Ramblings from the Back Row

Almost Time

2012-01-28T18:01:00.002-05:00

Starting to realize there's something more to this game.
A life spent writing about other lives is no life.
Stuck bent over a computer all day.
With nothing but a little pay to show for it.

Almost at the point that I'd rather write for myself for free.
I'd rather use my words for my way.
Use my words and see if I can't make them pay.
Rather play that play.

Another year has gone by me.
Don't want to be 70 and full of regrets
Reading a bunch of old clips that didn't mean shit.
Better to take a shot at doing my thing.

Could fall flat on my face.
Rather do that than look back with shame.
At myself for all I didn't do.
And all the time I wasted.

Chasing someone else's life while wasting mine.

My Own Making

2011-12-24T02:18:00.002-05:00

Not sure why that cut doesn't heal
Maybe because I keep pulling off the scab
The wound doesn't even bleed any more
And I'm not sure what it is I'm not trying to feel

Keep digging deep
There's nothing left to pull out
Keep squeezing that wound
There's nothing there to come out

Tired of feeling so tired
Keep driving down the same road
Can't keep my eyes open
And yet I'm still wired

Would reach for a drink but that's no more
Would love a smoke but those days are gone
Would take a pill but the bottle's empty

So here I sit in another moment of my own making.

Soon I Promise

2011-10-22T02:33:00.004-04:00

Drove home down Laurel Canyon late at night with Californication playing. Might have been a cliche but it felt like a moment to me.

I know I've been away too long. I spend all day cranking crap for work. By the time I get home I'm too tired to crank for myself even though I'm the one that matters and it's what I do here that will ultimately bring me satisfaction.

Anyway, there is no reason to believe, but I do intend to get back into this space.

I just need to figure out how.

I have all night -- part four

2011-08-11T01:37:00.002-04:00

I slept most of the day away. When I wasn't sleeping, I was crapping. Beer, blow and smokes do that to me. Around 4 p.m. I decided to get out and get some air and blow the stink and funk off me. I grabbed my laundry and headed to the place on 104th between Broadway and Amsterdam.

Fortunately I picked a good time. The place was pretty empty and I had my pick of the washers. I snagged one near the front and got some quarters from the woman behind the counter. While she was getting me my change her little girl came out from behind the counter with a ball she was bouncing. It slipped out of her hand and rolled over to me. I picked it up and held it out to her but she took a look at me and ran back behind the counter to her mother. Smart girl. She could smell satan on me.

I handed her mom the ball and headed back to my machine. After I dumped the Tide in and some Clorox 2, I pushed the quarters in and closed the lid and waited. A few seconds later I threw my clothes in and then headed out the door. I needed grease and there was only one place to go -- Sal and Carmine's.

There was no line which was rare for a Saturday. I got one cheese and one pepperoni. I didn't want them heated up. Sal and Carmine's was best lukewarm. I wolfed down the slices while reading a Daily News that someone left on the counter. The headlines screamed about a Columbia coed who was raped on 114th and Riverside the other night. It was the third rape in or around Riverside Park in the last couple months and everyone was starting to get paranoid. The story said she'd been at Cannon's, a bar I frequented often at Broadway and 107th. She'd last been seen leaving with a guy who the police had not hunted down yet.

I skipped the rest of the story and moved to the letters to the editor page which were full of the usual rants. Then I hit the sports section before finishing my meal and hitting the deli at 101st for a cup of coffee. Then I headed back to the laundry and put my clothes in the dryer and took a nap in the back on one of the chairs. When I woke up, the clothes were dry and I threw them back into my bag. Usually, I folded them there. I'm a creature of habit. This time I took them home and threw them and myself on the bed.

The pizza and coffee had lifted most of the hangover. The crash wasn't that bad this time. I figured I'd stay in and watch TV, but around 9 p.m. I got antsy and remembered that I still had some beer and other goodies. Normally, I didn't indulge two nights in a row, but I figured I was on a roll and when you get on a streak you keep playing.

I have all night -- part three

2011-08-10T01:24:00.002-04:00

I got woken up by the garbage trucks making the Saturday pickup. I always thought it was cruel and inhumane to pick up garbage at 7 a.m. on a Saturday but numerous calls to the 3-1-1 line to suggest an alternate day had fallen on deaf ears.

The first thing I noticed when my eyes opened was that I was still on the roof. My pants were back on and there were scattered beer bottles all over the place. The next thing I noticed was that I was alone. Then begin to wonder if I was alone the whole time and everything from the night before -- most importantly the blowjob -- had been a figment of my imagination.

