Saturday, June 19, 2004

I lose. But I win. But I lose.

Yesterday (Friday) was the day I was supposed to have Kelly over for drinking and hot-tubbing.

I thought it was a bit strange when the whole day went by without hearing from her: No e-mail, no call, nothing. But, I sure as SHIT wasn't calling her!

Lila's mom was off yesterday afternoon, and came and picked her up from work at 5:00. She lingered in my doorway for a long moment saying goodbye and telling me to have a good week on the road, trying to hide the fact that she was almost in tears.

I get home around 5:30 and fix myself a nice piece of fish on the grill. I clean up and read the paper, and when I finally look at the clock, it's 6:45. Shit! She was supposed to be here at 6!

Kelly's original idea was to go to the Copa at 7:00. Maybe she forgot we changed the plan? Or, maybe she was fucking with me again.

I hate being in this situation. If I call, I am an insecure little girl. If I don't call, I am putting her in the driver's seat. I like it much better when the girl calls me!

I decide to install a bathroom fan that I had been meaning to put in for awhile. What a pain! It takes me over an hour to install it and get cleaned up; I look at the clock again. 8:10.

Obviously, she isn't coming. And she isn't calling either. I still don't want to call her. Maybe, I could head over to the Copa and see if she's there. If she is, I can give her a piece of my mind. If not, maybe I can hook up with someone else!

So I get changed and head over to the Copa. I get rock-star parking (50 feet from the door), and the place is totally dead. It really doesn't get hopping over there until after 10, but to be this slow on a weekend night is strange.

There is a group of 5 or 6 girls by the bar, but I don't see Kelly.

I spy a girl all decked out in a black dress and high heels. I walk up to her. "Hi."

She turns around to look at me. She's about my age, short black hair, tiny little nose. She's not bad, but why the HELL is she so dressed up for a BAR?

"Hello," she says, in a dry monotone. I am reminded of Ben Stein in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off": "Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?"

"I'm Steve. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Caroline. I can't seem to get this friggin' bartender to help me."

I pull a $20 out and flag him down with it. He comes right over. I wink at Caroline.

"My friend here has been waiting for you forever," I say playfully. "She needs another Corona. And since she's been waiting so long, you don't expect her to pay for it, do you?"

"No, I expect YOU to pay!" the bartender says. Nice one!

"OK, fair enough. Get me a vodka tonic," I say.

"So, what do you do, Steve?" Caroline says. Hey, this might work out ok!

I feel a tickle on the back of my neck. WTF! Kelly does that!

I turn around. Kelly is there. "You are LATE!" she says, wide-eyed.

"LATE?! You were supposed to be at my house at 6!"

"I was? So what are you doing here, then?" she says.

"Looking for you."

"So, here I am. What's up?"

Ohhhh, no fuckin' way. It doesn't end here. She wanted to come here, I resisted, she gave in, then she came here anyway. It's TOTALLY friggin disrespectful.

"What's UP!? I was sitting home, waiting for you like a jackass," I say, winking.

"You were a jackass anyway," she says. "You didn't need me to stand you up for that."

"So you did stand me up, then."

"I told you I wanted to come here," she said, shrugging.

"But you agreed to go THERE!" Ok, I am turning into a girl. Wonder if I still have balls!

"True. Can I buy you a drink?"

"I think it's too late for that...I think you already missed the fuckin' boat."

"Are you gonna break my balls about this all night?"

"You have BALLS? Actually, that would explain a lot," I say.

She chuckles. "Fuck you," she says, and tilts her glass back. A piece of ice slides into her mouth.

"Anyway, I kind of just wanted to make sure you were still alive and ok, and since you appear to have a pulse, I guess I'll see you later," I say.

I get up to leave. She grabs my shirt and pulls me back down onto the bar stool. Now her face is right against mine, as if we were about to kiss. I can feel her hot breath on my mouth and nose.

"Do you think you can just........MANIPULATE me like that," she asks.

