Somewhere after her third orgasm and my first we rested for a few minutes. The sex wore down the coke and while my heart was still racing, my eyes were at peace and even my usually grinding jaw was keeping quiet. Audrey's head rested on chest. She rubbed her hands slowly up and down my now sweaty legs and stomach, dragging her nails lightly across the inside of my thighs. If she was hoping for an encore she'd have to wait awhile.
"Really? You need more," I said.
"Oh honey, I always need more."
Those are words one usually likes to hear, but I was actually hoping to just pass out and wake up in a few hours alone realizing that it had all been a dream. Already my usual case of buyer's regret was settling in even as Audrey's sexy nails started stroking me lightly. I couldn't tell if this was my standard post-orgasm guilt settling in or if the magnitude of the years I'd just tossed away was starting to hit me. The only thing I knew for sure was I wasn't going to figure it out right now.
I delicately moved her hand off of me and started to slide out from under her.
"Where are you going sweetie?"
"Just need to use the facilities, I'll be right back."
"You better, I'm not done yet."
This was the problem with being good at it. A luxury problem it's true but still.
I went to the bathroom, shut the door and sat down for a second. I turned on the water to shut out the voices in my head. I rubbed my nose which was hurting big time and then sniffed loudly. Nothing was coming out of me so I flushed and went to the kitchen for a beer. For a second I thought lets stop now. It wasn't the worst slip in the world and you got laid a voice inside me said.
I was just about to put the beer back on the shelf when I heard another voice.
"I'll take one of those too."
I was so lost in my head I hadn't even heard Audrey coming out of the bedroom. She cozied up to me and wrapped her arms around me. I handed her the beer in my hand and bent down to grab another one for myself while she bent a little to grab me.
"Baby, I am not from Havana," I said, quoting "Blazing Saddles."
"Huh?"
"Never mind, will you open these?"
"Sure honey," she said, grabbing them from me and putting them on the counter. "Go rest on the couch, I didn't mean to wear you down so much."
I turned, grabbed her hair and pushed her against the wall. I started to kiss her neck while grinding against her. She started to push back a little and I put my arm around her waist and worked my hand between her thighs. I found the spot and rubbed. She started to moan as I worked a finger inside while my thumb worked her. Her breathing quickened and she let out a soft sign of approval.
I kept it up for about another minute and could feel her getting ready to finish. Just when she was about to I pulled my hand from between her legs, smacked her ass, grabbed the beers and headed to the couch.
"Asshole."
"Just letting you know who's in control," I said plopping down on the couch and grabbing a Marlboro. I fired one up, took a deep drag and blew the smoke out of my nose and winked at her.
"That was the worst wink in the world."
"Yeah, I know. I never really knew how to do it."
It wasn't even really a wink, it was more like someone just squeezed a lemon in your eye. Real sexy."
"Sorry, I'll work on it."
"Oh honey, if you haven't mastered it by now..."
I took a swig of Corona and another drag off the smoke. Audrey came over and stood over me for a second while taking a sip of her beer. Then she leaned down a little and let the beer dribble out of her mouth and onto my chest.
"That could've been your cum but after that last stunt that'll just have to stay a fantasy."
"What makes you think that's my fantasy?"
"It's every guy's fantasy."
"And how many times have you fulfilled it."
"Ha, keep digging reporter boy."
I took another drag and remembered another plus to sobriety -- not having to put up with drunk and high chicks. It was one thing to endure it to get laid, but after it was cruel and inhuman so I did what I used to do under those circumstances. Get more wasted.
I grabbed the powder, cut myself two pretty big lines and snorted them up. The drip was almost instantaneous. I took a swig of beer and a drag off my smoke and could already feel the coughing and puking fits that I thought I'd left behind start. I exhaled quickly and took another sip in the hopes that if I kept everything moving I wouldn't dry heave right in front of her. I'm pretty sure that wasn't her fantasy.
She took a swig of her beer, walked around the table and sat next to me on the couch. She put her beer down, grabbed one of my cigarettes and a pack of matches. She lit her cigarette, leaned back on the couch and stretched her legs across the table and accidentally kicked the bottle which then tipped over and spilled out all over the blow.
"Shit, shit shit," she screamed, grabbing the bottle.
It was too late. What was on the picture frame was now soaked. I didn't know whether to be grateful I'd just done those lines or pissed because I was sure to want more soon.
"Was that all of it?," I asked.
"Fuck," came back at me.
"Guess that answers that question."
She grabbed the matches and scooped up what little dry powder was left. I handed her a CD cover to dump it on.
"Thanks," she muttered. Then she grabbed her purse, fished around for a minute and came up with a little bag that still had some life in it and dumped it on the CD case as well.
