59 - Another Stotler File

     "Open up," I yelled beating on Stotler's door.  "It's fucking cold out here."  Between the flights of stairs, finding a parking spot in condo village, and the chilly twilight air I just wanted to get into the apartment and stretch out on Stotler's couch.
     As I heard footsteps coming toward the door I leaned back and put both middle fingers in the air for a two pronged salute.
     "What's up, fucker?"  I said as the door swung open.
     "Oh my."  I said sheepishly as a very attractive familiar looking brunette stood in the doorway.
     "I ... I'm ... sorry" I bumbled checking to make sure I was on the right floor.  "I was looking for..."
     "Your friend's here," she interrupted, laughingly yelling over her shoulder.  "You should have seen the look on your face when I answered the door."  She said still laughing.
     "You are ... Kelly, right?" I asked remembering I had met her and Stotler at a restaurant a few months ago.
     "Good memory.  Come on in.  Dinner's ready."
     "Dinner?"  I caught the smell of a feast behind her hypnotic perfume.
     "You wouldn't happen to have an unattached twin sister with loose morals, would you?"  I said as I stepped through the doorway.
     "You're funny.  Hey, babe," she said to Stotler as he came around the corner, "I have to run back to my apartment to grab the wine.  I'll be right back."
     She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, grabbed her jacket, and ran down the stairs in one fluid motion.
     "She's hot."  I said headed for the back porch.  Pleasant surprises always require fresh air and yellow American Spirits.
"She looks like Famke Janssen.  You know, that chick from the X-men?  She played Xenia Onatopp in the first Pierce Brosnan Bond movie."
     "Weren't you just beating on the front door complaining about how cold it is out here?" asked Stotler following me out on to the porch.
     "That was just to piss your neighbors off."  I said blowing the smoke into the crisp night air.  I pointed to the King's Feast on the dining room table.  "She cooks.  She cooks!!"  I threw my hands into the air.  "Apparently she cooks very well."
     "Fuck you," laughed Stotler as he patted his little belly.  "We'll talk when your done."
     When I came back inside Stotler told me a story of two lonely people talking; discussing divorce, distrust, and distress.
     "Sounds like another page for the Stotler file."  I finally stretched out on his couch.
     "You know you can't write about any of that, correct?"
     "Yeah, I know. I know.  I do keep a little file for the day you change your mind.  The only argument I can make in my favor is that most people that read this don't think you exist anyway."
     "Good."  He said taking a piece of grilled chicken.
     "I can make you look like the phoenix rising from the ashes.  This is quality Oprah type shit, man.  Rebuilding a broken heart, we can help a lot of people."
     He just looked at me and slowly let the chicken melt in his mouth.
     "Open up, Stotler.  It's not as cold out here as it seems."

