My life was just fine before I met Stan . I had never had any problems with anything. This is not where I blame him for all the things that I consider to be not right about my life, nor am i calling him the catalyst for anything negative that has transpired . I'm writing this so that whoever reads it can decide for themselves. I promise not to embellish or , or slant, or steer , or edit , or spin this tale in any way. The truth can be so fucked up, there is no need . It just spins itself.
The night I Met Stan , was the kind of night where my roommate , at the time, would always look out the window and look back at me with concern as I laced up my Nike's. He was like " I dunno, it looks a bit ominous out there. You should sty home. I have a bad feeling. "
"I'm not getting on a bi-plane to cross over the Bermuda triangle, I'm going to the Hole In The Wall . I wanna play some pinball. And it's Cock and Ball night. It's funny." As I stood up , he walks over , stares me right in the eyes and says nothing. He just shakes his head .
Then he;s like " What is so funny about Cock and Ball night?"
Staring back , I'm like " Are you serious?" Without another word I grab my jacket from behind the door and wave as I say goodbye. He, I keep saying he because I can't remember his name , was so serious all the time, I think he was home schooled.
While I waited for the pinball machine I was fully working it out in a sleazy gay bay way, and that's when I saw Stan see me. He had on a baseball hat, leather jacket , and a t shirt that read "Who's up for Speed." My first thoughts, Clearly a drug dealer, totally self absorbed, walking towards me.
Before I had the chance to realize Stan was coming over to talk to me, he was there. Smoke came billowing out of his nostrils like a demon. He ignored my hand waving in front of my face and he waited until I stopped coughing and gasping for air before he introduced himself.
He was like ," Hi I'm Stan, how are you?"
Somewhere in the distance I heard a thunderclap and a woman screaming. Still fanning smoke from my face I was like " I think it's your turn."
Stan spun around and finished his game in three shots. There just wasn't enough time for me to get away , the Bar was crowded with people, there just wasn't enough time.
Stan caught up to me as I was trying to squeeze through two lesbians comparing mullets. He was like , "Hey where are you going?" Shrouded by smoke from his cigarette, I couldn't, or I didn't want to get too close. What if he was on fire and had no idea? That's a job for a professional .
" I was going outside to call an ambulance because I swear you're trying to give me a black lung. " I smiled back.
" Sorry." He put out his camel wide, and smiled again. As the smoke cleared I didn't feel so afraid for my life and soul any more. And he was kind of cute.
We talked about everything, people we knew in common , music , leather versus latex, and of course, where we would be going after we left the bar together.
I was like " My place is off limits . My roommate would take one look at you and go off , ' I told you to stay home'. And then he would hover."
Stan grabbed my hand and without a word , we headed for the door. Stan said goodbye and waved one by one to everybody we passed. I kept my head down because I had never left a bar with a drug dealer before, and I didn't want people to think I was his bitch.
After all it felt like I was in good hand . When I looked at the back of Stan's jacket, across the shoulders in huge white letters was the word SLEEP. In the fresh nighttime air , Stan turned to me and asked " Do you party?" I would later realize I would never use the word Sleep in context ever again.
In the distance I heard the sound of my roommate passing judgment and shaking his head. Fuck him, I couldn't even remember his name .
to be continued
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