At this point we were both thinking the same thing. Who was going to get more of this. Technically it was hers and I already had just bumped up. But this isn't how addicts think. There wasn't enough there for both of us to get through what was left of the night and we suddenly went from coconspirators to mortal enemies.
She chopped herself up a couple of small lines and did them. Then her bag started to vibrate.
"Shit, whose that," she said reaching in for her phone.
"If it's for me, I'm not here," I said.
"Yeah, your cuteness is really starting to wear off. First you don't let me cum and now I'm out of coke. Way to pick them Audrey."
"Hey, you knocked over the beer, not me. Don't pull that shit of blaming everyone other than yourself for what happens."
The phone continued to vibrate.
"Text," she said with a sigh of relief. "It's my Dad's birthday tomorrow. I thought it might be my mom calling to remind me."
"Uh, I thought your Dad was dead."
"He is," she said, "but that doesn't mean I don't have to deal with my Mom about it. Why do you think I'm blowing off all this steam tonight?"
She found the phone and opened up and smiled.
"What?," I asked.
"It's my friend. He's just come into some good stuff and wants to know if I want dibs. What perfect timing."
"The guy you just saw at the hotel?"
"Yeah."
"Does he do that often?"
"Do what often?"
"Call you on his own? Most dealers I know don't call their customers, they wait to be called, especially ones they just sold to a few hours ago."
"I don't know about that. I'm sure he's called me before. Anyway, who cares we need him now."
I couldn't argue with that logic. She started dialing and then waiting. I grabbed the straw and the CD. She gave me a look.
"What? We're getting more," I said as I scooped a little into a straw and gave myself a bump.
"Hey Tino, it's me," she said on the phone. "Good timing. I was just thinking I should stock up." She paused for a minute and then turned to me and mouthed, "what's the address?"
I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote it down and handed it to her.
"Can you bring it to 323 W. 100th Street?," she asked. There was silence and then she said, "oh, well how long then?" More silence. Audrey started shaking her head. "Well, where are you, maybe that'll be easier?"
Then I started shaking my head.
She gave me a shut up look. Then she grabbed the pen and paper and started writing.
"OK. I'll be up there in an hour or so. Thanks, baby."
There was something about the way she said baby that had me wondering whether Audrey always paid with cash but anyway.
"Looks like a road trip," she said while throwing her phone back in the bag.
"Where's he at?"
"116th and First."
"Lovely. Why can't he come here."
"He can't get away for a little awhile. He's waiting for someone else to come by for their package."
"How long have you been using, what's his name, Tino?
"About three years, he's totally safe."
"Oh yeah, these guys always are."
"So don't come then," she said getting up and going into the bedroom.
"Where you going?"
"I thought I'd put my panties on for the trip across town."
"Good, I was worried about that."
"Fuck you."
I finished my beer while she got dressed. Then I chopped up what we had left and headed to the bedroom as well to get dressed.
She already had a dress back on and was sliding into her heels. I wouldn't have minded a shower.
"After we get it, maybe we can go down to my place," she said.
"Sure."
I put on my pants, grabbed a black t-shirt and leather jacket and hoped I looked at least a little intimidating. I went into the kitchen and into the silverware drawer where I had a butterfly knife my brother had given me years ago. I'd never used it or even fully mastered how to open it. I had no idea what I was thinking but I jammed it in my pocket.
Audrey came out, walked over to the table and noticed the nicely cut presentation I left.
"Oh how nice," she said before snorting up six of the eight lines.
"Thanks for leaving me some," I said before finishing it off and licking the case.
She grabbed her jacket while I grabbed some bottles of beer out of the fridge and threw them in her purse. Then we headed out the door.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
No Dog Did That
My first home in D.C. was Woodley Park Towers, a big apartment building with two wings, long halls, a huge lobby, and even a gym and steam room. It was right near the zoo.
We moved there from Jersey in the summer of 1979. One night I was taking out the trash and in the garbage room on my floor I found a copy of Penthouse. The light bulb in my head immediately went off and I begin to search the garbage rooms on a regular basis. This was no small task. Each floor had two garbage rooms on either end and the building had something like eight floors (D.C. has pretty strict zoning laws on height so for the nation's capital it was a huge place).
There was also the trash compactor room in the basement to scrounge through as well. This was pretty much what I did every night. Every now and then I'd find a Playboy or Hustler but most of the time the best I could do was a Cosmopolitan or Glamour. Don't laugh, there was plenty of whack material in there for a 14 year-old boy. I still remember an issue of Cosmo with a pictorial on how to have a midday quickie.
One night I'm making the rounds and I'm pretty far from my apartment when nature calls. This was not about taking a leak. Something much more severe was brewing inside my stomach and intestines and needed to get out. My mom was never much of a cook and who knows what she whipped up but I calculated the odds and quickly realized there was no way I would make it back to my apartment in time to do what had to be done. Not only was I on the other side of the building, but for all intents and purpose there was only one bathroom in our place. My parents bathroom was off limits and I shared a room with my brother. My Dad also made free use of our bathroom too so there was no guarantee that even if I did get back there with clenched cheeks that I'd be home free.
