This is a chapter from a novel that I am working on. This is fiction, do not get mad at me.
Two straights and two gays occupied the night of May 15th 2010. As we pioneered from destination to destination it seems the good times happen between the end points rather than at the destinations themselves. The night didn’t get too eventful until we all had perfectly measured and thought out proportions of liquor. Pints of Beer and good whiskey and other shitty whiskey burned down our throats and into our bellies, mixed with our stomach acid and entered our bloodstream and brains, we then transformed into the non shy versions of ourselves. We were dancing, myself with the idea that I looked like Michael Jackson in Thriller, but in reality if one were to subpoena the security tapes from the club I looked more like a half dead cat flopping about before it dies. In this context I am unsure what the abstract concept of what “me” means. At this point my sphere of dance included whoever was in that area encompassing me until I quit dancing. 1:45AM rang out like a church bell on a quiet terror ridden Israeli street. People frenzied to catch last call, some made it and some failed. Those that didn’t make it had a look on their face like a Palestinian kid who just realized throwing the rock at the tank did no damage. I failed and left with my collection of friends. Jason had a perfect chrome pen, so we naturally decided to start writing on things; other peoples real property. We wrote on it, and as soon as we did that property was purely and totally destroyed, it was no longer good. They would have to throw away the light pole or mailbox or trash can, maybe sell it to China, or possibly recycle it and turn it into a Kia Spectra in South Korea to be shipped back to the USA. But one thing that was proof positive was the pen turned anything you wrote on into garbage in a blink of an idea.
The two girls had a crush on each other so it seemed, but the brown haired girl, Jera with her pretty eyes and playful short hair was flirty in a kittenish fun way. We all walked down the street headed to destinations unknown to all of mankind. I heard the FBI has methods of calculating these destinations but I am pretty sure their algorithms would not have worked on us for we were unpredictable. We walked down a street as that was the natural way to go, we could have walked into peoples yards but that would not have accomplished anything. Unluckily I didn’t have my flask. Usually that is the post-last call savior. Not tonight. Tonight we had to forage for any drips of alcohol we could squeeze out of anyone or anything. A bottle of wine appeared magically, we all drank it. I stole a very long swig. I felt bad, but knew I had to otherwise I would probably not get another chance at a pull. It wasn’t a greedy swig, just a swig of opportunity. It must have been like being in a bread line during the great depression. Upon further examination it was EXACTLY that way. We found some drips of brandy and drank that after calculating the number of drips in the bottle and used calculus to figure out how much each person would drink. Now we were officially out of liquor, beer and wine.
I highly suspected Jeremy was on MDMA, as he was rolling sensually with Jera in Jessies bed. I tried not to look, but I couldn’t help to peak every now and then as it was right there unfolding in the light, and one couldn’t avoid to look as hard as they tried to because of the small nature of the space we were in. Jeremy and Jera playfully slithered around enjoying feeling each others bodies, they were seemingly on a thin line that if the play progressed over, might have ended up in a disaster of epic proportion. My judgment may have been off, for all I know anything could have happened. Jessie, the other girl, who seemed to really be into Jera looked longingly at the two wishing she was Jeremy at that point, but she knew it was her bed and therefore she would surely have a go at it come sleep time because if Jera didn’t sleep in the bed she would have to sleep on the floor or perhaps a dingy couch that would have swallowed her into a nightmare as she fell asleep. So by default she did indeed stay in that bed and avoided the nightmares.
Nipples were clamped, weird art was made and novels were written in every ones heads, novels that they will remember after the booze haze wears away but probably will never write out, as the night was average as many others and there is no need to write down about average nights.
Every ones spirits started to wane as the alcohol wore off and people could either not stand due to extreme intoxication or exhaustion. Jessie and I engaged in a conversation. I told her how I didn’t like this rich girl who acts like and probably is the devil or at the very least related to the devil. Everyone is entitled to have friends with whomever one wants but in a desperate act to try and explain to her my feelings about the situation I said “Just because Hitler likes you doesn’t mean you should like him back.” The statement made perfect sense in my head but I looked up and I saw the hurt in her eyes and realized that it is not of my business and abruptly dropped the conversation. But for the record and if any record takers are taking notes this should promptly and immediately be added to the “Book of records and other important numbers:” Record 344GH009H77: Do not talk about Brandy Ventura, girlfriend of James Peterson, Date: 5/15/2010. End Record.
The birds started to sing and Jeremy got the boot out of Jessies bed. It was Jessies turn to have her way with Jeras body and hopefully try and slide right through 1st or 2nd base or to perhaps gaze into each others eyes and wonder if they could possibly have a future together. Jeremy walked out of her room and dropped to the floor like a Viet Kong ambushed in the height of Nam. I assumed he would sleep there. I closed my eyes and felt hands go under my pants and onto my ass and then run their way up to my chest all underneath my underwear and on my bare skin. It felt good but knew those were not female hands, so instead of letting it progress into something unknown I pushed away his hands and closed my eyes. Hands again came so I once again pushed them away. He laid there next to me and I fell asleep. I am 99.98% sure he fell asleep and figured he was still next to Jeras pretty body and face, so I didn’t blame him for his sexual advances. I was just surprised that he couldn’t tell the difference between a man body and a petite female body. I laid there and asleep, no more infractions were had or I just slept well.