell asleep. Evident by the fact that you didn’t try to do it again. It’s now nine.

Time to start yet another day.

Another gray day in a gray life.

A gray life that has more black than anything.

But you’re alive and that’s all that matters. Right?

#text #shortstory #looselybased #writing

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castanews530-blog · 6 years

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One of the first short stories I’ve written...

Does The Coyote Ever Win?

You are like the Sun

With your smile being its rays

Beaming brightly and like a

Thompson Submachine Gun

It rips through my dark clouds

Of sadness and

Makes all my days.

I hope this isn't cheesy

Like a Packer fan at Lambeau field

But I really like you

And I’d like to be your boyfriend.

I gave this poem to my high school crush. The paper, once crisp and fresh from the binder, was crinkled and stained from age. The message however, was still fresh from the heart.

“Hey man, I think I like like a girl,” I confessed to my buddy, Tico, the day before I gave it to her. The lunch bell had rung and people squeezed out of classrooms towards the cafeteria or little food carts that were stationed just outside the cafeteria. People were with their cliques. Jocks in their lettermans howling in laughter over some penis joke, preppy girls covering their mouths in shock over some gossip, and geeks having a debate over whether Batman or Superman was better. We were under a shade of a tree, waiting for the rest of our friends to meet us there. He was tall, yet lanky. He carried a constant look of ogle on his face, as he checked out every female that walked by him. I was a little shorter than him, lean and handsome, although at the time nobody could convince me of this.

He dropped that look and his eyes widened.

“Really?! Who is it,” he demanded to know.

Having never shown much interest in women, he constantly made jokes about my sexual orientation. I was not surprised he was surprised.

“Well,” I slowly started to sputter, “I-I kinda like Lyd-Lydia.”

“Her!?” he squawked with his jaw agape in confusion. “You’re joking, right?”

“What wrong with her?”

“Everything bro. She doesn’t have an ass or tits.”

“That’s not all a woman is.”

“Yeah it is.”

“Ok, maybe to you, but there’s more to a woman than that. There’s their personality, their character, and how they really make you feel.”

A voluptuous girl passed by and Tico gave her an eyeful. I did too.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I know how she makes me feel and it isn’t hard to figure out even though it’s literally hard.”

“Really? Is that all you think about, asses? Have you ever seen Forrest Gump?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, what Forrest and Jenny had, I want that. That bond they had together. Did you not see the beautiful moments they had together?”

“No, I fell asleep halfway through. It was a hella long movie.”

I gave up. Nobody seemed to be interested in deeper connections to each other. Especially him. The only connection he was concerned about was the one that happens between genitals of the opposite sex.

“Then what’s so special about her? Is she easy?”

“I don’t want her for that. She’s an amazing person, always smiling and bringing cheer to everyone when she high-fives everyone. I just want her to be with me like Jenny was to Forrest.”

“Hey, didn’t the Jenny girl avoid him for most of the movie?”

“I thought you fell asleep through the movie!”

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Nevermind that. I have been trying to figure out how to get her to like me.”

“Just ask her out.”

I was stunned. It had been on my mind for awhile.

“I can’t just ask her out. I haven't even talked to her besides saying hi and goodbye. I gotta talk to her first, right?”

“Just ask her out.”

“That’s it? That’s all I have to do? She’ll be my girlfriend if I just ask her?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“I don’t know, don’t I have to do something cool, like be good at some sport or be really smart that I can teach the class, or if ninjas came to kidnap her, I’d use some hidden kung fu ability in me to kick their asses, save her and ride off into the sunset?”

“You don’t even have a car.”

“That’s not the point, but still. All I have to do is ask her?”

“Hmm, if you don’t believe me then why don’t you write her a love letter.”

“Really? That works?”

“Yeah, I think it will. Girls like honesty or some shit like that.”

It started to make sense. It was perfect. I was a pretty good writer, even though I had never written any kind of poem before. If I could masterfully use my words to show her my feelings, then she’ll be by my side the moment she finished reading my passionate and romantic poem.

Later that evening I immediately went to my room. At my desk, littered with old papers and doodles, I searched my bag for a pen and some binder paper. The old stuff on my desk was cleared and expecting to start pumping out my amorous epic, I stared into the paper.

My little brother then knocked on the door.

“Hey, that movie you like is on TNT!” he informed me.

“Which one?” I responded still staring at the paper.

‘The one about a guy named Harry and how he met Sally.” He answered.

“Oh, I think I’m gonna skip it for tonight.”

“Really?” he voiced with an air of bewilderment, “You always watch those cheesy movies! Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m ok. Leave me alone.”