That Beautiful Black Man

51 - Welcome Back

     "Welcome back."  I said as I walked through Stotler's new apartment.  It
was a nice little place located in Condo Central, CT.  Bedroom, office, kitchen,
living room, what else does a guy need?
     "Well," I said pulling the Spirits out of my pants pocket, "at least it has
a porch.  I just think you should have bought a house.  I like the place but I
just can't stand the thought of all of these fucking people around."
     "Weren't you considering moving to New York?" he asked stepping on to the
porch.  He cracked open a beer and took a solid swig.
     "New York is different.  You may have all of these people living around but
nobody gives a damn about you or what you do.  This place, you can't fart
without someone two apartments over talking about yoOOOhhhhh I see you have a
view of the pool."  I said switching gears as two treadmill friendly, bikini
clad females made themselves comfortable.
     "I now see some of the appeal of this place."  I let the smoke trail over
the railing.
     "They're married." He said waiving the smoke away.
     "To each other?  Nice this gets more exciting by the moment."
     "NO, asshole, I know their husbands.  They..."
     "Don't tell me.  I have no interest in what sausage does for a living."
     "So let me get this straight," he said changing the subject, "you're
hanging out with some twenty year old girl who likes you to go to yoga classes
with her?"
     I took a long deep drag. 
     "She's twenty-one," I said leaning against the railing.  "Just had a
birthday Saturday.  You know you should put an ashtray out here."  I flicked the
ashes into the wind.
     "Dude, you're the only one who smokes and you've only been here twice in
eight months."
     "I might be here more if there were an ashtray.  Anyway, I've only been to
yoga once..."
     "What, no ashtrays there either."
     "That was quick.  I like that.  Very funny."
     "Is she hot?"
     "Surprisingly."
     "Nice, you're dating a twenty year old girl."
     "Correction; I'm her side piece.  She's got a steady boyfriend."
     The treadmill friendly females slowly turned over onto their stomachs and
we were both caught off guard.
     "Side piece?!?"
     "Welcome back to the world of the single guy.  Dates are hard to come by.
The bar scene has gotten tired.  We are now the old guys at the club.  Doesn't
get much better than that.  A pretty girl makes eye contact with me lately and
I'm the happiest guy on the planet."
     "Seriously?"
     "No.  It's not that bad but the competition is fierce."
     "I'm not ready for this bullshit.  Maybe if we worked a little harder
marriage I..."  he put his beer on the railing and the smoke rolled around it.
     "Don't.  Just don't.  Somethings just aren't meant to be.  Bask in the
right now.  You've got the killer bachelor pad, a good job, the nice yet
slightly gay car, your health, those two hot asses down by the pool, and most of
all a new found freedom.  Just one thing missing."
     "What's that?" he asked taking another drink.
     "A fucking ashtray."  I flicked the ashes into the wind.

That Beautiful Black Man

42 - The Freak Out

     "I just can't believe it.  I thought I was pretty good at this!"  I stomped
around my work-in-progress house.  The total place is in disarray.  I have all of my
parents stuff in my kitchen.  What started out as putting new floors in their downstairs
living space and cascaded into gutting the house.  Funny how that happens.
     The clutter makes my mind slip gears.  I go left when I should go right and
everything falls apart.  Don't get me wrong, I don't live in the nicest place ever. 
According to my sister until I did a little cleaning up a year ago "Bears would have
trouble finding a place clean enough to shit!"
     "I think my focus must be off," I said to Stotler.  "Not one person
has taken me up on my offer of oral!  This is almost insulting."
     I flopped down in the middle of a little trail that lead to my kitchen.  I really
wanted a cigarette but I don't smoke in my own house.
     "I don't know what to tell you.  I never had a problem before I got
married."  He said, politely ignoring the pile of clothes that occupies every single
guy's couch.  "One thing would just lead to another and before I knew it there I
was."
     "Right now that just turns my goddamned stomach.  Maybe Paris was right.  Maybe
I do need to work out.  Dump fifteen, twenty pounds.  Who knows?"
     "How goes 'The Name Game'?"  He said smiling just a little.
     "This is quite possibly the worst idea I have ever had.  I take that back.  If
I had come up with that idea about ten years ago I would be the happiest man on the
planet right now.  I would just be bragging 'Ha ha only five names left to go!'  Now I'm
like 'Shit five impossible names, no choices, no oral, no hope!'  Maybe I should just
start stabbing people!"
     Stotler just sat back on the couch rubbing his eyes.  I should say he sat back as
far as the clothes, blanket, and pillows would allow.
     "Maybe my brother was right.  Maybe this is a sign that it's time for you to
settle down."
     "You know I think I agree.  I hear that after you've been married for a while
the sex seems to stop.  Maybe I am married.  I just skipped the wedding and the honeymoon
and went straight to the no-sex-I-don't-see-you-part."
     "What about that girl that was here last week?"
     "We're just friends.  Some days I think I should just slap a skirt on and go
shopping with her.  I'm fucking dying here.  I can't even hibernate this year!"
     "Ah yes.  The four months were no one hears from you or sees you.  I can't
believe you still do that."
     "Not this year.  I just haven't made enough cash this year to fix up the house,
maintain the car, and sit on my ass all winter."
     "So what are you gonna do?"  he said moving an empty box of Chinese food
to the "garbage".
     "I have no idea." I said pacing through the trail again.  "I have no
idea."