I was near the roof though. I grabbed some newspapers from the garbage room I was in and headed up the stairs. There was no alarm on the door (ah, sweet seventies) but it did lock from the outside so I jammed some of the papers in the door and kept the rest for myself. I walked out on the roof, found what I thought was an appropriately secluded place, crouched down, and did what had to be done. Then I cleaned up as best I could and headed back to my apartment.
A few days later I'm walking through the lobby and one of the security guards I was buddies with motions me over.
Me: "Yeah, what's up?"
Guard; "You been up on the roof?"
Me: (acting surprised) "No, I don't go on the roof."
Guard: "You sure you weren't up on the roof the other night."
Me: No, I haven't been on the roof. Why?
Guard:" Someone took a big shit up there."
Me: (trying to hold back laughter) "What?"
Guard: "You heard me. Someone to a shit on the roof."
Me: "Well, it wasn't me, I swear."
Guard: "That's nasty man."
Me: "I'm telling you it wasn't me. Maybe it was a dog."
Guard: "No dog did that."
He had a point.
Alas, while that was the first time I had to take my business to the outdoors, it wouldn't be the last. Next time I'll tell you about the time I had to pull off a Laurel Canyon onto a side street and hide behind my car after the coffee at the party I was at worked its magic a lot faster that I thought it would.
We moved there from Jersey in the summer of 1979. One night I was taking out the trash and in the garbage room on my floor I found a copy of Penthouse. The light bulb in my head immediately went off and I begin to search the garbage rooms on a regular basis. This was no small task. Each floor had two garbage rooms on either end and the building had something like eight floors (D.C. has pretty strict zoning laws on height so for the nation's capital it was a huge place).
There was also the trash compactor room in the basement to scrounge through as well. This was pretty much what I did every night. Every now and then I'd find a Playboy or Hustler but most of the time the best I could do was a Cosmopolitan or Glamour. Don't laugh, there was plenty of whack material in there for a 14 year-old boy. I still remember an issue of Cosmo with a pictorial on how to have a midday quickie.
One night I'm making the rounds and I'm pretty far from my apartment when nature calls. This was not about taking a leak. Something much more severe was brewing inside my stomach and intestines and needed to get out. My mom was never much of a cook and who knows what she whipped up but I calculated the odds and quickly realized there was no way I would make it back to my apartment in time to do what had to be done. Not only was I on the other side of the building, but for all intents and purpose there was only one bathroom in our place. My parents bathroom was off limits and I shared a room with my brother. My Dad also made free use of our bathroom too so there was no guarantee that even if I did get back there with clenched cheeks that I'd be home free.
I was near the roof though. I grabbed some newspapers from the garbage room I was in and headed up the stairs. There was no alarm on the door (ah, sweet seventies) but it did lock from the outside so I jammed some of the papers in the door and kept the rest for myself. I walked out on the roof, found what I thought was an appropriately secluded place, crouched down, and did what had to be done. Then I cleaned up as best I could and headed back to my apartment.
A few days later I'm walking through the lobby and one of the security guards I was buddies with motions me over.
Me: "Yeah, what's up?"
Guard; "You been up on the roof?"
Me: (acting surprised) "No, I don't go on the roof."
Guard: "You sure you weren't up on the roof the other night."
Me: No, I haven't been on the roof. Why?
Guard:" Someone took a big shit up there."
Me: (trying to hold back laughter) "What?"
Guard: "You heard me. Someone to a shit on the roof."
Me: "Well, it wasn't me, I swear."
Guard: "That's nasty man."
Me: "I'm telling you it wasn't me. Maybe it was a dog."
Guard: "No dog did that."
He had a point.
Alas, while that was the first time I had to take my business to the outdoors, it wouldn't be the last. Next time I'll tell you about the time I had to pull off a Laurel Canyon onto a side street and hide behind my car after the coffee at the party I was at worked its magic a lot faster that I thought it would.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Long Time To Burn
Always been there if I needed anything
Never knew how to ask if you were OK
Now you've got darkness ahead
And I can't do a thing
Never been as close as we should have been
Together alone but not alone together
Doesn't mean the blood isn't there
And when yours spills, I'll feel it too
Know you're scared of that knife
Too strong though to be stopped now
And when the wounds close and heal
We'll be there too because that's what's real
Don't know how to love
Never really learned how to live
But I know who has a light in their heart
That still has a long time to burn
Never knew how to ask if you were OK
Now you've got darkness ahead
And I can't do a thing
Never been as close as we should have been
Together alone but not alone together
Doesn't mean the blood isn't there
And when yours spills, I'll feel it too
Know you're scared of that knife
Too strong though to be stopped now
And when the wounds close and heal
We'll be there too because that's what's real
Don't know how to love
Never really learned how to live
But I know who has a light in their heart
That still has a long time to burn
Friday, August 21, 2009
So Why Aren't I Writing More?
