The Raven
So, it's Halloween 2004. I have been sick of this situation for a long time. I'm constantly fretting over him and am being hurled right into a nervous breakdown. I am a Murder City Devil this halloween. It doesn't take much but an alter ego. My Brother thinks I'm going crazy. I haven't been out to a bar in so long. I drink at home with my dog, and with my sometime partner - who is otherwise engaged more often now. I think he's having problems on the homefront.
My best girlfriend is going out with a guy who painfully resembles Opie... or some form of him in the 21st Century. Two days later, she and Opie visit me in my hovel. (Actually a very nice apt.)I'm still a MCD... My alter ego is sticking with me. Anyhow, not sure how it worked, but it did. The very first mention of the bar by "Opie", and I'm there... or rather, my ego is. Kiss the dog goodbye, and we're out. To the Raven.
There's recently begun this little crack in my interior.... and it's letting out this force to be reckoned with. I can no longer hold on to ideals in my head that won't hang on to me. Upon entering, I'm all fired up. Bring on the silly juice barkeep!
Sitting there, bullshitting, getting sick of being a third wheel & making it known. You know, I'm pretty entertaining with some drink in me... especially with all the pent up emotion, etc...Lo and behold...A man I've had my eye on for years sits at the bar. This bad boy, slicked back hair, drunken demeanor, trucker cap... he gets up and mosies over to the juke box.
Unable to control myself, I notice that no woman I've ever known him associated with stands anywhere in this place. Excitement wells up in my body and hurls itself at him. Contact! But he's not bouncing back. All of a sudden his fist is ready to come at me, and he's down on the bench, the bartender is calling..."leave him alone!"
I can't. I won't let this opportunity pass me by. I stand there, and talk him down. Can't let that excitement lose me a chance. It takes me a few minutes to talk him through it. Little did I know that this boy with the big blue eyes & dark greasy hair was broken at the knee... hence, cane. After a good long monologue... we're posted up at the bar having whiskey, talking about how much we've always like eachother, and making out. I am instructed after a while, that it is time to move it on home. I don't ever let go of him. He's coming home with me.
Late that night, in my bed... I must have come down on his knee again... and I end up hurled accross the room. Early that morning, as he rolls off of me, my head rested oh so comfortably on his tattooed arm I moan..."oh my god.. what have I done... I'm in love with a married man". And a sick feeling comes over the room. Mostly because I'm deathly afraid this man is going to pop in on me this morning... (I'm so afraid that I don't even consider much what Sonny thinks about that)....and I have another guy in my bed.
Realizing how sick this feeling is, like an open book in my mind, as if I'm reading about myself and my situation... I get up to make the coffee, get ready for work...Something to ponder as I go about my day... how sick that it really is, how wonderful that arm felt beneath me.
We walk outside... to my truck... I can see the surprise on his face... he's gonna have to tell the boys at the burger shop about this one. I think of him fondly every minute for a whole week as I realize that we haven't exchanged numbers, only shared ourselves. I know what I'm going to have to do. As soon as it's safe, and I've convinced myself thoroughly that it's over, that I've had enough of this entrapment... I have to go to the shop and give him my number. Go in there, not for just a glimpse this time, but for a hook, line and sinker type visit.
7 days later....after much deliberation...
My palms are sweating, and I check my lipstick again in the rearview of the '64 pickup I drive around. The dog licks me on the cheek as I get out to go in. I'm shaking like a burger wrapper in a drunk's hand. I've done it so many times, but never for a purpose... always for a burger and a shake, and a wink if I'm lucky. This time I have the intention....still shaking, I open the door and walk in. Anticipating the eyes of the boys I straighten up and mash my lips together to spread the color. They know who I am. "can I take your order?"... "no" i say, "actually, is Sonny here?".....3 boys in unison.... "Oooooh....Sonny..."
