We were all sitting around drinking, three of us anyway.
The stories were all random, none of us paying too much
attention to a topic, amusing ourselves for the most part.
“Jesus Penus! What a salty dog I have become! To think
I have all these place I have to go, so many things to
do!”
We laughed, “And then there is always the one who
throws himself across my path. What to do with him?”
That really sent us into a fit. “Hold on. A funny little story
about these architects, this one is hilarious! Getting
together somewhere in trance, they’ve planned it all out.
Who sleeps where, what kind of plants are to go in the
garden, which windows will open and how far. A great
group of guys! Love ’em.” We giggle and drink, “then come
all the motherfuckers. Those greasy little worms have
made their home once again inside my ballsack. Shucks.
This is not a sickness, or a spell, how well I know it.
Ii pick them out patiently, laying them on the bathroom
sink for inspection. I inspect them! My father finds me
like this all the time and we have a good laugh about it.
‘Lord have mercy!’ he says, and I keep grinning like a
mad cat whenever he says that.” What gives? Can I do this
or do I know this person? Well, sure. I never could stand
to see a grown man squirm, so I tell them what I know:
“All these really great men, really powerful men, great
politicos keep contacting me. It may sound queer, but
I’ve got pull. I’m young and all that, so… I’ve got
certain important men, Washington-types with serious phone
voices, can I do this or do I know this person? They’ve
got all these hokey ideas, mostly civic things, but I
tell them, “hey,” I say, “the secret of life is to have no
fear…” Oh yeah? Sure. Eventually the calls stopped coming.
Whatever, it’s like leading dogs around by their dicks.
Dick first, sure. Dirty sons-a-bitches. ha. ha. ha. And
they are rolling with that one. One of them gets up and
turns the radio on. He wants to dance, so he starts
dancing, making a fool for us, and we laugh when he
pretends he’s dancing with a girl. ” I am the Great
Compassionator! I wear a dress! I cuss! Yes, I say the
dirtiest things, I am a dog with shit for fur! I’m dancing
over your graves! I’m dancing without knowing!
A glass broke and beer spilled all over the floor, nobody
stopped to clean up the mess. We were all having too good
of a time. More drink, always more drink. I don’t know where
all the booze came from…
© 2002 Gordy Amede