Got no excuse for keeping the words inside. Yeah, I work hard. I start writing for work at 5:30 every morning. By the time I get home, it's usually 8:30 or 9 p.m. I eat, watch TV, waste time on the Internet (yes, you know what that means) and then crash. Then I do it all over again.
I've also been working the past few weekends too. For a guy in midlife crisis I still have something left in the tank.
But I need to be doing this shit too. I need to decide what happens to Audrey in the story. Does she get held for ransom by some Washington Heights dealers. Does she OD? Does she just disappear and leave our protagonist to the wreckage of his soul (yes, I'm quoting an old CK commercial!). Where is this story going to go? Only way to figure that out is to actually sit and focus.
And I will. I promise. I'm reaching that point. Doing this stupid little post before I go to bed is a good sign that I know what needs to be done. Of course, I'm also trying to date. Nothing much to report there yet, but maybe some news coming up. Social life is also fairly active for a workaholic who only moved back here four months ago. As I've said before, definitely glad I'm back and no regrets about leaving NYC.
OK. Going to bed but I'm thinking of you and the words and the story and life and love and hate and death and escape and everything that can be thrown at me that doesn't matter and the few things that do.
Rambler out!
I've also been working the past few weekends too. For a guy in midlife crisis I still have something left in the tank.
But I need to be doing this shit too. I need to decide what happens to Audrey in the story. Does she get held for ransom by some Washington Heights dealers. Does she OD? Does she just disappear and leave our protagonist to the wreckage of his soul (yes, I'm quoting an old CK commercial!). Where is this story going to go? Only way to figure that out is to actually sit and focus.
And I will. I promise. I'm reaching that point. Doing this stupid little post before I go to bed is a good sign that I know what needs to be done. Of course, I'm also trying to date. Nothing much to report there yet, but maybe some news coming up. Social life is also fairly active for a workaholic who only moved back here four months ago. As I've said before, definitely glad I'm back and no regrets about leaving NYC.
OK. Going to bed but I'm thinking of you and the words and the story and life and love and hate and death and escape and everything that can be thrown at me that doesn't matter and the few things that do.
Rambler out!
I'm Still Here
With some thoughts to share...
Just have this moment to hold
The rest will have to be let go
Can't keep chasing what can't be caught
Won't let my life be for naught.
Long days bleed into short nights
Try to get strength and find light
Someone there to make me tick
Or is it up to me to provide the fix
Just have this moment to hold
The rest will have to be let go
Can't keep chasing what can't be caught
Won't let my life be for naught.
Long days bleed into short nights
Try to get strength and find light
Someone there to make me tick
Or is it up to me to provide the fix
Sunday, August 2, 2009
She's Nothing But Trouble VI
As we walked down 100th and approached West End Avenue I saw a kid get into a car and take off down the street. The car stopped about half-a-block later and the kid got out and started walking back towards 100th Street.
"See Audrey, that's how you do a drug deal."
"What are you talking about, I didn't see anything."
"Exactly," I said.
"You're weird."
As we crossed the street I saw the Americana delivery guy peddling up from Riverside.
"There's my beer," I said letting go of her hand and walking faster.
"Wow. Hold my hand or run to meet the Dominican delivery boy with beer. That was a real tough choice for you, huh?"
"He's Ecuadorian but anyway."
It wasn't the first time I'd heard that one although the last time I had heard it I had vowed it would be the last time I'd heard it. Oh well, so much for vows.
I caught up just as he was locking his bike to the fence in front of the brownstone next to my building which once had been a brownstone but had long been converted into something uglier.
"Hey I'll save you the trip upstairs," I said pulling out a twenty from my wallet.
"It's twenty eight," he said.
"You're kidding me."
"No. the cerveza was twenty and the smokes are eight."
"Jeez, the cost of excess has gone up."
I was met with a blank stare as I looked into my wallet and saw I only had a five left. The cab had cost thirteen dollars.
"Hey sweetie, you got ten dollars I can borrow?," I asked as Audrey walked up.
She fumbled through her purse and pulled out her wallet, fished out a $10 and punched me in the arm.
"You're some kind of catch," she sighed. "Leave me on the corner to run after your booze and then borrow money from me to pay for it. Can't believe you're not taken yet."
"Hey sweetie, I just can't be tamed." I couldn't believe I just used such a lame line but for some reason it seemed to work because then she ran her hand through my hair as she handed the delivery guy her money.
"Keep it," I said, picking up the bag of beer and cigs off of the sidewalk with one hand while I put my other arm around Audrey's waist and headed to my door.