38 - Goals

          "There has to be something more to it than this," I said standing
on Stotler's back porch.  "I need some new goals."
     "Maybe that's something telling you to settle down," he said
taking a swig of his beer.
     "Who are you now, Dr. Phil?"  The machines hissed and sputtered.
     Things had just been slow lately.  I hadn't hooked up in a while
and I really didn't have any interest in anyone new.
     I still was chasing in Terry but she had found someone who had sparked
her interest.  Paris was never really an option there is so much there
but there is also so much missing that would make the relationship
work.  She's like a cross between Traci Lords and a young hot Martha Stewart.
     I was just so tired of the bar scene.  The last time I even felt
the "urge to merge" was at the wedding I attended in Maine.  She was
married and I had a seven hour drive home and no money for a hotel
room.
     I let the smoke roll out of my mouth and stared up at the stars.
     "You must be on crack.  I mean that this whole hooking up this has gotten
old.  I need to find a new way to approach it."
     "Maybe he's right," chimed in his younger brother.  It could be
time for you to settle down.  Look at me I've been with the same girl
for almost two years and I'm still happy."
     "Candy ass."   I said taking a deep drag of the American Spirit
red.  "Ignorance is bliss, kid.  Don't take this the wrong way but the
reason I'm not married or in a long term relationship is because I'm
not going to make some poor woman put up with the torture of being with my
ignorant ass.  Besides I keep telling you should experiment more."
     "Yeah but if he's happy why crush it for him," said Stotler
swatting at a moth.
     "How many girls have you been with?" I said pointing at the
younger Stotler.
     "Dude," said the older Stotler almost laughing, "this is my
younger brother!"
     "No listen to me.  I'm not saying that you have to bang every girl you can.
Not to say I haven't tried.  What I am saying by being with more than one person
... intimately ... you get a chance to find out what you like and don't like in
a relationship.  By being with more than say three or four people," I said
blowing smoke toward the younger Stotler, "you get to recognize things you don't
like sooner.  To me dating is like practice for marriage.  The more practice I
get the better I'll be at the real thing!"
     "Here we go," said the older Stotler.
     "I can give you the name and birthday of almost all of the women
I've slept with and what I do and don't like about them."
     "Almost all?"
     "There's a list."  Said the older Stotler opening a second beer. 
The moth was still flying between him and the light.
     "How big of a list?"
     "He won't say."  said Stotler.
     "It's not as bad as everyone thinks." I said trying to find
something interesting to look at on the porch.
     "How big?"
     "I'm missing five letters of the alphabet."
     "Dude," he said sounding like his older brother, "You've slept with
twenty-one people?!?"
     "There've been a few repeats." I said under my breath.  "That's not the
point.  I even admitted that it's getting old."
     "So why don't you try to complete the alphabet and the try setting down?"
     The three of us just looked at each other.  I had found my new goal.
     "I'll call it the name game." I said flicking my cigarette into the
darkness.

