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Vol. 2, Issue #4 March 16th - March 29th, 2007
No More Happy Endings Episode 4 - The Devil & Groomsman No. 5
She was gone, insane, and was seeing some fucking crooked-dicked retard. I mean, for fucks sake, if she left she could have left for someone up the scale, someone better than I, some smartshit old money chief resident at the place she worked, she could have done better by even going all out on some guy that looked like Dwayne Wade, some dark-skinned brother, even broke as hell. But what did she do? Well if I get too NON-fiction here I’ll be sued for slander. But let’s just say one thing and I’m gonna give it to you as a word of advice: If you cheat on your significant other/partner/husband/wife do not and I repeat DO NOT cheat with that old piece of ass you bitched about the first half of the relationship. Then, that makes you look plain stupid, obviously out of mental balance, which may be the only excuse you may have with everyone that thought that maybe you were doing something smart. But anyhow, I’m not gonna get preachy here. The heartbroken might lie there and cry, mourn, grieve, but a man, a real man, must rise and stand and walk and do what men do. Which is? Call his buddies. A man does this not just for himself and his state of mind, but he does this for other men, for boys, for Masculinity itself, beat that chest and holler, a statement for a world where John Wayne has been forgotten and James Dean portraits are on the purses of grandmothers and teenage girls alike. I grabbed my truck keys. Old faithful, who has been with me as my sidekick, trudging the road of happy destiny through thick and thin, through smoking and not smoking, binging and not binging, through the bitches and moans of not just one past girl, but a few. And though I may be awaiting my next heartbreak there’s something fucking poetic about a man and his 4x4. There’s where the story is. And as I cranked her over and drove away from my collapsing abode I was on a mission. I had been out of the game for oh so long and if there is something that I needed more than anything, it was to raise my crumpled self esteem and find my next meal, my next hostage, my next victim, my next reason for living. I needed some strange. She was some no named girl that smiled at me enough to make a difference. I brought her back to the house. My buddy, Groomsman No. 5 met us to start the party. We smoked and drank and the moment was just right. And before you know it Little Miss No Name asked us if we were going to start this threesome or what. And I sat there at my desk, drunk as shit as Groomsman No. 5 asked her if she was serious. The devil looked me in the eye and gave me that smile again and I watched her and my buddy go at it. He fumbled with her lips and her shirt. I stood and made my way past them and didn’t stop until I was on the front porch with the bottle in my hand, lit a cigarette sat down on the cold steps and wondered what the fuck had happened to my life. I wasn’t into it. Getting’ some just might have saved me but I wasn’t a complete moral degenerate. I couldn’t do it. I smoked my cigarette and made the decision that if I wasn’t getting any in my house then no one was getting any. I’d have to tell my friend to take it somewhere else. Even if it was a prick thing to do, he’d understand. He knew how broken I was. I had become the guy that everyone avoids. The shell of a man that lost it all and couldn’t stop being a pussy. I couldn’t keep it together. For fucks sake no matter what had happened I was still married. I walked back inside to tell them they had to go. He had her shirt off, was fumbling with her bra like some high school boy. She looked my way and smiled and the devil had me. Screw it. Groomsman No. 5 and I would bond in the most horrific and perverse way and my aggressions would find its form. I approached Little Miss No Name and took her hand and thank God, I was saved. For whatever she was on: booze, too much grass, a xanie bar or two, whatever the hell it was hit its peak. There was a Higher Intervention. She lost her balance. She turned green in between us. She dashed to the bathroom. Some say Sin is in the thought and not the action. Some say that it’s all Good versus Evil. I happen to disagree. I’m with Hesse, “Every sin already contains Grace within it.” No More Happy Endings Homepage ©2007 G. Smith |
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The winter was growing colder, but teasing. Bits of an almost autumn or an almost spring confused things a bit more. Partly cloudy days, but even still I knew it was winter. I was dying, broken, spiraling downward trying like hell to live it up.©2006-2007 NONCO Media, L.L.C.