Damn It All to Hell

Chapter 12

“You tired of dancing yet?”

Tired of dancing? Shit, no! ‘No. Are you?’

“A little.”

Well that’s not a difficult problem to solve...‘Drink more.’

“Okay!”

‘What do you want?’

“Whatever!”

Does this girl know how to make a decision at all? I don’t think she does, but at least she’s getting nicely trashed. She can really drink; I can’t remember how many drinks I’ve bought her. I know I’m gonna wake up tomorrow morning and wonder where all my money went. Oh well -- all in the name of a good fuck. I gotta start getting smarter about this, though. ‘Long Island.’

Damn bartender. I’m gonna kill him. Hey! Look who it is! My luck’s getting better all the time. ‘Hey!’

“Hey, man! What’s up?”

‘How ya doin’?’

“Great, man, I got the greatest fucking batch of E you ever fucking seen!”

‘No kiddin’?’

“Naw, man! It’s good shit!”

Hm....’How much?’

“Twenty-five.”

‘How ‘bout an I.O.U.?’

“Just for you, man.”

He kicks ass. ‘Gimme four.’ This couldn’t have worked out better. I haven’t seen this guy in months. He seems to only show up when I’m fucking toasted. Of course, he’s so fucked up that he probably won’t even remember that he saw me tonight. He never remembered the last time. The dude is seriously fucked up.

This is great! The girl is already to the point of not being able to taste the alcohol. I wonder what would happen if I put some E in her Long Island? That should be fun. Shit, what was her name again? Goddammit, I wonder if this stuff will even dissolve in a drink? Ah, I might as well just give it to her. ‘Hey! You want one?’

“Hell, yeah!”

She’s cool. She’s not concerned about anything. I wonder what’s wrong with her? Sometimes you have to wonder why some girls are so willing to go home with you. I’m not sure I understand it. It’s too easy. It’s like they go out drinking for the sole purpose of finding a man to take them home because they have nothing better to do with their time. I think they’re kinda lost. They just want to feel needed. But you know what? I don’t care, as long as they still come home with me. It’s not even an issue of being good-looking or suave or anything. It’s just a matter of telling them what they want to hear. If it was the good-looking issue, Edan would end up getting all the girls. He wonders why he doesn’t, but I know it’s because he doesn’t like to play the game. He’s too nice.

All we have to do now is sit here and wait for the drugs to kick in. This is the boring part. You have to kinda take the drug, sit back, and try to forget you took it. If you wait for it to kick in, you might miss it altogether. It’s best to just sort of try to forget until you pretty much fall over yourself while you’re trying to dance. Before you know it, your head will start swaying with the beat of the music in directions you didn’t even know your head could move, and your body won’t know how hard it’s working so you could dance and dance until you literally drop dead. It’s pretty cool. You do get kind of thirsty, though.

It’s probably a good thing Edan took off, after all. He doesn’t much care for the whole drug thing. He wishes I would never touch drugs at all. I think it’s just because he’s afraid he’ll start and get addicted. That’s probably what would happen, too. He gets very attached to things. Sometimes I wonder why he can’t just let go.

This girl is getting hotter by the second. She’s throwing her hair around like a wild zebra on the open range. Her hair is red from the reflection of the lights, but it’s actually a very obviously bleached blonde from a natural medium brown. She’s wearing make-up that says she wants to get laid, and she’s touching her own breasts while she dances. I want this girl bad. What the hell was her name?

“Do you feel anything yet?”

‘Don’t know. Let’s find out.’ I have to kiss her right now. Her waist is so small when I put my arm around it, and she barely needs to be pulled in my direction. She’s so easily influenced by the drugs, the alcohol, and my obviously dashing charms. Her lipstick tastes like vanilla ice cream, but the taste of the Long Island follows quickly behind. I think I can almost taste the chemical in the drug, too, but that could just be my imagination.

“You wanna leave now?”

‘Okay. Let’s go.’ Yeah, this is good timing. The drugs are kicking in just as we decide we’ve been dancing long enough.

“Wait, let’s dance one more song.”

‘Okay.’ I’m happy with this suggestion, too. Right now, dancing is the best thing in the world. I feel like I’m standing still and the world is dancing around me. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster and I’m ready to plummet down to the bottom of a two-hundred foot hill. I feel like I’m standing in the doorway of an airplane, looking at the clouds below me just before I jump. I feel like I’m about to step onstage before a ten-thousand person audience. I feel fucking awesome.

The music is throbbing in my head like it exists there as its own entity, like it’s coming from within and no one else can hear it. It’s playing for me alone, pulsing like the blood in my veins.

I can’t see anyone. Everyone is swirling around me, staring at me like I’m a fish in a fishbowl, but I can’t look at them. It’s like I have no eyes. It’s like all these people are only figments of my imagination who exist for the sole purpose of making sure I’m not lonely. I feel like I’m swimming through the air. The air is thick like water, maybe even thicker than that. It’s almost thick enough to hold me up, when I lean back with all my weight. I am superhuman. I can do anything.

Every time she looks at me, I see woman. I see everything that has ever represented femininity in my mind. Her eyes are round and wide, smudged with make-up that’s suffered from the sweat of dancing. Her hair is wildly exotic to match the uninhibited soul that’s trying so hard to escape from her body. Her body is more perfectly shaped than I remember. Her breasts and hips are larger, softer, and more inviting. Her lips are parting with the taste of a kiss I know I’ll receive in just a little while. Her eyes are locked with mine, but I can’t see into them. All I can see is the positive energy and the sexual nature of her existence. All I can see is how much I want her. We need to go now. ‘Let’s go.’

“Okay.”

She looks like she’s never been happier in her life. She’s so happy to be alive. I love knowing someone’s on drugs. I can look at her and feel perfectly content with myself, since I know she’s happy. I know her mind is where it wants to be, and I know that everything coming into her mind was there to begin with, anyway. All she needed was a little permission to go where she wanted to go. Her subconscious has finally been allowed to breathe. But I don’t care. I just wanna take her home.

Her hand molds into mine as we stumble out the door into the clear night. ‘Come here.’ I can’t help but stare at the sky. The stars are peeking out from behind subtle clouds, and I feel almost like I can touch them. I feel like the stars are telling me the mysteries of every culture that’s ever been alive on this earth. I feel like I could take a star out of the sky and put it in my mouth to taste the sweetest, most succulent intensity of the perfect strawberry.

The snow on the ground around us looks so fucking cold. We should probably put our coats on, but the cold air makes our skin feel prickly and invigorated like it’s about to jump off our bodies. Why would we want to put our coats on? Why would we want to keep our bodies from doing what they want to do? Why would we need to be protected from something as natural as the crisp night air? We don’t need coats. We’re higher than the weather. The weather can’t touch us. The air feels so good to breathe as we stand out here in the middle of the street. We know that the cars will avoid us and get out of our way. It doesn’t matter that we might cause a car accident standing here. It doesn’t matter that a drunk driver might come by and hit us. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.