"Like WHAT?"

"'Not ten; nine-thirty!'" she says, mocking me. "'Not drinks; massages and hot tubs.' 'Don't send me flowers at work.' You're trying to PLAY me!"

I look at her face. Yeah, she's smiling. It's a big, happy, pretty smile. She looks like she just heard some good news. Kelly is better than anyone I know at covering up her emotions.

"You're the one who didn't show up," I shrug.

"Because YOU started it!"

"I can order you a beer to cry in, if you want."

"Fuck you."

"No, fuck YOU." Ok, is this about to get ugly??

"You don't like it when someone turns the tables on you. DO you?" she says. "DO YOU?"

"No, I don't like being lied to."

"About WHAT?! I TOLD you I was married!"

"But you didn't tell me you were still FUCKING him!!" I am starting to lose a bit of control here; I gotta keep cool.

"OH! And how many fucking airhead BIMBO's are YOU fucking right now?"

Oh, just one. Thanks for asking. It's kind of a slow month.

"One less than when I walked into this bar!" I shoot back.

"Good! Leave! Go back to your fucking little whores!" Heads around the bar are starting to turn.

"And YOU go back to your fucking whale-dicked husband!"

"ASSHOLE!"

"BITCH!"

I storm out.

I get on the highway, turn up the radio, and just start driving to blow off some steam. I take a deep breath, and my head clears a bit.

I think I just made a big mistake. I showed my emotions, which implies that I give a shit. I know she did too, but I am very hard on myself whenever I show any kind of vulnerability. One of my best assets is having grace under pressure and never overreacting.

I wonder if Kelly will consider that fight a "stalemate", or some kind of "victory", since she succeeded in getting under my skin.

One thing is for sure: There is a little too much drama there right now. I wonder if seeing Kelly anymore is a good idea.

I call Lila.

"Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy," she says. She is high. I can tell.

"What are you smokin?"

"Smoking? No! SNORTING!! I was a baaaaad girl. He he he he heeeeeeee"

"You did coke?"

"SEVEN lines. I am so fucking high, man. This shit is AWESOME! I wish you would come over here and fuck me, baby."

I hear giggling in the background.

"Lila, man, Jesus!" I say.

"Oh, here we go, another fucking lecture. YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER!!" She says.

WTF.

"Shit, Lila! I KNOW I'm not your father!! You know what? Just fucking call me when you come down, ok??"

"I love you."

"Ya, I know."

"I looooooove you, lover....I love you soooooo much........I tell my friends, you know....I tell them how you fuck meee," she says, in her sexy little-girl voice. More giggling.

"Goodbye, Lila."

So much for plan B.

What now? I could go home and whack off to some porn. Or, I could call Butterface. Like I said, that is the move of a DESPERATE fucking man.

I decide to head back home and do the porn thing. Found a nice DVD that I had not watched before; pounded one out, and felt just fine. Good enough to sleep, anyway.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP! The front door.

DING, DONG! The doorbell. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

Who the FUCK is that?

I go to the window and look down at the front porch. It's Kelly.

SHIT!

I briefly consider not answering the door. But I do.

I open the door. She looks out of breath. And angry.

"You are SUCH a fucking asshole," she says.

We kiss violently.

We stumble into the door. I kick it closed. I pull her jeans down. I'm not going for nudity here, just enough to get where I need to be.

Basically, we don't make it 10 feet past the door. I do her right on the stairs, pounding her hard. I just cranked one out, remember, so I can go all night, if I want.

She is talking to me, goading me. "Fuck me, fucking pound me! HARDER!"

Oh yeah, don't you worry about that, honey.

We finish. I am in full caveman mode; I don't even want to look at her. I get up and head to the kitchen. She goes to the bathroom.

I crack open a beer. She comes out of the bathroom, adjusting her belt.

"Get out," I say, only half kidding.

"You FINALLY got it right," she says.