He comes out, I can barely look him in the eye for the blur in my vision from nerves. "I came by to give you my number, you should call me"......he says..."I thought I'd never see you again".....as he goes to get a pen & paper... "I know, you should call me"..... "When?"....."Soon." And that was it.
I turn and begin to walk away... the breath hits my lungs again... and...I'm out the door.... phew.
That evening, there's a different voice on the other end of my phone. One not so demanding... someone asking for me, not demanding my time be open for him. "Hello, Is Shayna Available?"..... "Yes, this is she"......"Hi, this is Sonny, am I calling soon enough for you?".....
Yes, yes, yes! Let's meet, let's get together! I can't wait! Holy shit!
(I turn into a little school girl) It was so exhilerating...But wait, it gets worse....
It's raining cats and dogs as I pull up to where he's house sitting. He's waiting on the porch. Immediate jitter fest. I don't think I've ever been so nervous... I think if we kept it up much longer our teeth would have clattered to the ground. It was as if we were standing in the snow with shorts on. Sitting on the sofa, we can barely even get the words out. And of course there's a lot in common... until we can't take it anymore. And kisses take over. We kiss until the shaking goes away. And as is not my usual mode of operation, we make it shortly thereafter on his friends bed. His friends that come home about five minutes later.
This means we have to go to my house. He stays with a friend in a studio apartment. The only other option is my place. Shit. There is a vein in me of white hot scared.
Shit. I was fine off my own turf. There was no being found that way.
The part of me that didn't give a flying fuck anymore, is the one who drove us back toward my place. I wonder if he felt my fear. Fear that was not altogether misplaced... the headlights I couldn't lose behind me would be a testament to that. Shit. I knew it. It's not even his car... his friend is driving him around to stalk us!
I curse all the way to the bar... no way am I driving home. We get out and he actually calls Sonny out...."I want to talk to you!" Poor Sonny... he had no idea what he'd stepped in with me. Jim calls him down the street... and I protest... I'm yelling at him... "Jim shut up! Leave him out of this!" he yells at me to go away. I can't stand it. I'm so fucking pissed. I guess he had something to say to him. I'm so pissed I can't even handle it... So I go into the bar and order a coupla shots. Fuck it.
My best girlfriend is going out with a guy who painfully resembles Opie... or some form of him in the 21st Century. Two days later, she and Opie visit me in my hovel. (Actually a very nice apt.)I'm still a MCD... My alter ego is sticking with me. Anyhow, not sure how it worked, but it did. The very first mention of the bar by "Opie", and I'm there... or rather, my ego is. Kiss the dog goodbye, and we're out. To the Raven.
There's recently begun this little crack in my interior.... and it's letting out this force to be reckoned with. I can no longer hold on to ideals in my head that won't hang on to me. Upon entering, I'm all fired up. Bring on the silly juice barkeep!
Sitting there, bullshitting, getting sick of being a third wheel & making it known. You know, I'm pretty entertaining with some drink in me... especially with all the pent up emotion, etc...Lo and behold...A man I've had my eye on for years sits at the bar. This bad boy, slicked back hair, drunken demeanor, trucker cap... he gets up and mosies over to the juke box.
Unable to control myself, I notice that no woman I've ever known him associated with stands anywhere in this place. Excitement wells up in my body and hurls itself at him. Contact! But he's not bouncing back. All of a sudden his fist is ready to come at me, and he's down on the bench, the bartender is calling..."leave him alone!"
I can't. I won't let this opportunity pass me by. I stand there, and talk him down. Can't let that excitement lose me a chance. It takes me a few minutes to talk him through it. Little did I know that this boy with the big blue eyes & dark greasy hair was broken at the knee... hence, cane. After a good long monologue... we're posted up at the bar having whiskey, talking about how much we've always like eachother, and making out. I am instructed after a while, that it is time to move it on home. I don't ever let go of him. He's coming home with me.