"It's four flights up," I said.
"You're kidding. How poor are you?"
"What, because I don't live in some elevator doorman building I'm not worthy."
"I didn't say that, I just asked how poor you were?'
"Oh, well I'm pretty poor."
I actually wasn't. I'd manage to sock away a lot of money over the past three years. As much as I hated the job, it paid well. And since I'd stop blowing all my money on substances and women to do them with I'd replenished my savings account. My apartment was kind of dumpy but a good deal for this part of the city. I was thinking though that maybe I'd be able to buy something soon if the economy kept tanking.
But none of that was on my mind right now. I need to get upstairs and get this over with fast. As we walked up the first few steps, Audrey stopped, lifted up her leg and took off a heel and then did the same with the other. I grabbed her shoes and said they were going back on her as soon as we got back in the apartment.
"That's fine freak but I'm not walking up these rickety old stairs in my Gucci heels."
"Gucci? I thought the were CFMs."
"Not for you they aren't."
We got to my door and I put the bag down and then put her shoes in the bag and turned around to face her. She looked at me confused and I leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back shoving me hard against the door and biting my lip while I slipped my hand under her dress and up her thigh only to discover she wasn't wearing anything and was already a little moist.
"Wow, wasn't expecting that," I said.
"Just open the fucking door," she said grinding against me.
I turned around and got my keys out of my front pocket, which was trickier than it would've been a few minutes earlier. But soon enough I had the door opened and we walked in. My cats were eagerly waiting as always but as soon as they saw Audrey they disappeared under the bed.
Poor cats. After three years of tranquility it was back to the craziness.
"What are their names?'
"`Annoying' and `More Annoying,'" I said.
"Don't be a jerk, they look sweet."
"Their names are Leopold and Loeb."
"Oh you're kidding."
"Nope."
"What are we going to do with you?"
"We're going to sit on the couch, have a drink, get out your treats and hang out for awhile."
I led her to the couch. She sat down, crossed her legs and didn't seem to mind the way her skirt rode up her thigh.
I pulled the beer out of the bag, took out a bottle, a lime, and the smokes and put the rest in the fridge. Then i grabbed her bag and took out the whiskey and filled a glass with ice and poured her one. I opened my my beer, cut off a big slice of lime and jammed it into the Corona. Then I took the drinks to the table, went back to the kitchen -- a move that took all of three seconds -- and went into the cabinet above the stove and brought down a small picture frame that would serve as my chopping block. Then I grabbed a straw and an old ashtray from the silverware drawer.
I went back to the couch and sat next to Audrey. She motioned to the little white bag on the table and I opened it and dumped a bunch on the picture frame then went back to the kitchen to fish out the razors. This was a really tedious process but I was a man of ritual. I sat back down and started chopping up the coke.
"It's already cut," she said.
"Not enough," I replied.
"Sorry Tony Montana."
What can I say. It had been three years since I'd had blow and I wanted it just right. There was something about chopping that I enjoyed. Making the lumpy product finer and finer until it looked like flour rather than salt. I chopped, used a farecard to make piles and then I chopped again. I then made some little lines.
"Uh, they can be bigger you know" Audrey said.
"And they will be bigger, but I want to start a little slow. It's been awhile for me," I said.
"What's a while?," she asked.
"I don't know, a few months." Like I said, I didn't want her knowing about my clean living.
"What about you," I asked.
"Uh, this morning and it's going to take more than that little trail to get me going so spill some more on there cowboy. It's not like you're paying for it."
"I'll be paying for it in ways you'll never know," I muttered.
"What?," she said.
I"ll help pay," I said.
She grabbed the frame put the straw to her nostril and did all four of the lines, sniffed hard and put the frame back down. Then she took a swig of her whiskey, grabbed a Marlboro and lit up. She inhaled deeply and then blew the smoke out of her nose, which for some reason always turned me on.
"What are you waiting for?" she asked.
I was wondering that myself. I took a swig of my beer and it hit me hard. I fired up my own smoke and immediately my head was spinning. I sat back waiting for my head to settle. Audrey took that moment to lean back and stretch her legs across my lap. She felt my appreciation for that move and ground her barefoot into me slowly.
Well, it was now or never. I rubbed her leg for a second and then grabbed the frame. I looked at it and looked at her and then back at it. Then I grabbed the straw and stuck it into the pile and then dumped it onto her leg. I grabbed the farecard and made a long line between her knee and ankle. I then grabbed the straw and did the blow and followed that by licking the residue off her leg.
It hit me, but not as hard as I thought it would although the drip was already there. I took a drag of my smoke and the cigarette mixed with the coke and it was like doing another line.
"That was actually kind of hot," she said.
"Well, I'll be doing it again," I promised, putting the smoke back in the ashtray.