I pushed myself up and looked around the roof. At my feet, a bottle of Corona still had some life in it. I'm not a morning drinker. I had always used that as proof that I wasn't a real alcoholic. Of course, I conveniently overlooked the fact that I usually went to sleep around 5 a.m. when making that assessment.

This time though I made an exception to my rule and took a swig. Then I took out my pack of cigarettes and was relieved to see I still had four left, which would get me through the next couple hours. I lit one and started to put the pack back in my pocket when I figured a little extra jolt before my morning coffee couldn't hurt.

I walked over to the door thinking about the night before and her red hair and stockings that were torn from the ground on the roof. I got to the door and there was note under a rock in front of it that said, "Until next time, Dani." I was also glad to see she left the door ajar because I really wasn't up to trying to climb down the roof and onto a neighbor's fire escape.

Not wanting to be a complete pig, I walked back over to where the damage had been done and grabbed the empties and put them in the shopping bag. Then I finished my smoke and grounded it out on the roof.

I made my way back down the stairs with both the empties and the four bottles we didn't get at. I walked into my apartment, put the beer in the fridge and the garbage by the door. I tried to remember what else happened on the roof and when she might have left and, most importantly, how I was going to find her again.

I have all night -- Part Two

2011-08-09T00:50:00.004-04:00

Two hours later and we're stumbling up the five flights to my one bedroom. On the third floor, she took off her heels and ran past me. I was not going to chase after her. Somehow I didn't think the sight of me wheezing up the last two flights after her would be an aphrodisiac. Plus, I had two six packs in a bag and I was more concerned about their safe arrival than I was my own.

"Hey," she yelled.

"Yeah," I said back.

"Is the roof open?"

"Don't know, never tried it."

I heard her give a hard push followed by a little shout of glee. I guess that sign promising a loud alarm was a croc.

"No alarm?," I asked while climbing up the last flight of stairs to the roof.

"Guess not," she said.

"What if there had been?"

"We'd be running back to your apartment."

I walked up to the landing, pushed her heels to the corner and went out on to the roof. It was dark and I'd never been up here before. It had a pretty good view of east, west, and north but not south. My building was on 105th between West End and Riverside and the big buildings on the south side of the street limited the view to a few other hi-rises and, off in the distance, the Empire State Building.

But uptown hasn't been totally destroyed and the moon was bright. It was cold on the roof but not too windy. I grabbed a couple of Coronas out of the bag and popped them open with the opener I kept on my key chain. Then I grabbed the lime I bought and sliced it open with the pen knife that I also kept on my key chain. I squeezed the limes into our beers, licked the juice off my fingers and walked over to the southeast corner where she was staring out into space.

"Here," I said as I approached not wanting to startle her. She turned and grabbed the beer and took swig, put it on the ground and then returned to her view.

I took a swig and then pulled out a cigarette and fired it up. I took a deep drag, looked up towards the moon, and blew some smoke into the night.

"I can't believe you never came up here before," she said.

"What can I say. I lead a simple life."

"It's so nice."

"Yeah, well I'm pretty sure they don't want us up here."

"Well, it's too cool to waste."

She turned back towards me, grabbed my cigarette, took a drag, exhaled and handed it back to me. Then she put her arms on my shoulders, leaned up and kissed me softly, sucking on my lower lip for a few seconds before leaning her body into mine. It didn't take long for me to overcome the elements. She kept kissing me while pushing me backwards into the wall where the door was then she started to undo my belt. A second later and her hand was inside my pants and another second after that and I wasn't in them anymore.

I tried to put my free hand around her but she used her free one to push my arm back. Then she dropped to her knees. A feeling of warmth like nothing I'd ever experienced before surrounded me. Normally, I try to set records for endurance, but in this case I figured the odds that I'd ever be in this situation again were so long that for once I'd sit back and enjoy something rather than resist it. Plus, this wasn't costing me anything so I didn't need to worry about not getting the full hour. I took a drag off my cigarette and exhaled into the cool air. A few seconds after that my knees began to shake a little as her mouth tightened around me and took everything I had.

I have all night -- Part One

2011-08-06T01:54:00.002-04:00

I flicked my cigarette out before I walked back into the bar. I now had to strain my memory to recall the days when I could enjoy a brew and a butt at the same time.

Like everything else I loved about my city, those days were long gone. New York had moved on and I was still stuck. More and more I felt like a relic of a different era. I was a good ten years older than everyone else in this place. I was on the verge of crossing the line from mysterious older guy to pathetic pervert.

But I still had a few years left. At least that's what I tell myself before I head out the door. A few hours later and I wasn't sure if I had many days left. I looked around hoping someone would look back. The only thing I saw were my dark eyes in the mirror behind the bar telling me it was time to leave.