Late that night, in my bed... I must have come down on his knee again... and I end up hurled accross the room. Early that morning, as he rolls off of me, my head rested oh so comfortably on his tattooed arm I moan..."oh my god.. what have I done... I'm in love with a married man". And a sick feeling comes over the room. Mostly because I'm deathly afraid this man is going to pop in on me this morning... (I'm so afraid that I don't even consider much what Sonny thinks about that)....and I have another guy in my bed.
Realizing how sick this feeling is, like an open book in my mind, as if I'm reading about myself and my situation... I get up to make the coffee, get ready for work...Something to ponder as I go about my day... how sick that it really is, how wonderful that arm felt beneath me.
We walk outside... to my truck... I can see the surprise on his face... he's gonna have to tell the boys at the burger shop about this one. I think of him fondly every minute for a whole week as I realize that we haven't exchanged numbers, only shared ourselves. I know what I'm going to have to do. As soon as it's safe, and I've convinced myself thoroughly that it's over, that I've had enough of this entrapment... I have to go to the shop and give him my number. Go in there, not for just a glimpse this time, but for a hook, line and sinker type visit.
7 days later....after much deliberation...
My palms are sweating, and I check my lipstick again in the rearview of the '64 pickup I drive around. The dog licks me on the cheek as I get out to go in. I'm shaking like a burger wrapper in a drunk's hand. I've done it so many times, but never for a purpose... always for a burger and a shake, and a wink if I'm lucky. This time I have the intention....still shaking, I open the door and walk in. Anticipating the eyes of the boys I straighten up and mash my lips together to spread the color. They know who I am. "can I take your order?"... "no" i say, "actually, is Sonny here?".....3 boys in unison.... "Oooooh....Sonny..."
He comes out, I can barely look him in the eye for the blur in my vision from nerves. "I came by to give you my number, you should call me"......he says..."I thought I'd never see you again".....as he goes to get a pen & paper... "I know, you should call me"..... "When?"....."Soon." And that was it.
I turn and begin to walk away... the breath hits my lungs again... and...I'm out the door.... phew.
That evening, there's a different voice on the other end of my phone. One not so demanding... someone asking for me, not demanding my time be open for him. "Hello, Is Shayna Available?"..... "Yes, this is she"......"Hi, this is Sonny, am I calling soon enough for you?".....
Yes, yes, yes! Let's meet, let's get together! I can't wait! Holy shit!
(I turn into a little school girl) It was so exhilerating...But wait, it gets worse....
It's raining cats and dogs as I pull up to where he's house sitting. He's waiting on the porch. Immediate jitter fest. I don't think I've ever been so nervous... I think if we kept it up much longer our teeth would have clattered to the ground. It was as if we were standing in the snow with shorts on. Sitting on the sofa, we can barely even get the words out. And of course there's a lot in common... until we can't take it anymore. And kisses take over. We kiss until the shaking goes away. And as is not my usual mode of operation, we make it shortly thereafter on his friends bed. His friends that come home about five minutes later.
This means we have to go to my house. He stays with a friend in a studio apartment. The only other option is my place. Shit. There is a vein in me of white hot scared.
Shit. I was fine off my own turf. There was no being found that way.
The part of me that didn't give a flying fuck anymore, is the one who drove us back toward my place. I wonder if he felt my fear. Fear that was not altogether misplaced... the headlights I couldn't lose behind me would be a testament to that. Shit. I knew it. It's not even his car... his friend is driving him around to stalk us!
I curse all the way to the bar... no way am I driving home. We get out and he actually calls Sonny out...."I want to talk to you!" Poor Sonny... he had no idea what he'd stepped in with me. Jim calls him down the street... and I protest... I'm yelling at him... "Jim shut up! Leave him out of this!" he yells at me to go away. I can't stand it. I'm so fucking pissed. I guess he had something to say to him. I'm so pissed I can't even handle it... So I go into the bar and order a coupla shots. Fuck it.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home