"Cool," she said, lifting one leg up for me to kiss again, which I did. And then I kept kissing, traveling north until I was between her thighs and she was pushing my face down into her.
"See Audrey, that's how you do a drug deal."
"What are you talking about, I didn't see anything."
"Exactly," I said.
"You're weird."
As we crossed the street I saw the Americana delivery guy peddling up from Riverside.
"There's my beer," I said letting go of her hand and walking faster.
"Wow. Hold my hand or run to meet the Dominican delivery boy with beer. That was a real tough choice for you, huh?"
"He's Ecuadorian but anyway."
It wasn't the first time I'd heard that one although the last time I had heard it I had vowed it would be the last time I'd heard it. Oh well, so much for vows.
I caught up just as he was locking his bike to the fence in front of the brownstone next to my building which once had been a brownstone but had long been converted into something uglier.
"Hey I'll save you the trip upstairs," I said pulling out a twenty from my wallet.
"It's twenty eight," he said.
"You're kidding me."
"No. the cerveza was twenty and the smokes are eight."
"Jeez, the cost of excess has gone up."
I was met with a blank stare as I looked into my wallet and saw I only had a five left. The cab had cost thirteen dollars.
"Hey sweetie, you got ten dollars I can borrow?," I asked as Audrey walked up.
She fumbled through her purse and pulled out her wallet, fished out a $10 and punched me in the arm.
"You're some kind of catch," she sighed. "Leave me on the corner to run after your booze and then borrow money from me to pay for it. Can't believe you're not taken yet."
"Hey sweetie, I just can't be tamed." I couldn't believe I just used such a lame line but for some reason it seemed to work because then she ran her hand through my hair as she handed the delivery guy her money.
"Keep it," I said, picking up the bag of beer and cigs off of the sidewalk with one hand while I put my other arm around Audrey's waist and headed to my door.
"It's four flights up," I said.
"You're kidding. How poor are you?"
"What, because I don't live in some elevator doorman building I'm not worthy."
"I didn't say that, I just asked how poor you were?'
"Oh, well I'm pretty poor."
I actually wasn't. I'd manage to sock away a lot of money over the past three years. As much as I hated the job, it paid well. And since I'd stop blowing all my money on substances and women to do them with I'd replenished my savings account. My apartment was kind of dumpy but a good deal for this part of the city. I was thinking though that maybe I'd be able to buy something soon if the economy kept tanking.
But none of that was on my mind right now. I need to get upstairs and get this over with fast. As we walked up the first few steps, Audrey stopped, lifted up her leg and took off a heel and then did the same with the other. I grabbed her shoes and said they were going back on her as soon as we got back in the apartment.
"That's fine freak but I'm not walking up these rickety old stairs in my Gucci heels."
"Gucci? I thought the were CFMs."
"Not for you they aren't."
We got to my door and I put the bag down and then put her shoes in the bag and turned around to face her. She looked at me confused and I leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back shoving me hard against the door and biting my lip while I slipped my hand under her dress and up her thigh only to discover she wasn't wearing anything and was already a little moist.
"Wow, wasn't expecting that," I said.
"Just open the fucking door," she said grinding against me.
I turned around and got my keys out of my front pocket, which was trickier than it would've been a few minutes earlier. But soon enough I had the door opened and we walked in. My cats were eagerly waiting as always but as soon as they saw Audrey they disappeared under the bed.
Poor cats. After three years of tranquility it was back to the craziness.
"What are their names?'
"`Annoying' and `More Annoying,'" I said.
"Don't be a jerk, they look sweet."
"Their names are Leopold and Loeb."
"Oh you're kidding."
"Nope."
"What are we going to do with you?"
"We're going to sit on the couch, have a drink, get out your treats and hang out for awhile."
I led her to the couch. She sat down, crossed her legs and didn't seem to mind the way her skirt rode up her thigh.
I pulled the beer out of the bag, took out a bottle, a lime, and the smokes and put the rest in the fridge. Then i grabbed her bag and took out the whiskey and filled a glass with ice and poured her one. I opened my my beer, cut off a big slice of lime and jammed it into the Corona. Then I took the drinks to the table, went back to the kitchen -- a move that took all of three seconds -- and went into the cabinet above the stove and brought down a small picture frame that would serve as my chopping block. Then I grabbed a straw and an old ashtray from the silverware drawer.
I went back to the couch and sat next to Audrey. She motioned to the little white bag on the table and I opened it and dumped a bunch on the picture frame then went back to the kitchen to fish out the razors. This was a really tedious process but I was a man of ritual. I sat back down and started chopping up the coke.
"It's already cut," she said.
"Not enough," I replied.
"Sorry Tony Montana."
What can I say. It had been three years since I'd had blow and I wanted it just right. There was something about chopping that I enjoyed. Making the lumpy product finer and finer until it looked like flour rather than salt. I chopped, used a farecard to make piles and then I chopped again. I then made some little lines.