As always, I ignored my eyes. Refused to see what they were showing me. I pounded my beer, knocked it on the bar and waited for a fresh bottle to appear in front of me. When it did, I took a swig and then headed to the bathroom.

I looked in the mirror as I took out my pack of smokes, reached inside and fished out the little plastic bag. Another promise was about to bite the dust as I put my key into the bag and pulled it out slowly with a tiny pile of powder on the end. I moved that key like it was a tong lifting a prize out of a game. Then I lifted it to my nose and sucked it up. I repeated the process with my other nostril and felt that little rush and then the drip in the back of my throat. I flushed, put my baggie back in the pack and headed back to the bar where I took a swig from the fresh bottle.

"Is that your book?" I heard a voice ask.

I turned sharply and saw that a redhead was sitting on the stool next to me. She had long hair that hung across her face, covering one of her eyes. She was wearing a black turtle neck, black skirt, dark stockings and black pumps. I only felt like I was from a different era. She looked like she just walked out of the 1940s.

I looked back at the book on the bar. It was Fante's Ask the Dust. Yes, it was mine.

"You reading it, or is it just a prop."

"A little of both," I said. "I've already read it."

"Does it work?"

"Not really," I said, sniffing up to try to get a little more of a lift.

"You have a cold?"

"Not really," I said as I pulled my pack out.

"You going for a smoke?"

"Yeah, wanna come?"

"Sure," she said. She slid around on the chair and stood up. She was just the right height. Came up to my shoulders with her heels on.

We got outside and I handed her a smoke and pulled out my zippo and gave her a light.

"You're old school. I like it."

"I'm not old school, just old," I said while lighting my cigarette.

She exhaled through her nose and smiled.

"You don't look that old."

"Old is a state of mind and my mind is in a state of senility."

"Maybe you need to be jolted back into now," she said.

"What's your name."

"Danielle, but everyone calls me Dani."

"Nice to meet you, Danielle. I'm JB."

"JB what?"

"Just JB," I said while taking a drag.

"Well, just JB, lets go back in and finish our drinks."

"I may not be finished for awhile."

"That's OK. I have all night."

We'll see about that, I thought to myself as I held the door open for her.

Memories of Christmas Past

2011-08-02T01:48:00.003-04:00

Another cold night
Everyone tucked away inside

Not me

I'm at Tap-a-Keg getting high.
And you're standing by my side

That was the Christmas Eve I remember most

Hoping that the right mix will give us escape
Praying that we get through the night
Holding each other tight
Letting the booze tell us lies

And when we're done doing it to each other
We'll cling tight in our bed and hope we don't wake

But the next day we will and it will be Christmas
Alone again

Reading list

2011-04-13T00:52:00.005-04:00

Just so no one thinks I'm wasting all my time. I am reading a book -- "The Savage City" by T.J. English -- about New York in the 1960s and 70s.

I have always been most fascinated by New York during that time. English, author of The Westies, examines the aftermath of a high profile crime -- the career girl murders -- and uses that as a basis to explorerace relations, police corruption and the anger and violence that tore through Fun City.

I'm only about one-third through it, but it is a great read. It is a good companion book to Vincent Cannato's "The Ungovernable City: John Lindsay's New York And The Crisis Of Liberalism." Cannato captures the political battles of that era while English nails life on the street.

I don't know why such a dark period fascinates me so much, but New York just seemed so much more real and gritty then. Anything could happen good or bad and it often did. It sounds crazy to say I would have liked to live there in that era but I realy would. Anyone got a time machine?

Otherwise, I'm still reading lots of Lawrence Block and George Pelecanos.

And one day I'll have my own noir book done. Really. Maybe when I'm 50.

Starting to think

2011-04-13T00:48:00.001-04:00

Starting to think
That I waste too much time

Starting to think
That I'm losing my mind

Starting to think
That the end is getting near

Starting to think
I'm losing to fear

Starting to think
That I'll end up alone

Want to be alone

2011-04-13T00:46:00.003-04:00

Want to be alone
Except when I'm lonely

Want to be alone
Except when you're not around

Want to be alone
Except when I really am

Jeez

2011-01-23T21:37:00.001-05:00

Man I'm getting bad at keeping this thing going.

Sorry.

Got a birthday coming up. Sucks!

