Wednesday, July 17, 2002

jack daniels (1866)

People, I don't know exactly what I just saw, but let me tell you, it was not good. Or it was good, for them, but just sort of weird for me to see. I just went downstairs to get the last Newcastle in the fridge, spritely left my room more than a little tipsey in my silly yellow pj shorts. I encountered a roadblock though at the end of my hall, a girl and a guy sitting on the stairs, doing that end of date flirting thing. I had taken my contacts out but it was very obviously Mariah, the just moved-in resident Pin-Up Girl and some cute, blonde boy. I said sorry like the guilty drunk I am. Sorry for drinking, for being drunk, for still being awake, for interuppting your moment, for making you move so I could get by on the stairs, sorry for being gay in these bright yellow shorts, sorry for living in your house.

They kindly let me by on the stairs, the guy saying "Hey Charlie," meaning that he must live here, but I could not tell exactly who it was since the hall was dark and I didn't have my contacts in, but I am pretty sure it was Soccer Boy, and way to go Soccer Boy, scoring with the hot chick. I opened the fridge, dug around for the remaining beer, and thought of how cute, how good, hot hot it was that Soccer Boy was getting some play (or is most likely going to get some). With a can opener, I popped the top of the bottle, and resolved to go up the front staircase so that I would not have to again interrupt them. I went up the stairs into the living room, seeing that the tv was on, an undiscernible blinking image, but the lights were off and there was no sound on the tv. Once in the living room, I walked by the tv, towards the other staircase, saw a naked couple having sex on the tv, some good old fashioned softcore, and then I saw some male figure on the black leather couch as I kept on walking. He seemed to be quickly fiddling in the area around his crotch, making me think that he had been masturbating, making me even more worried, or even more guilt-ridden about disturbing people. Remember, I didn't have my contacts in, so I have no idea who this boy was, or if he was in fact even masturbating. I kept on walking towards the stairs, why the hell were they so far away tonight, and he made some comment, He, this annonymous male figure on the couch, He, the male gaze, said, "Ha, It's a good one," perhaps trying to make the somewhat awkward situation lighter, and I laughed, chuckled lightly cause that's what I do when I don't know what to say, and I finally reached those stairs. And now here I am. I have to pee like a motherfucking racehorse because this is my fifth beer I am now drinking, but I don't want to go to the bathroom since it is right next to the stairs that Mariah and (possibly) Soccer Boy are sitting on, flirting, maybe even making out on now, and that would be weird.

So, I will hold it for as long as I can and tell you something scary that happened to me today. Pass me the flashlight, gather round, and hear this scary story of Scary Cub Foods. So, this afternoon, I went to the store to procure some beer, the beer which I am now finishing up. And by "procure," I am referring to the five-fingered discount variety. I stuffed a six pack into my bag, and while I was in the liquor section, I also stuffed a bottle of Jack Daniels into my bag. I grabbed a couple more essentials as I walked around the store, and then feeling bold, brazen, and seeing lots of open aisles right by the door, I decided that I wasn't even going to purchase anything, that I was just going to casually walk out the door, suspicions be damned. I was almost out the door, a few feet before it, walking through the sensors that are in every grocery store but which never go off unless you steal vitamins or body care products or something. But no, today was different. Today, they went off for me. BEEP BEEP BEEP PLEASE RETURN TO THE CASHIER AND FINISH PAYING FOR YOUR PURCHASES BEEP BEEP BEEP. My heart pace went from normal rhythm to something close to that "Bombs Over Baghdad" beat - ridiculously fast, so fast that you don't know what to do to it, not exactly sure how to move. And I froze for a brief second.

But just a brief one, mind you.

I soon gathered my senses, being motivated by a terrifying Fear, and walked as fast as my little feet could carry me, fearing for my life, for being arrested for a fucking bottle of Jack, for having to pay fines I don't have money to pay for, and I was close to running speed. And I reached the second electronic sliding door. Since I approached it so fast, it did not open immediatly - the motion detector takes a little while and all. But, I was not realizing this, I was sure that the door didn't open if you set off the sensors and that I was trapped here to die, that soon I would be approaced by security, I was ready to cry, I was about to push my way through the door, to bang on them, demanding my freedom, my life, my innocence, my youth, panicing, becoming anxious, when finally that stupid door opened, and at this point terrified, I hightailed it, running, not caring if it made me suspicious, if it made me culpable - I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, past the clicking tongue and mm-mm-what's-wrong-with-him head shakes of some middle-aged woman walking to her car. I ran to the car even though no one was following me, no one had come to chase me, hopped into the car, did not even bother to remove my bag from my back, and fumbled with the keys. Fumbled because my hands were shaking because I was so nervous, so nervous and so shaky that I had to stab at the ignition about five times before I finally got the key into it. I quickly started the car, backed it out, put it in drive, and fucking drove like it was the end of the world.

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