“Can I play the PS3 then?”

“Go for it.”

Suddenly animated, he ran to the living room.

Finally I convinced myself that whatever comes from my mind will be honest and true so without fear, I wrote nonstop for 30 minutes.

After 30 minutes, I told myself: She is gonna love it.

“Bro, she is gonna hate it .” I said the next day.

“Nah, man she’ll like it.” He was reading it and giggling.

“Then why are you laughing bro?”

“Nah man, you’re good. It’s fine. Make sure you give it to her.”

Lydia hasn't come in yet and I had to make a move. I made up my mind.

“Bro I don't think I can do this.” I said as I started to put the letter away in my backpack. Tico then abruptly reached in and snatched it.

“ I’ll do it.” he said as he rushed to Lydia’s desk.

“No! Wait!”

He left it on her her desk and when he got back to his respective seat, he gave me a double thumbs up.

“Hey!!!!” a shrill and feminine voice squealed out. Lydia had walked in. My face suddenly filled with the cold air of anxiety.

With black hair that she kept in a bun, she had soft hazel eyes, with a tranquil look. But her mouth was brimming with a smile as she greeted everyone joyfully. Her petite skinny frame walked around the class, making her rounds to say hi to everyone. She approached me and with that clarion voice, semi screamed out, “Wiley!!! What’s up!!!?”

“Um…. hi.” I managed to mumble out as I timidly smiled back. She smiled back and walked on to her desk while saluting the classmates on her way there.

As Lydia walked over to her desk, my face went from cold to hot as it sweltered up. I foresaw all the scnenarios that could occur. Maybe she will read it and smile at me across the room. Maybe she’ll read it and look at it in disgust. Maybe some sweet savior was gonna pull the fire alarm as a prank and as everyone would leave the room, I would snatch the letter and rip it up.

Lydia spotted the letter when she got to her desk. She put down her bags, picked up the letter and started reading it as she sat down with a serious look on her face. I could not bear to look at her reaction, so I just scoped on the teacher for the rest of class, never looking at Lydia’s direction.

When class finally ended, I was already out the door and free from a blundering disaster.

“Hey, Wiley!” a shrill voice resonated in the hall before students started to fill it. .

I stopped and looked back. Lydia stood there with the poem in her hand. She had a stoic stare.

“Hey, uh, Lydia.” I stammered out. I slowly walked towards her. I briefly looked at her eyes then away in angst towards the floor. Then I looked at her again.

“I read your letter,” she told me, looking at my eyes. Her face was not enthusiastic nor was it disgusted.

“Oh yeah? Um,....what… what did y-y-you think?” My heart was beating as if it was trying to get out of my chest like some Alien creature. That would have been preferable.

She took her time to find her words and with a fresh smile, she chimed, “Well, Wiley it was very nice!”

I saw hope.

“But I don’t really think of you that way. I really appreciate the letter, though.”

The hope was stomped on.. I was done. I had to transfer to another school. Another county. Another state. Mars was a possibility.

“Oh yeah, I mean,” I jittered, “that’s fine. I-I-I….,” Words could not leave my mouth. Visibly trembling, I looked up and took a breath.

“ ...had to try, you know,” I blabbered off as I turned and ran away. I could never face her again.

I spent the next 3 years in self-imposed exile. I spent my lunches in the band room where it was desolate of people, save for a few people practicing their instruments. I never talked to Tico again, since he was responsible suggesting and giving that poem to Lydia. I didn’t hang out with anyone. My evenings were filled with homework and early 90’s Tom Hanks romcoms. I still yearned for my Jenny, my someone to meet on top of the Empire State Building. But the fear of bungling another attempt to talk to a girl crippled me, until prom season came around.

Everywhere I went on campus, someone was asking someone else to prom. Some guy was able to get an extra large pizza with PROM? written on it with pepperoni. Another guy wrote it on his car. One guy simply got on top of the roof and screamed it out. I admired all these efforts in envy. I had to get a prom date. So as I went through one school day, I scouted for a girl I can like.

In one of my classes, I was sitting in my desk, browsing at all the females in my class. I was too afraid to make any move.

Suddenly a tap on the shoulder broke my concentration, and I turned around.

“Can I like, borrow a piece of paper?” said Liz, my classmate behind me. She had black hair with streaks of blonde. Chubby yet buxom, I found her sexually attractive, but she put on an overkill of make up. Her lips were bright red and her blush made her skin look like pastel. She also had a reputation of being easy, as I remember Tico telling me three years ago. But I decided to take the plunge.

“Um… yeah… sure, hold on, let me get it,” I suddenly said, “So… how’s your day going?”