Keep It Simple

2010-12-16T21:18:00.003-05:00

Sometimes miss those early days
All I had to do was cling to that seat
Let the wall hold me up
Each minute was an hour and each hour a day

All that mattered was getting through the moment
The future didn't exist and the past didn't matter
Just live in the day it was that simple
As long as I was strong, I'd be around

The feeling that came at the end of the day
Knowing I'd gotten through another one
Each day the scars healing a little more
Each day my body and heart a little less sore

Now those days are long gone
Replaced by the worries that I used to spend all my time escaping from
They're back again. Less scary and less menacing
But nonetheless still lurking in my head

Five years down the road from those cold seats in that little room
Those dark nights and lost souls
Clinging together to create hope
It was so simple then

When

2010-12-01T00:53:00.002-05:00

When?

When does it stop hurting?
When can I stop looking away?
When can I see you and not feel ripped apart?
When can I see you and not have it break my heart?

From across the room I see you.
I get that cold chill in my chest.
From across the room I hear you.
And and I lose my breath.

When?

It sucks.

Reality Check

2010-11-25T11:34:00.002-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving.

For all the angst, rants, blood, pain and loss that I spill here, the truth of the matter is I have nothing to bitch about. I have a place to be today and family to see today and friends to call today and a bed to sleep in today.

Do I really need anything else? I have people who love me and that I love. I have a job that allows me to express myself and to use my mind. I am one of the fortunate ones. Sure, I've had plenty of downs, but I see a lot more people with a lot more happiness with a hell of a lot less than I have and I can learn from them.

I got up today and went to a meeting. It's the same meeting I've been to for six years in a row now down in Dupont Circle. I see a lot of the same faces and it gives me strength. I have many regrets in life -- who doesn't -- but the one thing I don't regret is a decision I made over five years ago to walk away from my self-destructive ways.

I am still writing for fun, just not here lately. At some point, I will put some of the story I'm working on up here. Now that I'm back to writing full time, it is tough for me to find the time to do this too.

But I do need to find the time because we only have so much time anyway.

I'm going to spare you the usual bleakness that fills my screens today. It is a good day and I have no complaints.

Peace out!

Status update

2010-10-16T01:38:00.002-04:00

I know I don't write here enough. I spend my day writing so by the time I get home and actually have some time to devote to myself and the writing I want to do, I'm too spent to put a few thoughts together.

Of course, this is in part because I returned to my old career and while it was a good move, with it comes a loss of time and an expenditure of energy that drains me.

I have been doing some writing on the side. Another story. Not sure if it will see the light of day here, but hopefully it will see the light of day.

My life is good. My dad died and that hasn't been easy. But it's not easy for anyone who has lost a parent. I'm no different. I'm just glad, as I said earlier, that I lost a lot of the anger I had carried with me for so many years. I'd be a mess right now if I hadn't.

I am seeing someone. And she is wonderful and sweet and caring and takes care of me. Hopefully I won't fuck it up.

I still have lots of angst and darkness and blood that needs to flow here. I'll get there. I'm not too old ... yet.

Atonement

2010-09-18T00:31:00.002-04:00

Too many sins keeping me
Too many sins to set me free
Let go the ones that cut the deepest
Let the blood flow so I can breathe
Wash it away

Gonna walk to the edge of the water
Kneel down on the ground
Ask you to take it all away
Beg you to let me stay

Too many sins chasing you away
Too many sins getting in my way
Let go the ones that scream the loudest
Let the blood flow so I can pray
Wash it away

Gonna watch the sun drop over those hills
Wait through the night until I hear them crows
Ask you to take it all away
Beg you to let me stay

Too many sins keeping me down
Too many sins for you to be around
Let go the ones that ache the most
Let go the ones that keep me lost
Wash it away

Gonna sit besides those rail road tracks
Wait for that freighter and never come back
Ask you to take me away
Beg you to hear me pray

Wash it away

I have not forgotten

2010-09-14T23:41:00.004-04:00

Really, I haven't.
I've just been caught up in crap to sit down and write like I should. I have been working on a story, but I'm doing it in longhand, not on the computer so no previews for now.

On the family front, death brings out the best and worst in people. I had a huge blow up with one of my brothers that looked like it might potentially end our relationship. I won't go into the what or why except to say that while I may have lobbed a rock and he returned fire with nuclear weapons.

Fortunately, once my father's will came out, he find a new home for his anger. We're fine now and he's furious with my father. I'm not sure why. My dad's will was no secret. We don't get anything. The grandkids also don't get anything. That would be easier to swallow if he hadn't found money for his sister he never spoke to (who is also on death's door) and his niece (although she deserves whatever she can get).

Here's the rub. My dad is leaving everything to his second wife. That's fine. But what he didn't do was set up his will in a way that so when she passed, properties could be passed on to his kids or grandkids. He also didn't set up the possibility of trusts for grandkids should his wife sell some of his properties.

Now I don't have kids (yet) so no biggie for me. But my brothers are a little irked since after my dad's second wife goes, everything goes to her nieces and nephews. It's a little screwed up but what can you do?

