75 - The Catalyst to Happiness

     “The Catalyst to happiness,” said Derich.
     “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.
     “I don’t know that I would say you’re an initiator as much as a catalyst,” said
Derich polishing off his third beer.  “That said I don’t even know why I hang out with
you.  I can’t believe you left a willing, drunk, half Asian woman alone on a couch because
‘you wanted to wake up in your own bed,’” he whined mocking me.  I’m disgusted.  What the
fuck were you thinking?!?”
     Derich had just broken up with a girl he was really comfortable with because he was
really comfortable with her and the adrenaline was still running rampant through his
system.  He was a bit more aggressive than usual and I was there to make sure he didn’t do
anything too rash.  Each time I tried to talk to him about her he changed the subject.
     “It’s this power thing that she and Paris do.  They subconsciously go on this 'who
can get this guy first' quest until they realize that they are doing.  Then, it all stops
and you are left with a handful of nothing,” I replied leaning against the railing of the
porch.
     “And if you’re smart,” he said shaking the empty bottle for the last drop of beer,
“you fuck them both!!”
     “Look, man, I just, I…” I stammered.
     “Candy ass.”
     “Come on!  I thought you didn’t like Paris, anyway.”
     “What I think of that disease ridden prostitute doesn’t matter, besides you were with
Kinky last week and…”
     “Kiki,” I interrupted, “her name is Kiki.”
     “This chick is an ex-stripper who can still lick the back of her own thighs,
correct?!?” I shrugged in agreement.  “Then Kinky it is!” he declared triumphantly
stepping back into the apartment to get another beer from the kitchen.
     “You kill me,” I said lighting up an American Spirit.  “And what the hell do you mean
catalyst to happiness?”
     “Maybe it’s better for her that you didn’t sleep with her.”  He said handing me an
ice cold beer.  “Does she already have her next husband or long term boyfriend picked out
and ready to go yet?”
     “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
     “Every time you bang some chick,” he said pointing his bottle at me, “she either ends
up getting married or hooking up with some dude and staying with him for the next five
years and shit.  It’s like you are their catalyst to happiness.”
     “That is such…” I started.
     “You were the one who told me this.  These are your words not mine.  I’m just
reminding you.  Think about the last few girls you slept with, how many of them are still
free?”  He tipped the bottom of his bottle toward the sky and killed half of it with one
pull.
     I ran the recent short list through my head.  I went back three years.  Even the
women I had come really close to sleeping with had some type of long term relationship. 
The further we went physically the stronger their current relationship was.
     I took a long drag of my cigarette and looked off into the distance.  I couldn’t
think of one woman I had been with four years ago who didn’t either get married or jump
into a long term relationship with next guy that they dated/slept with. 
     “Can’t think of one can you?”
     I let the smoke slowly swirl.
     “Son of a bitch,” I said taking in the late day sun.
     “Maybe you should have slept with Karen before I met her,” he said finally releasing
the great weight from his shoulders.  His eyes looked deep in purple sky.
     “What’s it been a couple of days maybe a week?  Give her a call.  Talk to her.”
     “I don’t know, man.”  The beers and the heat were taking their toll on him.  I would
only have a few minutes to talk sense into him.
     “Look, Derich, it’s not like you are going to marry this girl just see it through
until the end.  You never know where it could go.  You cut it off too early.”
     “I don’t know.  I don’t know,” he repeated grabbing the railing.
     I leaned back against the railing and felt the slick smile cut across my face.  I
took a final deep drag of my cigarette and flicked the butt onto the sidewalk.  I move out
of punching range just in case I was wrong.
     “Because I’m a good friend of yours tell you what I’ll do.  I’ll fuck her and things
will work out perfect.”
     His face crunched up like I had just punched him in the balls and his hands gripped
the railing for dear life.  After a second he shook his head and smiled.
     “I don’t even know why I hang out with you.”
     “Cause I’m the catalyst to happiness, kiddo, the catalyst to happiness.”

That Beautiful Black Man