Take me home

Eight empty shot glasses lined up on the bar in a neat, little, obsessive-compulsive row. My mouth tastes like pennies and rusted fillings. I casually pick at the complimentary wooden bowl full of stale nuts halfheartedly trying to satiate the intense hunger that stings at my aching soul. It’s Karaoke night at the dive bar. Some old man sings John Denver’s “Country Roads.” I think about the city. I miss the East Coast.

I miss the way “life used to be.”

I really should be at home in bed but then what would be the point in that? I’d rather be here: lucid, dreaming, and awake, shooting away my sorrows. Listening to the sad tales around me. Joining in the mournful chorus of wailing ghosts.

A blonde, toothless whore named “Bonnie” sits next to me vying for my attention. She’s a former heroin addict with leathery skin. She’s a flitting shadow of her former self. Once upon a time, probably back in the heavy metal 80’s, she was a very beautiful woman. Time hasn’t been kind. 15 years, one ruptured silicon implant, numerous drug and alcohol addictions, and 5 kids later: she’s tore up. How does the phrase go?

"Ridden hard and put away wet.”

She’s telling me about her ex husband. He’s a biker. In fact, he’s a lieutenant and a hired gun for the outlaw motorcycle organization “the Banditos.” Why she’s telling me I have no idea. To impress me perhaps? I listen though. As long as she keeps buying me shots of Tequila and slipping me smokes I’ll continue to listen. Isn’t that all what we search for, someone who is willing to listen? Here and there I’ll throw in a lame quip or a stupid joke in between her stories of yesteryear. Her laugh is grating… like nails on a chalkboard. It’s the wheezing, silent laugh of chain smoking, trailer park royalty. I try not to look at her row of rotted gum.

I’ll probably go home with her tonight. Somehow I’m always able to find the beauty in any woman I meet. especially after 8 shots of Tequila and 4 beers. Her body isn’t too bad. I’ll satisfy her fantasy tonight. I’ll give her some company and pleasure. In return, she’ll provide me a fleeting, temporary escape quickly followed by shuddering, convulsive feelings of disgust and panic and then calm… as I pass out in her bed with my cock still buried deep inside her as we lay among a million stuffed animals alone in her double-wide.

I’ll be sure not to kiss her on the mouth.