41
The DJ came back with his turntables.
“Look what I found.”
There were 5 hits of ecstasy hidden in a small compartment on the side of the turntables.
“I don’t even know how old these are. They could be from New Years.”
42
I had taken ecstasy a few times before, it was fun, sure, I had an idea of what it was, what it did to you, no big deal, how good everything felt to touch, smell, see, how excited it could make you, how innocent and natural and right everything was, even if you were naked and rolling around on the floor with a stranger…but for some reason, maybe it was a glitch in my reasoning, maybe a lack of foresight, maybe preoccupation (Who knows why? What?), I still didn’t figure on what would happen.
43
We were able to sell the turntables for $300. The girlfriend pawned a necklace that was given to her after graduating high school- that’s another $75. I made a phone call, put a few gallons of gas in the car, and drove to Queens.
44
Traffic. Lots of it. And the radio in the car had stopped working at some point. I sat there, sweating, thinking of speed, chain-smoking cigarettes, wondering what I was doing with myself (so much self-loathing,
so many weaknesses); I hadn’t picked up a pen or sat down at a computer since the creative writing program had ended. I hadn’t had an idea in my head outside of snort, screw, smoke, drink, snort, screw, again and again, over and over. I hadn’t slept more than 8 hours in the last 3 days. I looked at my hands on the steering wheel- shaky. I looked at my eyes in the rearview mirror- lost.
“Something’s gotta change. I’ll never…”
The few dreams that I did have I’d never follow through with. Not like this; sitting on the expressway with all this money in my pocket, money that I would exchange for even more instances of not typing when I should be typing, of not thinking when I should be thinking, of not living, breathing, experiencing the world around me in a such a way as to allow me to become a real, no shit, writer. Sure. The traffic broke up. I shot around a blue car, then a black one, got in the right lane, used the shoulder, hit the gas and made the exit to Main Street…screeching tires and all, oh John, such a
Man
of Movement.
(Me?)
There’s no doubt about it.
45
“You already went through that half huh?”
“Ah, it was a bunch of us.”
“Sure it was. What do you want today?”
“What can I get for 300?”
“I’ll make up a quarter for you.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Spot me a couple extra grams till the end of the week.”
“Can’t do it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I can’t do it.”
“Since when?”
“No credit for addicts.”
“Who the fuck’s an addict?”
46
He had filled his mouth with a few more gold caps. He smiled at me, that fucking prick. I had helped pay for that smile. The flash in his mouth; fed by the light taken out of my eyes. The hardness of his teeth; that comes from the resolve sucked out of my backbone. And the thing is, what struck me the hardest, what swung the most weight for me, was I had turned it all over, willingly, and even worse than that, I was ready to give more:
Take my light! Go ahead! Every bit of it!
Like the way I hold my head up? See that posture? Put something on the table and I’ll walk away hunched over.
Want all the thoughts banging around in my skull? Want my creativity? My drive? Go ahead! Make me an offer and I’ll jump up to be as devoid and lifeless as every other jackass coke fiend on the street. Go ahead!
47
I rolled a dollar bill and filled my nose while merging into the traffic on the expressway.
48
I stopped to pick up some more supplies before going back to the hotel.
Three 30-packs of Bud cans.
A carton of Reds.
Another box of those banana flavored condoms.
Then back in the car. I get to the hotel parking lot. I get to the room. I hear techno music blasting from behind the door. Under the techno music is another sound. I can’t make it out at first. Then I hear the DJ.
“As commanded by-”
“Ah!”
“the great”
“Yes!”
“spirit Phalleccio!”
I opened the door slowly, quietly. They had no idea I was in the room. The music was blasting. The DJ was naked, standing at the edge of the bed, his back to the door. The girlfriend was naked, her face sunk into the pillows, her ass pointed at the DJ.
“Forces of Prick grant me length!”
“Yes!”
“Forces of Prick grant me girth!”
“Yes!”
“Keepers of The Hump watch over my semen!”
“Oh yes!”
“Help me to fill her completely!”
“Fill me! Fill me!”
“Bless me with dexterity and stamina!”
“Please! Oh! Yes!”
He was calling upon Big Forces, the stickiest, wettest, and hottest of the Big Forces.
“Yes!”
I watched them in action without feel any anger, towards either of them. He had always been a half-of-a-friend, never anything more than that. She had become a bad habit that I was looking to break. The 3 of us were here out of Need. Our relationships and interactions were all based on Need. We spent time with each other because of Need, and each of us had something that could provide for the Need of the other two. The DJ usually had money. I had the connection to the man with a golden mouth. The girlfriend had a hole where you could bury your problems, frustrations and sleeplessness. For all of you that have never been here:
Welcome to the Land of Need!
49
“Oh Labbia of nether strength! Oh Rectilia! Oralia!
“Don’t stop! Please! Please!”
“Oh, all encompassing Vulvaina! Oh Fallopia! Oh great Uteri!”
He was fucking her
completely.
More than that, he was beast-fucking her- on all three levels: mentally, physically, spiritually. I hadn’t beast-fucked her like that since we first started dating, back when each stroke was fresh and new... The poor girl.
“Yes! God, yes!”
“Oh Clitora!”
She was probably in Need of it. He reached around her hip with his left hand and touched the button. She bit down on one of the pillows and the rhythm picked up.
“Oh Nippalia!”
“Mmmmm”
“Oh Cervexia!”
“Mmmmm”
“Pink goddesses, I beseech you, grant me the strength to flood this vessel!”
She tossed her head from side to side, the pillow still caught in her teeth. I saw him stick the pinky of his right hand into his mouth. When he pulled it out it was covered in saliva. He leaned back and slipped it into her ass. She bucked.
“Ah!”
The pillow flew out of her mouth as he got past the first knuckle.
“Oh! I’ve never. Don’t, ah!”
“All shall happen as the spirits of The Fuck will it!”
“Oh, oh, be, ah!”
I had never pulled that off before- not with her anyway- but I chalked it up to the ecstasy. I knew that they screwed around with each other. I knew that they tried to keep it a secret from me, that they wouldn’t run the risk of getting caught like this if it wasn’t for a certain catalyst, an undeniable push in a certain direction- the ecstasy.
I started gathering my clothes off the floor of the hotel room. As I was moving around the girlfriend must’ve felt my presence, or maybe I made a noise. She turned her head. Saw me.
50
“Oh! Ah! John, honey, this, oh, it isn’t.”
“Allow me to sow this virgin soil!”
“I don’t care.”
“But, ah, baby! We, it was just, we took-don’t be mad, please, oh!.”
“Bless this penetration!”
“I don’t care. I’m serious.”
“Oh, good, oh, you’re so under- ah! Why don’t you come here honey, I’ll make room.”
“Guide me as an extension of your own heavenly hard-on!”
I had gotten all my clothes into the duffel bag. I took out the coke and dumped a whole lot less than 2/3rds of it onto the coffee table. Suddenly I felt the air starting to shift and change in the hotel room. The hair on my arms and neck stood up. Everything became infused with a strange type of electricity. I smelled something like the Fourth of July mixed with pan-fried vaginal discharge. I looked towards the bed. Sparks were shooting out from the girlfriend’s ass and up towards the ceiling. The DJ would pull his dick out for the long stroke and it was like he dragged a string of fireworks out along with the dick.
(And little explosions
went off
with the crackle of black powder at her ass crack.)