That Beautiful Black Man

37 - Just a Thought

     "Just a thought," I said slowly drinking my pineapple juice.
     "Oh Christ," sighed Stotler.  Friday nights were becoming a bit slower for us.  We were now the older guys out at the bar and it seemed like the selection of younger women just wasn't what it was.  For the most part we saw these pudgy little twenty-one year olds in tank tops.  To me the term "tank" top had taken on new meaning.
     He's still married and I hunt like a married guy so there wasn't really anything interesting for us to do except talk.
     "I think I'm going to have a closed funeral."
     "You always bring up the weirdest sh*t at the weirdest times."
     "Do you see anything in here worth talking to, married guy?"
     He looked around and then looked back at his beer.
     "Why are you going to have a closed funeral?"  He said rolling his eyes.
     "Let me rephrase that.  It will be more of an invite only type of thing.  The last few funerals that I've gone to no one really knows anyone else and everyone crawls out of the woodwork just to say good-bye.  I've said it before, if you can't bring yourself to call, write, or shoot an e-mail while I'm alive why the fuck should you come to my funeral?"
     "What about the people who stop talking to you so they don't have to go."
     "I'm far too interesting not to talk to for too long," I said watching some geek attempting to buy "tank" top a drink.
     "Yeah but what about the people who actually get the invite?"
     "I was more into the thought that someone would show up at the door and be turned away because their name wasn't on the list.  Can you imagine getting denied at a funeral like it was a club in Manhattan?"
     "You're a whack job.  You would turn away those people who got invites?"
     "No, no, no.  The people with the invites would get in no problem.  I'm just thinking about the stragglers."
     "The stragglers?" he asked flagging the waitress.
     "You know the people who don't write or call but show up and cry like teething babies.  If you can't take time for me while I'm here then don't come visit me when I'm dead."
     He looked at the girl in the pink "tank" top and shook his head.
     "The treadmill is your friend.  Don't be afraid of it." I said just loud enough for him to hear.
     "Dude you kill me."
     "Anyway the only thing that pisses me off is that I won't be there to see the faces of the people who get turned away."
     "You already have this list don't you."
     "Treadmill," I coughed as the "tank" top walked by again.  "You won't know until I'm dead now will you."
     "I did mention you were a whack job, didn't I?"
     "Just a thought."  I said finishing off my pineapple juice.

That Beautiful Black Man

33 - Secrets

     "I can't believe it."  I said looking wildly around the yard.  "Well you kind of had to expect it."  I shook an American Spirit Red free from its resting place and slowly took a drag.  The drag was as deep as the secret he had just shared with me.
     "You know I have to write about this, right?"
     "Fuck that!  No way!  I am going to keep this under wraps as long as I can!"  He shook his head forcefully from side to side.  "This does not go on that short story/blog or whatever-the-fuck you call it."
     "Are you kidding me?!?  This is great shit!  It'll be like watching someone rebuild from the ashes.  Do you know how many people are in the exact same boat you're in?  Worst case scenario we catch a little flak.  Best case we help someone out who is in the same boat."
     "No."  he said.  His statement was simple and direct.  "This is something I have to handle.  Putting it out there will just make it worse."
     "How?!?  I'll change your name!  Switch cities, make you older or younger ... this could work!"  I felt like a scum bag trying to get his girlfriend to take her clothes off for his buddies but at the same time I knew this would make a good story.
     "It's not like you killed somebody, this is just everyday stuff.  You fucked up.  We all do."
     I wondered how Stotler would handle this.  I'm not really good at being the moral barometer.  As long as it feels good, no one gets hurt, and it's not too illegal, I'm all for it.
     I took another deep drag and watched the smoke dance in the wind as I exhaled.  He just stood there with his head hung low and his hands on his hips.  He was defeated and there was nothing he could do about it.  As the smoke disappeared I thought I saw the fire in his eyes dim.  I just couldn't believe it.
That Beautiful Black Man

