I have been trying to get to this for some time now but every time I stop my life to do anything , I am interrupted by my life. So try to stay with me I have a lot to cover. Stan went away to jail, and even though we weren't on the best of terms, I have this idea about friendship . The people who I choose to call my friends are people I am usually friendly with. If that aspect is missing , I will usually demote them to acquaintance or oopsie doodle, what was I thinking.
Over the past year or so I have become more of a loner, and that's great because, I am not very expensive for me to hang around, I think I am really funny and, I don't need to get on BART or travel across town to get off. Perfect. But I was with a couple of friends one night , a night I guessI was trying not to be solitary, when some one mentioned Stan's Lake Merritt apartment was up for grabs and they needed to find a new tenant or he would lose it.
In the less than one second it took for me to think about it, I said I would take it. And I will tell you why. In the course of that thought I saw my entire relationship with Stan and I could see all the times he had helped me in the past. He had done things that could only be described as selfless. He had been my hero so many times and I hated him for it. Go figger.
By taking the apartment I saw a way to repay him for some of his selflessness and work out some of that resentment I had . I mean lets face it who wants to be carrying around all that anger. It's bullshit and , I was ready to leave it in a dumpster .
Two days later I am moving into Stan's place and packing up his stuff for safe keeping. When I was still one of his minion, theses things , this collection of memorabilia of a life spent as a drug dispensary and human disco ball, was so important to me . Now , when I look at the t-shirt that say I heart CRACK, I can hardly muster a chuckle . With as most of Stan stored away I began to settle in. And I gotta tell you , it felt good to be out here, making it, living alone and out in the world , shaking my cakes, getting my groove on, I was like the post modern neo urban fag guerrilla Mary Tyler Moore.
Its felt like every once in a while I wanted to stop halfway through my walk around Lake Merritt and throw my cock ring into the air. After a short time I had committed to my routine of living in the east bay. The train rides always ended the same way , with the same guy waiting at the end of the escalator asking if I had a pass for him . I always said no.
He responded with "Well how am I supposed to get home?"
I never had the heart to tell him I thought he was already there.
I had even met a few of the neighbors, Hayden and Peter lived just around the corner, I don't think Hayden is his real name , I think its his porn name, but he has never done porn , Its like he's an enigma wrapped in a contradiction, or a pig in a blanket I forget which one. Peter is the ex - boyfriend and they live together amicably. I couldn't ever get out of either one of them just why they broke up. But if I had to guess, it had something to do with Hayden being the bottom that ate Northern California, maybe Peter felt like he couldn't compete. But at least I had a back up plan in case I ever run out of sugar or butter or I am desperate need for an insatiable stunt bottom and parking.
Then suddenly the phone rings one day and It's Stan. He had just been released form jail, early. So much for my sit com. I didn't think Stan would be out so soon, I didn't know if he wanted me out right away or if he knew I lived there at all until that day. My mind flashed to life with the idea of Stan and I living together but then I had this mental picture of Stan as a steam roller crushing me , so I quickly stopped entertaining that idea. Besides I can hardly see the words" I want my apartment back bitch, get out." as an invitation to stick around and cohabitate.
I agree to meet Stan at the Lake Merritt BART stop and discuss our respective next moves in person , without weapons. I had recently been given an ounce of GHB and I know that Stan loves GHB and I decide to give it to him as a peace offering. When he arrives to meet me and I flash the bottle emblazoned with a letter G, it was like watching one of Pavlov's dogs. I could have thrown the bottle in front of the train and he would have gone after it.
Stan starts going off about everything after we get to his place, I ignore him. HE sits down and Immediately downs two doses of the bottle I gave him.
I was like "Dude, that gross, I will get you a chaser,"
I walk to the kitchen and I stop to play a song I am learning on my guitar , but It doesn't sound anything like The rainbow connection so I give up. I am going to say it was maybe five minutes , six tops, as I turn the corner into the bedroom I see Stan's legs sticking out from under his desk, as I get closer I see his legs are wet and covered in feces. I felt like I was suddenly free falling.
Stan just gets out of Jail and I have killed him. That is exactly what I thought when I saw him lieing there. He's dead. I am so fucked.
He starts to cough and I start doing things Instinctuially . I don't know where I learned what I needed to do, I just did it without thinking.
This mother fucker had gotten fat in jail and I could barely get him upright, but I did. I stuck my finger in his mouth and cleared out his breathing passage. I kept him there by propping him against the bed. I made one phone call to Nob Hill Guy, he was there in five minutes.
He later told me I had forgot to disconnect the phone after I begged him to help me, and he listened to me freaking out all the way over.
A person would like to think that in a situation like that they would remain calm and cool. but apparently that isn't the case.
So I got a little emotional, this man , who I once called a dear friend and who many other people call a dear friend, was dieing, I thought he was dieing. And if you want to know why I didn't call an ambulance , its because, he had just gotten out of jail and if he survived through this, he would go back to jail and In all honesty , I think he would rather die.
When Nob Hill Guy arrived we both started slapping Stan and throwing water in his face, by the second pitcher he started gasping for air and he opened his eyes and said " What's up"
You have never seen a grown man cry as hard as I did right then and there.
Stan slept like a baby for 4 hours and I had a new respect for Nob Hill Guy, he came through for me and I could feel a genuine sense of loyalty from him. of course later he would prove to be the worlds biggest asshole , ever in the land, but at that moment it was good.
After saying goodbye to Nob Hill guy left I slept for a good long while, emotionally exhausted I passed out on the couch. I would have to wait until morning to learn in Stan could recall anything that had happened but as I drifted away I remember whispering to myself, We are even.
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