“OK.” she guilelessly replied.

“That’s good.” I responded. “It’s pretty hot out there, huh.”

“I'm actually cold.”

“Oh really?” I nodded my head in search of a different topic, “You know… I’m wondering if you would… you know, like come with me….. um I mean…. if you would like to…. you know… get…. some… coffee?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I was astonished. I had finally gotten a girl to go get coffee with me!

“Ok, great…. um let’s go to that one Starbucks near the grocery store?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s cool.” she answered back.

“Alright then, see you then.” and turned back around. The class was barely starting.

Later that evening, I was waiting at a table outside the Starbucks with two frappucinos. I had asked her if she liked frappucinos, and she simply replied with “yea”. A car pulled up and Liz exited it. She saw me and walked towards me.

“Hi” she said.

“Uh, hey,” I replied awkwardly at first, then quickly flashing the smile I had practiced in front of a mirror the night before. She smiled back and sat down. On a roll here.

“So I got you a caramel frappucino,” I told her, pushing the beverage towards her on the table, “I didn’t know if you liked whipped cream or not, but I thought that if you didn’t want whipped cream you could have mine which I ordered without whipped cream. Is that cool?”

“I don’t care.” she quaintly said.

“Oh ok, then I’ll take the whipped cream one. Unless you want it I mean, it’s totally cool if you want it.”

“It’s ok”

“Ok, then it’s settled.” and I took a sip of the beverage, while looking away from Liz.

“So what are you doing after you graduate?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, I see. Do you like, want to go somewhere?”

“Not really.”

“Mmm, that’s cool. Say have you got a prom date?”

“No.”

“Oh that’s interesting.”

“Yeah.”

I took another sip of my drink, and kept sipping for 10 minutes in silence.

“So I have to go,” Liz then said, “My mom only brought me here so she can shop and she’s done.”

“Oh that’s cool,” I said, then as she was about to get off from her seat, I hurriedly added in, “but-but hey maybe we could a movie on Friday?”

“Sure.”

“Great, I’ll see you then.”

Friday finally came, and I had decided to ask Liz to prom. Originally, I was going to get the movie theater to print out a ticket that said, Will you be my prom date? Unfortunately the employees could not figure out how to work the machine so I decided to draw my own ticket and have her find it somehow.

With the fake movie ticket on hand, I waited for Liz outside the theater. A drove up and Liz exited it. Said our hi’s and went to the box office to get our tickets.

Once inside the auditorium, we sat on the right side with all the lover seats of two. We were armed with popcorn and drinks. I was still trying to figure out how to indirectly give her the ticket. She was constantly grabbing and eating her popcorn. So when she was not looking, I slipped the ticket in the popcorn bucket and stared at the movie screen. I surveilled her from the side of my vision, waiting for her to find the ticket, smile and say yes.

Thirty minutes have passed and she was still munching away at her popcorn, but she was starting to slow down. I was starting to get restless.

Suddenly, I hear a gasp and then a puking sound. I looked over and she was choking. I got up and I tried to stand her up. She stood up but fell to the littered ground, gasping for any air. I tried to do what I thought was CPR. I put my hands on her chest and she looked at me like a pervert. I pushed down and she moved my hands away in suffering anger. Finally someone else jumped in and did it correctly. She coughed out a piece of paper. It was my movie ticket.

At the beginning of the last week of school, for some reason I decided to get there really early. At five in the morning I set off to school, with the sun barely beginning to rise. This caused the sky to look purplish, as if night and day were mixed together. I walked through the chill suburb, and crossed the main streets that were starting to grow alive with people going to their jobs, truckers leaving after shipping in the night and bums starting to wake up from the bus benches.

The school was empty at this hour. The sun faced the bench and glimmers of it were slowly hit it. I took off my glasses and put them on my lap. A pretty girl then approached me, and asked me for directions to a classroom. I promptly got up and showed her where it was. She thanked me and I went back to the bench, proud of the good deed.

I sat down and took a book from my backpack. Then realized that I did not have my glasses. I inspected the bench and they were not there. I figured that I must have accidently put them in my locker, so I went over to my locker and tossed it around in search of my glasses. I gave up and went back to the bench blind.

I noticed a person sitting on the bench as I walked over. It appeared to be a girl. I could not recognize her because of my Velma vision. Part of me wanted to go get my stuff and go somewhere else. But determined to learn how to talk to girls once and for all, I decided to engage her. I will make friends with this girl. It was my mission and I was going to accomplish it. It was Lydia.

“Lydia?” I astoundedly asked. Oh shit. Abort! Abort!!!! My mind rang out.

“Wiley!” she shrilled in delight.