Just one thing to keep in mind when you are doing your wills. If both my dad and his wife had passed together in an accident but she outlived him by two minutes, everything would have gone to her nieces and nephews. Now that's a little screwed up. So all you folks out there with multiple families, etc., be very clear in your wills.

OK, going to eat now but I will be back with more soon. Really, I promise.

Sunday night

2010-08-22T23:08:00.003-04:00

Supposed to be writing.
Instad I'm sitting here in this coffee shop in Larchmont Village.
I should be working on my story, but instead i'm stuck in a battle that will have no winners.
Isn't life fun?

There's nothing like death

2010-08-22T23:06:00.000-04:00

To bring the best and worst out of people.

And that's all I'll say about that!

One Long Week

2010-08-14T01:40:00.005-04:00

There's no right way to deliver the news that your father has died. My mom did it bluntly last Saturday morning. Have to admit to being stunned. Yes he was 79, but his health was not in decline. Slowing down for sure, but he looked like he was good for five more years.

Anyone who has been reading me knows I didn't have the most ideal relationship with my father. To be blunt, for the first 16 years of my life he wasn't much of a father. By the time he became a good father, I wasn't much of a son.

The good thing is that over the last few years I made peace with him as best as I good. My chest still tightened every time I heard his voice and I never completely felt relaxed in his presence. At the same time I lost the rage I carried for things that happened so long ago.

Part of that was getting sober. If this was five years ago and my father was gone, I'd be sitting in the Dublin House right now swigging beers and cursing him for leaving before I got a chance to tell him what I thought. I'd have been left with nothing but anger and resentments and no where to point the blame.

Fortunately, I don't feel that now. I was able to say what I needed to say and I did it as a sober man, not a bitter drunk. More time would've been nice and maybe even got us closer to some place where my chest would never feel the need to tighten in reaction to his presence.

But that wasn't meant to be and the truth is that the blame for that falls a lot more on me than him. He said as much a few years ago. He recognized his part in our relationship, but added that ultimately it was up to me to move on from it.

He was right, of course. I did a little, but never far enough. The truth is that for most of my life I foolishly thought the anger in me about him and my family was some vital core of my being and without I would cease to exist. Putting down the drink made me see the opposite was true. It was killing me.

I have not yet mourned his death. I think I'm still feeling like I'm in limbo. I will visit his home next week just to feel his presence. There was no funeral. There will be a memorial, but I can't wait for that. I need to walk the rooms he lived in and let it all hit me. It's something I need to do.

The good thing is that no matter how hard all this will get in the months and years ahead, I know in the end I did the best I could to reconcile things with him and myself and I'm at peace with it.

I read all these appreciations of his work and life and I see how much was passed on to me without me even realizing it. I'm just glad I can smile about it now.

Love Rage Pain

2010-08-07T20:05:00.006-04:00

There's a hole in me now
All the love, rage and pain
Just torn out of me
Can't barely stand without it

Never did get things straight between us
Probably never could
Still wish for a little more time
Don't we all

Better for you to go down fast
The rest of us just wanted one more moment
Selfish on our part
Now we're the ones alone

Don't really feel anything yet
Want to keep moving but got nowhere to go
Feel like I should be on a plane somewhere
Instead of feeling stuck in this nowhere

If only it'd been different
You made me who I am
Good and bad
Now I'm old and you're gone

Wish I'd been better towards you
After you got better towards me
Wish I could've forgot the past
Take your love no questions asked

Won't feel anything
For the next days and weeks
Then that love rage and pain
Will come crashing down on me

Don't Want to See You in Everything

2010-07-29T01:17:00.003-04:00

When you look into my eyes
Do you see the pain?

When you hear my voice
Can you tell it's still cracked?

When you see me walk
Do I still look broken?

When I see you I have to look away
When I see you I have to leave the day
When I see you I have to drop and pray
When I see you I have nothing to say

What bad turn did I go down with you
What maze is this that has no exit
Why do we cling so to the one
That did a dump and run

When I see you I feel so weak
When I see you I forget to speak
When I see you I go meek
When I see you I turn to concrete

When you look into my eyes
Do you see the hurt?

When you hear my voice
Is it beaten down?

When you see me walk
Do you laugh behind me?

Want to see you and feel no pain
Want to see you and think of rain
Want to see you and not see anything
Don't want to see you in everything

Enough Trouble

2010-07-29T01:12:00.003-04:00

I know how to take care of myself even when I don't want to. Tonight I was going to go to an industry party. But if I did, it would have likely led me to going without a meeting until Saturday.