31 - Wedding Betting

     "You are a complete wack job.  Please tell me you're kidding," said
Stotler rubbing his eyes with his hands.
     "About the fact that I quit smoking again or that I bet on weddings?"  I
asked.  I still wanted a cigarette even though it had been 35 days.  I've had 12 drags of
various cigarettes since early April but I haven't bought a pack.
     "I can't believe you f*cking bet on weddings."  Stotler is the church guy.
He's been married for five years, I think.  I was beyond hammered at the wedding, tried
to bang one of the bridesmaids, slept on the floor of another bridesmaids suite, and
almost got kicked out of the room for drunken snoring.  He tends to have a certain view
on things.
     "Look man," I said taking a swig of Smirnoff ice, "the divorce rate
is through the roof in these great United States.  I figure if I have to be subjected to
a day or night of torture I may as well let the business man in me out.  There is nothing
more painful than having to sit in the fucking pews of some church and choke through a
long drawn out ceremony..."
     "You were in my goddamned wedding party."
     "Oh yeah...that's right...ha ha..."  Did I mention that I was drunk at his
wedding?
     "I'm guessing you don't want to hear how this works then do you?"  The
great thing about curiosity is that it gets people every time.
     "Why the hell not."  He said releasing a deep breath.  Curiosity, baby.
     "It's real easy.  I find the most gung ho marriage buff @ either the wedding or
the reception and I bet a tiered $100 that the marriage won't last five years."
     "Tiered?!?" his curiosity was poking through the disgust.
     "Yeah, tiered.  It's actually a ten year bet but after five years instead of
paying me $100 I get $20 less each year." He looked puzzled.
"Let's say you last 6 years I get $80, 7 years I get $60 etc."
     "OK, OK, OK.  I get it.  You realize that you're an asshole, right?"
     "Here's the best part, the couple makes it ten years I give who ever I bet with
$100 bucks.  Nice, huh?"
     "You do this every time?"
     "Not every time," I answered.
     "Good because I was beginning to think..."
     "Sometimes I go double or nothing for twenty years."
     "Jesus!  Seriously?!?"
     "If I'm at a wedding son, there's money on the line.  What the hell are you
worried about?  You're in my $80 category.  Oh yeah if there's a trial separation or a
move out I get an instant $50.  I haven't made any money on this one yet cause it's a new
clause."
     I heard the gears turning ever so slowly as the machine started up again.  It was a
subtle whirring.
     "Think about it. The next time someone tries too hard to end an argument or
make sure a couple stays together they might not really be worried about you.  They might
have some money on the line."
     "Did I mention that you are a complete wack job?"


That Beautiful Black Man

26 - Off Kilter

     "A bear?!?" He said as I sat down at the little table.
     "A bear."
     "Jesus.  You know that there are people in this area that have never even seen bears and you hit one." 
     "Yep."  It was early evening.  We had been playing phone tag all day.  Through a series of messages decided to meet at the usual spot for some drinks.  The warm November wind was somewhat deceiving.  I usually avoided going out this late in the season but the beautiful weather was still callin' me.  The machines were quietly humming away processing the events of the past day.
     "Pineapple juice, no ice, right?" asked the older yet attractive brunette waitress.  I just smiled and nodded.
     "It's warm as all hell you know?"
     "I know." She walked away shaking her head.  I lit an American Spirit and took a deep drag.
     "You couldn't hit a deer or a skunk or a rabbit or something like that, you had to hit a bear?!?  And to think you hid that car behind your house so nothing would happen to it Halloween night."
     "How's my ass feel?  Oh well the guys from Sharon Auto Body are going to take care of me so I'm not worried about it."
     For those of you who don't know I've known Stotler for about 30 years.  We're like polar opposites.  He's the tall, thin, white guy.  I'm the short, stocky, black guy.  He's married to a wonderfully forgiving wife (hey she let's him hang out with me) and I'm the ultimate single guy.  He teaches and influences Americas youth.  I'm interested in the over 21 aspect of Americas female youth.
     "I figure that's the way that my life goes.  If things weren't just a bit off kilter how much fun would that be?"  I took another deep drag of the spirit and slowly let a piece of my soul out with the escaping smoke.
     We had a silent pact.  Through him I would live vicariously as the married guy and he would live through whatever mishaps I happened to live through.  It seemed to be working out good so far.  Never a dull moment.
     "Maybe I should just chill out, get a real job, find a nice girl, get married, buy a house and have my two little daughters.  Think about it," I said inhaling another deep drag while the machines began to work into a steady whir, "let's say my life weren't off kilter and everything were dead on, I may have hit that bear dead on and COMPLETELY destroyed my car!  Better yet I could have been killed"
     "Understandable," he said taking a good swig of of his beer. "But if you take the point of view that everything would was dead on isn't it possible that you might not even be here?  Maybe you would have been married, or maybe you would be in a different area? Maybe being off kilter is what's holding you back."
     Sometimes the answer is so simple. This is what long time friends are for, getting straight to the point.  If they are good friends they make no bones about the truth and they don't let you hide behind yourself.  My friend Heather Anne is like that too. They both keep it simple. They stick with the bare necessities.
     "Who knows maybe I'm wrong," he said rethinking his answer. "I can't really picture you without that edge.  A bear?!?"
     "A bear," I said letting another piece of my soul escape.