"Uh, they can be bigger you know" Audrey said.
"And they will be bigger, but I want to start a little slow. It's been awhile for me," I said.
"What's a while?," she asked.
"I don't know, a few months." Like I said, I didn't want her knowing about my clean living.
"What about you," I asked.
"Uh, this morning and it's going to take more than that little trail to get me going so spill some more on there cowboy. It's not like you're paying for it."
"I'll be paying for it in ways you'll never know," I muttered.
"What?," she said.
I"ll help pay," I said.
She grabbed the frame put the straw to her nostril and did all four of the lines, sniffed hard and put the frame back down. Then she took a swig of her whiskey, grabbed a Marlboro and lit up. She inhaled deeply and then blew the smoke out of her nose, which for some reason always turned me on.
"What are you waiting for?" she asked.
I was wondering that myself. I took a swig of my beer and it hit me hard. I fired up my own smoke and immediately my head was spinning. I sat back waiting for my head to settle. Audrey took that moment to lean back and stretch her legs across my lap. She felt my appreciation for that move and ground her barefoot into me slowly.
Well, it was now or never. I rubbed her leg for a second and then grabbed the frame. I looked at it and looked at her and then back at it. Then I grabbed the straw and stuck it into the pile and then dumped it onto her leg. I grabbed the farecard and made a long line between her knee and ankle. I then grabbed the straw and did the blow and followed that by licking the residue off her leg.
It hit me, but not as hard as I thought it would although the drip was already there. I took a drag of my smoke and the cigarette mixed with the coke and it was like doing another line.
"That was actually kind of hot," she said.
"Well, I'll be doing it again," I promised, putting the smoke back in the ashtray.
"Cool," she said, lifting one leg up for me to kiss again, which I did. And then I kept kissing, traveling north until I was between her thighs and she was pushing my face down into her.
She's Nothing But Trouble V
It didn't take long to get to my place. Once the cab got past the old Needle Park on 72nd where Broadway and Amsterdam converge it was smooth sailing.
Around 90th I called Americana Deli and ordered 16 bottles of Corona and two packs of Marlboros and then asked Audrey if she wanted anything.
"Uh, you mean that's just for you?"
"Well ... if you want some then of course but I just assumed you weren't a beer and blow girl."
"A beer and what girl? My we're feeling cocky."
"Not what I meant but anyway ... yeah they'll be some cocky feeling too I'm sure."
"Do you have any whisky at your place?"
I didn't have any anything at my place. The guy at Americana was actually surprised to hear me ordering beer after such a long layoff. When I first got clean it took about six months for him to stop asking if I wanted Corona when I would call in an order.
We got out at 100th and Broadway and walked towards 101st. I sent Audrey into the liquor store to get what she needed while I crossed the street to the little Korean deli to get limes. It was one of those annoying little inconveniences of living in the city. One deli had the beer and the other one had the limes. All I know is we had about ten minutes to get our shit and get to my place before the delivery guy from Americana would be showing up.
I brought a couple of limes to the register and spotted some old fashioned razor blades across the counter and asked for pack. I liked my blow real fine and got a kick out of chopping it up all nice and neat. I handed the cashier a $10 and waited for my change while listening to the classical music that the Koreans who ran this deli always had playing.
After I got my two dollars back I glanced across the street to see Audrey coming out of liquor store and looking up and down the street. I was about to cross when I heard my name.
"Hey man, what's up?"
Shit. It was Jason Hogue, an AA pal. The nightmare of every recovering addict was happening to me, I was going to get caught red-handed in the middle of a slip.
"Hey Jason, where you headed?"
"Down to 96th Street, you coming?"
That would be the 6 p.m. meeting at the little room on 96th Street between Broadway and Amsterdam. It was part of the church there and they had about five meetings a day. Unlike the other Upper Westside AA meetings which were full of beautiful upper class white drunks, 96th Street attracted a more urban crowd of crackheads and old time ghetto boozers. It was definitely good for a change of pace. If I were smart I would've dropped everything, figured God put Jason in front of me for a reason and gone with him.
But God also put Audrey and her heels and black hair in front of me as well and since she was the first hand that was dealt I figured I better play that one now and worry about the next hand after this one was done.
"Uh, yeah, no not headed there. Maybe I'll catch you tomorrow at 70th," I said looking at Audrey and then back to Jason.
"You ok?"
"Yeah, why?
"I don't know, seem kind of anxious."
"I'm always anxious," I said looking away for a second to see Audrey coming across the street towards me. Shit, I hope she wasn't thinking threesome. At least her booze was in the bag. Of course, at that exact moment I also saw the Americana delivery man walking out with my order but he also had a few other deliveries with him so hopefully I wouldn't be the first stop.