For some reason, I knew I would be better served showing up in a church then a party. It's not that I thought after almost five years I'd screw up. It's that I don't want it to become acceptable to go four days without checking in. The most I've gone before is three days and that was when I had pneumonia.

I know I won't forget what I am. I'm not one of those people who will gradually drift away and fall backwards. If I go back there it will be because I made a decision to return to that hell because I could no longer take this one.

So far that's not something in the cards. It's good to know that I still know that.

Someone tonight asked how long I had and when I said almost five years he exclaimed, "five years without one beer." I said I didn't think of it that way but I guess that's true.

It's important not to think of it like that. If you do, trouble starts.

I've had enough trouble. Don't need no more.

Not Taking Care

2010-07-29T01:05:00.002-04:00

Turning left on La Brea from Melrose I took a risk. Sped up and made the turn when I should have waited. Notice that I drive faster than I should. Notice that I take bets that I shouldn't.

Am I 45 with a death wish? Sometimes I can envision the crack-up or the person I don't see in the afternoon sun flying into the air on Sixth Street.

Torn sometimes between wanting what I don't have and not wanting what I do. Pretty sure I've got that one backwards, but that's how I've always lived.

Little tired of still feeling pain over something that shouldn't have hurt. For someone who has based their whole life on being rejected, that rejection sure hurt a lot. Wish I knew why.

Sitting here listening to Landslide. Sometimes I wish I'd done more. Sometimes I wish I'd gone deeper. Cut myself harder. Bled a little more.

Don't want to feel this stuff anymore. Spend all day chasing other people's lives and the come home to none of my own.

Got all the wrong priorities. May chase away another one who wants to take care of me so I can find one who doesn't.

That way there will be two people not taking care of me.

Laurel Canyon

2010-07-20T23:18:00.002-04:00

There is something about driving up Laurel Canyon that I love. When the traffic is light and the sun is setting there are few things more beautiful than taking those curves and looking up at those hills. It clears my mind.

We Never Cared

2010-07-12T00:26:00.004-04:00

We never cared
When you were lost

We never cared
When you didn't come home

We never cared
When you went missing

We never cared
Until its too late

We never looked
When you vanished

We never looked
When you couldn't be found

We never looked
When you missed your birthday

We never looked
When the years rolled by

We never cried
When you didn't come back

We never cried
When they found you in the dirt

We never cried
When your bones were all that was left

We never cried
When they said you never had a chance.

Home

2010-07-05T16:56:00.003-04:00

When I see the donut, I know I'm home. I'm safe.

Aight?

2010-06-25T02:05:00.000-04:00

Got my words.
Got my blood.
Mixed together in dirt.
Lost in the mud.
Just struggling to keep it real.
Holding up my end of the deal.
Aight?

Soon

2010-06-25T02:00:00.001-04:00

Soon
Will take a shot
Send some of the verses out
See if I can get some momentum
Who knows
And if not, I don't expect it anyway
So that' OK
And sometime soon
I'll be back here
With more to hear
And less to fear

Supposed To Feel

2010-06-13T19:57:00.003-04:00

Keep looking for a feeling that betrayed me every time
Think that if I don't feel what I felt before then it doesn't matter no more
But every time I've had that feeling it blew up in my face
So why should I waste my time?

Don't know what I'm supposed to feel
Don't know how to tell what's real
Every other time, I've felt weak
Every other time, I couldn't eat

Somehow thought that's how it's supposed to feel
On edge, strung out waiting for the next hit of love
Starting to think that may not be so right
Starting to see it's not all about staying up all night

Can it be real if it's not real crazy?

The Sweet Forever

2010-06-13T19:37:00.003-04:00

Just finished "The Sweet Forever," my third George Pelecanos book. He's a D.C. noir writer for those not aware. He's also written for The Wire.

Pelecanos really captures DC in the 1980s. The geography, the scene, the music, the bars, it's all there. In a nutshell, "The Sweet Forever" is about a collision of a record store owner, his employees, corrupt cops, drug dealers and a party girl. The backdrop is the NCAA tournament and Len Bias' final season with Maryland. Bias is there to foreshadow what is coming to DC and the country. Just as Magic Johnson's announcement that he was HIV positive suddenly put a new face on AIDS and made us all panic, Bias' death from a cocaine overdose just two days after the Celtics drafted him had the same effect on many of us folks.

The thing with Pelecanos is he really knows how to capture neighborhoods. When he writes about being in Georgetown or U Street (pre gentrification U Street), I feel like I'm there. I got a little thrill when he set a scene at Alice Deal where I went to middle school.