That Beautiful Black Man

23 - Option B

     "I have just realized something." I said to Stotler exhaling
 slowly.  "I have never offered the people on the roster an option B."
  The music was quieter and we finally had a chance to talk with out yelling.
     The evening had a dull feeling to it.  There was nothing special in the air
 and the machines had been oddly quiet for quite some time.
     "I almost hate to ask but what is an option B?"  He fumbled for a
 second while trying to push the lime into his sixth or seventh Corona.  I
 couldn't remember how many we had by this point because I was becoming
 increasingly fond of my fifth Sam Adams Spring ale.
     "Option B.  This is the - Jesus, she's georgous!"  The way my
 head spun looking at the beautiful women in the bar I felt like a hungry owl at
 midnight. "Where was I?" I said just about to start the nights second
 pack of cigarettes.
     "Oh yeah, Option B is where I give people a chance to opt off the
 mailing list.  I just went through my collection of writings and realized that
 I've sent out some dark shit."
     As the lime dropped into the beer, the bubbles made it seem like it would
 evaporate back through the neck of the bottle.
     "I've heard some people find them long winded, some people find them
 disturbing, and some people just delete them.  I would rather not send
 something to someone if they don't like it."
     I knew he had a lot going on in his world but I just needed a bit of
 advice. There was a slight clank from the machines but they were still oddly
 quiet.
     "Hell I've known you for 25 years so I get it, most of the time.  If I
 didn't know you and you sent me some of this stuff I'd think you were a
 lunatic. Option B is a good idea."
     "Good because I sent it out last night."  I leaned back on the
 bar stool and let blew the smoke towards the ceiling.  The smoke eater snagged
 most of it before it could bother anyone else.

That Beautiful Black Man

8 - The Beast Unbound

    When I was younger the beast knew no bounds.  It would dance
convincingly unfazed by the monotonous moments of life and revel in the
split seconds of war that were it's life's blood.  It has very little
regard for human life (especially mine) and it enjoyed every second that
it was released from it's cage.
    The full moon hid cautiously behind the clouds.  Stotler and I were
just on our way home from a night of remembering what life was like
before the realization of time and it's unforgiving trudge forward.
    The colon, our affectionate name for the local diner, was pretty
much empty except for a few regulars and the whispers of comfort they
provided.  The only element that was out of place was a group of
wannabee bad asses who felt it necessary to let the world know that
ignorance was not just a choice but a birthright.
    My mood that night was just below par.  I only had two cigarettes
left and no cash to buy more.  The thought of putting a pack of
cigarettes on a credit card was just a little much for me.
    As we left the five guys, none older than twenty-one ran past us.
At first I thought they were trying to catch up to a friend of theirs
but I was wrong.  They stood around this new arrival in a circle.  I
pulled out my new lighter and lit one of my last connections to sanity
as the yelling started.
    "Let's go," Stotler said stepping back up on the curb.
    "Wait a minute," I said exhaling, "I want to see just how bad this
gets."  The machines began hammering as the wolves circled the prey.
"Besides, we'd have to walk through them to get to the car anyway."
    They started pushing the new guy back and forth between them.
    "I don't care what you do,"  I yelled, " just don't touch my car."
Some members of the pack just looked over their shoulders.
    I'm 5' 6" on a good day.  The only intimidation factors I have in
my rural little area are that I'm black, I wear a heavy overcoat in
the summer, and unless the light shines on my eyes just right I look
like I have no pupils.  Seeing that I was a little guy standing with my
6' 2" friend, who weighed at the time a little over nothing, they
laughed and paid me no mind.
    The adrenaline caused the machines to power out of control.
    "Don't," Stotler said quietly.  He was always the voice of common
sense.
    The first blow hit the new guy in the back of the head while a shot
to the stomach doubled him over.
    "What the f*ck?!? That's five on one!"  I said stepping off the
curb.
    "Come one don't do this.  If you jump in then I'll have to jump in
and we'll both get our asses kicked."  He was right.  I'm not a big
fighter but the adrenaline and the machines were just beyond reason.  My
body shook as I watched this poor kid getting his ass stomped, then the
unthinkable happened.  One of the pack kicked my car as he tried to
stomp the the helpless prey.  I really didn't care that he kicked my car
but it gave the beast an excuse to pounce.
    "I told you not to kick my car," the machine screamed.  I had never
heard it's voice before.  It thundered like lightning released from the
clouds behind the moon.
    "What the f*ck is wrong with you?"  it continued.  I stared walking
to my car.  They had dragged this poor kid into the center of the
parking lot.  He had the dignity not to scream out loud.  I was too
wrapped in the thought of releasing the beast to be so inclined.
    "One simple request," the machine yelled opening the trunk. "Don't
kick my hit my f*cking car.  How difficult is that?"
    I found the red gas can and removed the cap.  As the machine led me
to the center of the parking lot one of the wolves caught me out of the
out of the corner of his eye.
    "What made you think I was kidding motherf*cker?"  I said as I
walked closer unsheathing the lighter once again.  Mindless animals who
only prey at night are usually afraid of the light.  Baptism by fire for
a thinking animal is far too much to bear for it involves not only light
but if it is done right the realization of what is wrong.
    They stood back from their intended victim.  The thought of their
own physical well-being threatened was a bit much for them.  Stotler
just looked on from the curb.  The little crew made their way to their
car and took off.  I helped the kid to his feet just as the police drove
by.
    I never found out his name.  Never wanted to.
    "You are f*cking crazy," Stotler said as I drove him home.  "You do
realize that?"
    "You want to know what makes it worse," I said laughing as the
machines slowed, "there's probably enough gas in this container to light
my last cigarette."