"Hey, did you get what you need," Audrey said as she approached the two of us.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good to go."
"Hi, I'm Audrey," Audrey said holding out her hand to Jason's, who shook it hit while smiling to himself. Good, he just thinks I'm getting laid.
"Oh, I'm sorry this is my friend Jason."
"Nice to meet you, Jason"
"You too, Audrey."
I turned to Jason and smiled. He nodded although he then glanced down to the bag Audrey was carrying which clearly had bottles in it. Oh well, just because she was drinking didn't mean I was.
"Hey, I'll give you a call tomorrow and we'll do something," I said to Jason.
"Yeah, that would be good. Lets meet tomorrow," he said, putting the emphasis on "meet."
"Sure, sounds good," I said grabbing Audrey's hand and walking off.
"He was cute. Who is he?" she asked.
"Just a friend," I said, adding, "don't get any ideas."
"What ideas?, I don't know who you think I am but, I think your fantasy version of me is a lot more fun than the real one."
"We'll find out soon enough," I said as we started down 100th Street towards Riverside Drive.
Around 90th I called Americana Deli and ordered 16 bottles of Corona and two packs of Marlboros and then asked Audrey if she wanted anything.
"Uh, you mean that's just for you?"
"Well ... if you want some then of course but I just assumed you weren't a beer and blow girl."
"A beer and what girl? My we're feeling cocky."
"Not what I meant but anyway ... yeah they'll be some cocky feeling too I'm sure."
"Do you have any whisky at your place?"
I didn't have any anything at my place. The guy at Americana was actually surprised to hear me ordering beer after such a long layoff. When I first got clean it took about six months for him to stop asking if I wanted Corona when I would call in an order.
We got out at 100th and Broadway and walked towards 101st. I sent Audrey into the liquor store to get what she needed while I crossed the street to the little Korean deli to get limes. It was one of those annoying little inconveniences of living in the city. One deli had the beer and the other one had the limes. All I know is we had about ten minutes to get our shit and get to my place before the delivery guy from Americana would be showing up.
I brought a couple of limes to the register and spotted some old fashioned razor blades across the counter and asked for pack. I liked my blow real fine and got a kick out of chopping it up all nice and neat. I handed the cashier a $10 and waited for my change while listening to the classical music that the Koreans who ran this deli always had playing.
After I got my two dollars back I glanced across the street to see Audrey coming out of liquor store and looking up and down the street. I was about to cross when I heard my name.
"Hey man, what's up?"
Shit. It was Jason Hogue, an AA pal. The nightmare of every recovering addict was happening to me, I was going to get caught red-handed in the middle of a slip.
"Hey Jason, where you headed?"
"Down to 96th Street, you coming?"
That would be the 6 p.m. meeting at the little room on 96th Street between Broadway and Amsterdam. It was part of the church there and they had about five meetings a day. Unlike the other Upper Westside AA meetings which were full of beautiful upper class white drunks, 96th Street attracted a more urban crowd of crackheads and old time ghetto boozers. It was definitely good for a change of pace. If I were smart I would've dropped everything, figured God put Jason in front of me for a reason and gone with him.
But God also put Audrey and her heels and black hair in front of me as well and since she was the first hand that was dealt I figured I better play that one now and worry about the next hand after this one was done.
"Uh, yeah, no not headed there. Maybe I'll catch you tomorrow at 70th," I said looking at Audrey and then back to Jason.
"You ok?"
"Yeah, why?
"I don't know, seem kind of anxious."
"I'm always anxious," I said looking away for a second to see Audrey coming across the street towards me. Shit, I hope she wasn't thinking threesome. At least her booze was in the bag. Of course, at that exact moment I also saw the Americana delivery man walking out with my order but he also had a few other deliveries with him so hopefully I wouldn't be the first stop.
"Hey, did you get what you need," Audrey said as she approached the two of us.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good to go."
"Hi, I'm Audrey," Audrey said holding out her hand to Jason's, who shook it hit while smiling to himself. Good, he just thinks I'm getting laid.
"Oh, I'm sorry this is my friend Jason."
"Nice to meet you, Jason"
"You too, Audrey."
I turned to Jason and smiled. He nodded although he then glanced down to the bag Audrey was carrying which clearly had bottles in it. Oh well, just because she was drinking didn't mean I was.
"Hey, I'll give you a call tomorrow and we'll do something," I said to Jason.
"Yeah, that would be good. Lets meet tomorrow," he said, putting the emphasis on "meet."
"Sure, sounds good," I said grabbing Audrey's hand and walking off.
"He was cute. Who is he?" she asked.
"Just a friend," I said, adding, "don't get any ideas."
"What ideas?, I don't know who you think I am but, I think your fantasy version of me is a lot more fun than the real one."
"We'll find out soon enough," I said as we started down 100th Street towards Riverside Drive.
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