His books have a fair amount of sex and drugs in them and all I can say is no one can write scenes like that without having dabbled a little in the stuff themselves. Makes me wish I'd been a little more wild in my D.C. days. Stealing super cans was fun, but it' not quite crazy sex with a party girl who likes to put ice cubes in strange places.

He grew up in Maryland and his family owned a diner in DC so he knows his turf. In reality, I spent about seven years in D.C., but they were the most formative years (learned to drive, had my first drunk, lost my virginity, first job etc.) and I still consider it home.

But if I were to try to write a book there, I'd have to do set in the 1980s too. I've been gone from the place for too long to try to capture what it's like now. The only thing is Pelecanos has this covered. He does seem more into basketball than football though so I do have that going for me. I may not know the 1986 NCAA tournament inside and out but I can tell you Jay Schroeder's stats for every game that season.

It's a start.

Blue & Gold

2010-05-23T18:01:00.002-04:00

Listening to The Cure's "Close to Me" always takes me back to the Blue & Gold, a little Ukrainian dive bar on East 7th Street near First Avenue.

I spent much of my college life at the Blue & Gold. The East Village in the early 1980s was still a mix of old immigrants, squatters, musicians, artists, addicts and NYU students who dared to venture past Second Avenue. This was before there were Starbucks and Gaps all over the place down there. It was still a neighborhood instead of a mall. Of course, it was that first wave of NYU dorks heading east that led to all that the East Village is now, so blame me and my pals.

Anyway, when we went there on a Friday or Saturday night the bar was usually a mix of old Ukrainians at the bar and students and punks in the booths. I'd call them hipsters but this was before the term was coined. If you had a booth at the B&G, you did not give it up. You were golden.

The walls of the B&G had drawings of old villages in them but you had to look hard to see them. It had a great jukebox, cheap drinks, a disgusting bathroom that I vomited in a lot and a pool table in the middle. There was a bar just like it right next door that we called the parallel universe. Strangely, no matter how crowded the B&G got, no one ever ventured next door to the relatively empty confines of the parallel universe.

There was an old guy at the bar every night at the B&G. He had gray hair and always wore shades and was always smoking. My friends used to joke that he was me at sixty. In all the years of going there, the only time any of us ever heard him say anything was when he once yelled, "up your ass" at no one in particular.

Often we would start at night at the B&G and then drift further down 7th to Vazacs at Avenue B. Some people know it as the horseshoe bar. It is a classic bar which is why many movies ("Godfather II," "Angel Heart" and "The Verdict") were shot there as well as numerous Miller Lite advertisements. From there we'd bob over to 5th Street and Sophies and then work our way back to the B&G to finish the night before staggering back to the dorms.

I remember one afternoon after we were done with Fall semester finals and me and my roommates headed there for a mid-afternoon binge. The place was pretty empty except for the usual assortment of old Ukrainians. We drank a ton of beer and I must have had four shots of Wild Turkey and was smoking filterless Camels. The lady who ran the place called us "crazy cossacks." I had to catch a train to Buffalo the next day to visit my girlfriend's family. It was one of the worst hangovers I ever had.

Obviously I have not been to the Blue & Gold in a long time. Even if i wasn't sober, I'm too old for that place now. Nothing worse than an aging doofus trying to pick up college chicks although if you are good at it then it's probably like shooting fish in a barrel.

I will ask my readers who tipped many back at the B&G with me to throw in their own memories.

Another Date

2010-05-08T01:14:00.004-04:00

She lay back hoping it'd be better
He pushed her skirt up and started to grind
He reached under to get at her
Maybe if she just shut her eyes she wouldn't mind

She felt him feeling her with his swell
Wished she cared enough to show him bliss
Like a blind man trying to find the doorbell
He poked at everything and missed

He finally found the mark
She felt something but it was never enough
He acted like he was making art
She just wished he'd get real rough

A few minutes later he was done
And she was still stuck in second gear
Nothing to show for this but his slimy cum
Dripping out of her like slow tears

He took out another hundred
Thanks for making it so great
She put it next to her on the bed
Gotta go, I'm gonna be late

The door slammed and she sighed
Heard him on the stairs and started the wait
Wanted to but had no time to cry
Had to get ready for another date

A year and a few weeks

2010-04-28T21:28:00.002-04:00

I realized I kind of let the one year anniversary of my return to LA slip by without some words.

I guess I should say something about it.

No regrets

That's all I got right now.

On the to do list:

Finish that damn story

Write some others

Try to sell them

Rinse, repeat.