2 - The Smoke

    "That's all she said?  Only you?"  Stotler asked.  He clasped his
hands over his beer and stared at the bottles behind the bar.
    I watched the smoke rise from my slow burning cigarette.  It
traveled the length of the cancer stick and then rose into the air just
before it reached the filter line, as if reaching the end would be too
much for it to bear.  I took another deep drag and blew it at the
bottles behind the bar.
    "That's it.  I did notice that she couldn't bring herself to touch
me, though."  The smoke hung in layers.
    "You do realize this girls loves you."  He wedding ring was now
brightly reflecting the dull light.  Every conversation we had now
revolved around my time to settle down.  The thought almost made my skin
crawl.  I had come close to settling down once but f*cked it up, as do
most men in their early twenties.
    "Look, man, I didn't come down to talk about my none existent
relationship status.  I came down to watch you drink that poison and to
stare at these cute waitresses."
    I really wanted to get away from the grinding of my mind.  I hadn't
been able to shut the machines off since she and I stood on the beach.
Realization and resolution are two completely different species.  I felt
like I was regressing.
    "Besides," I continued, "She didn't see it."
    "It?" he said puzzled at first.  "What do you mean ... oh ... that
f*ckin' rain forest sh*t you're always telling me about?"
    I closed my eyes took another slow, deep drag.  The smoke released
easily from my lungs and cascaded from the bar to the well below.  The
bottles remained the same but the colors changed slightly with the
light.  The realization was still sinking in.
    "Yes, it.  When you met your wife you knew right away that she was
'the one' right?  You were ready.  Your mind set was such that you could
give yourself to another person correct?"
    "Yes on both points."
    "Well I'm not ready.  I don't want to be ready.  The vision is too
clear."
    "I think you're just being selfish."  He took another swig of his
beer.  He stretched his arms to the bar and slowly turned from side to
side, cracking his back.  " I have to get home," he said reaching far
above his head.  "Long day tomorrow.  Think about what I said.  This
girl could be good for you."
    "She doesn't see it."
    "Most of us don't.  She's right about one thing; only you see some
of the crazy shit you see."
    As he left I watched the smoke caress the ever changing bottles
behind the bar.  As I left I fought with sounds of the machines in my
head.

04/04/01