“What are you doing here so early?” I asked.

“Well, my mom has work early in the morning and she’s using my car so I have to come to school at this hour.”

I chuckled, “This is funny. I never expected to see you at this hour.I never expected to see you at all!”

“Yeah, me neither!” she said. “Where are your glasses?”

“Oh, yeah, funny story. I think I lost them helping out a cute girl.” I said with a sly grin on my face.

Immediately she burst out laughing.

“That’s so funny. You are so clumsy Wiley.”

“I guess I am,” I chuckled.

As the sun began to rise and fully beam the bench as we engaged in deep conversation about what we had been up to.

We went to a Starbucks later that day. It was close to a supermarket, and the shoppers coming out were interesting looking characters. We made up stories about them. Middle aged guy with a shaggy beard was probably in Vietnam and if he talked to you, he would show you all his gun permits, tell you what he thought about Woodstock and go on a profanity laced rant about it even though you did not ask for it. A big lady wearing a nightgown with a cart full of cat litter. Most likely a crazy cat lady. Dude wearing a tight dress shirt, untucked, with slim jeans and dark shades even though it wasn’t even sunny, so he was most likely a axe spraying, womanizing douche. It beat looking at clouds.

She talked about how she loved golf, how she loved being a babysitter, and how close she was to her former middle school teachers. She was going to attend the same college as one of them.

I told her about my desires to help people too. How I wanted to be a lawyer and hopefully run for office. I admitted that I had my anxiety but I was willing to work on it.

For lunch the next day, we went to McDonalds. Lydia had her car so we would go through the drive thru. I’d order two McChickens and she would order a Happy Meal.

But we would also order twenty piece McNuggets for us both and eat them while she drove. I was the sauce man, holding the sauce for us both, while she, with one hand on the wheel, recklessly drove as she dipped and ate her nuggets. We were the fast food Bonnie and Clyde.

On a different night, we were eating at Panera Bread and I was enjoying my cheddar broccoli soup so much that I took the unfinished bowl with me without thinking when we left.

“Oh my god, Wiley!” She told me when we got in the car. “Did you just steal a bowl?”

“Oh Jesus, I did,” I said finally realizing what I did. “But it was so good!”

She stared at me with serious look, “Oh Wiley! You are going to get me in trouble! I am your accomplice!”

Oh no, not again. This can’t be happening again.

She then broke her stare and busted out in laughter, “Oh, Wiley you are so clumsy and badass!”

Oh thank you, sweet baby Jesus.

“Yeah, so that means you are just as bad ass as me since you are my accomplice!” I responded back, with a brimming smile.

“ Um, excuse me? I was already badass, ok?” he mockingly said, “Have you seen Pulp Fiction?”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty awesome movie!”

“Well, you know what Samuel Jackson has inscribed on his wallet?”

“Yeah, bad ass motherfucker,” I laughed.

“That is what we are! Bad ass motherfuckers! We are BAMFs!”

I burst out laughing because I could not believe that such words would come out of someone so nice and respectful.

High school ended and we were both shipping out of town for college. I was bound for UCLA, while she was heading off to an all girl school in Missouri. On the last day before she was to leave, we hung out at the Starbucks.

When she drove into my driveway to drop me off, I looked at her with a serious look.

“You know, this last week with you was awesome, especially because of you.” I said. “You are really the best friend anyone can have. You cheer me up with that smile, and make me laugh.”

She looked at me, and then smiled with tears starting to develop.

“Wiley, I want you to know that you are an awesome guy, and you have been so important in my life, but I am just not about dating or things like that. And also we are young, and heading off in different directions. We have to expand our horizons and meet new people.”

I looked her and smiled, with tears starting to develop in my own eyes. “Ok, I understand. I really appreciate you being my BAMF.”

And with that we hugged tightly in the car.

“I gotta give it to you though,” she said after letting go of me. “That was better than that letter.”

“Hey, now, you told me you liked it!” I joked. And with that, we said our goodbyes and off she was to Missouri.

I found the poem in her belongings up in the attic. She had the Panera bowl. Pictures of us that she took. A wave of reminiscence washed through me. After sixty years of being together, 50 of those years married and with four kids, I realized I didn’t find my Jenny. Jenny was hardly together with Forrest. I found my Lydia. I may not have had the smoothest record with women, but nobody ever takes the same exact path to get to where they are going or to get what they want. Every path is unique, just like my Lydia.

I left the poem next to her when she was buried. Although I may be sad now, I know I’ll see her again. She came back into my life that last week of school. She came back after college to be with me and get married. By now, I know it’s not a coincidence.

#lovestory #looselybased

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