Found Me

2010-04-28T21:01:00.003-04:00

Left a few clues for you
Probably wasn't thinking at the time
But you took the bait and followed through
And wandered into my world of rhyme

Now I'm not what you might have thought
Or maybe I'm too much of what you fear
So that whole dance was for naught
Because you're running free and clear

Peace and Desperation

2010-04-28T20:57:00.003-04:00

Sitting in Starbucks in Beverly Hills wondering why. I'm here in my suit. I look like everyone else. I have a job and a home and people who care about me and all these other things and yet at times I can feel completely empty.

This is not a woe is me post. It's been way too long since I wrote in this thing. I'm so damn busy with work and so damn stupid with my time when I'm not at work that I don't take the lousy 15 minutes a day it would take me to put something here so the record is complete.

I'm killing time before a work dinner. Truth is I'd rather not go to the dinner. I'd rather go to a meeting. I'd rather just go somewhere and not have to be on. I always feel I have to be on. I have to be something or someone. It's exhausting.

Last night I went to see the person I'm dating. She's nice and sweet and all those things. But is it enough? Of course not. Because she can never be enough. The one before or after couldn't either. And that's because I haven't accepted that I'm enough. Until I do that, nothing else matters.

Back in the Day

2010-04-11T01:39:00.003-04:00

Listening to this and thinking about all the times I played it while hanging out at the Dublin House on West 79th. I'd be there alone doing my Bukowski thing with an endless stream of beers and shots and the rest. I'd be trying to look like a dark writer hoping some hot chick into desperate guys would take me home.

Yeah, it happened twice maybe. But if I close my eyes I can taste the beer and the Marlboro and the all that other good stuff. No, I don't miss the end result. I don't miss where I ended up. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that I sometimes wish I could go back for a night.

And yeah, I went home with a waitress or two in my day too.

What's playing in my head

2010-04-11T00:52:00.003-04:00

Remember this one? Really not a bad song. Kind of led to the poem below.

In the Dark

2010-04-11T00:29:00.002-04:00

Got caught on the platform
Thought I could make a break
But they were too quick
And I was too late

Taken to an empty hole
Fought but they wouldn't let go
They took my eyes
And robbed my soul

Left hanging in the dark
Cigarette burns in my arm
Kept asking me over and over
And promised no more harm

Closed them off and went away
Saw things that I'd never seen before
Didn't even feel the cut that drained my life
And I want to come back for more

Cheap Vodka and Bad Wine

2010-04-10T18:37:00.003-04:00

I see this as a blues song. Need some harmonica and guitar.

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Got to get me mine

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Just something to help me pass the time

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Helps make me blind

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Oh so much easier to live that lie

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Makes everything feel so fine

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Make it last a little longer with this line

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Makes me forget all the wasted time

Cheap vodka and bad wine
ripped apart my body and mind

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Ate away my prime

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Made you leave all those times

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Took my last dime

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Left me here dying

RIP David Mills

2010-03-31T20:55:00.003-04:00

David Mills, a former Washington Post reporter who went on to write for some of TV's greatest dramas including "Homicide," "NYPD Blue" and "The Wire" and was currently working on HBO's "Treme" died.

I did not know him, but knew his work. He also had the blog Undercover Black Man that I link to here. If you had not checked him out before, please do so now.

He was 48. We never know how much time we have so you better make the most of it.

D.C. 2010

2010-03-27T23:17:00.004-04:00

In D.C. for Passover. Yes, Rambler's a Yid!

I get here about three times a year and both love how little it has changed in some parts and how much it has in others. Bethesda is almost a miniature Georgetown now. Rockville has its own version. I know. Rambler those are suburbs. You said you were in D.C. Trust me, I'm a D.C. boy with the Wilson diploma to prove it. No MD or VA prep school or DC private school for me.

But I'm staying with my brother in Kensington so what can you do. Anyway, Tour Guide would know best, but I guess the new thing for the suburbs is to create their own little downtowns to become more appealing to those who might be more inclined to stay in the city.

D.C.'s population has actually been growing. The city is a lot nicer than when I was growing up here. Not that it was awful then. It had its scary parts and now there are fewer scary parts. The whole 14th Street corridor is cleaned up. It feels like Brooklyn Heights. Columbia Heights looks like some city from the future!

Because of the strict zoning laws, none of these new developments seem overwhelming or out of place. Unlike New York, with its hideous glass hi-rises everywhere, D.C. architects actually seem to want the new to blend with the old. Radical concept.

For all that is new here, the old DC charms has not been lost. Roaming around Dupont Circle is timeless. Upper Northwest is as picturesque as ever. What's new works and what's old remains.

I'm sure there are others who blog constantly about the downfall of old D.C. and who knows, maybe they have a point. All I know is every time I'm back here I start to think that this is a city I could live in again should I feel the need to pull yet another geographic. I can't say that about New York.

I spent ten years in NYC before moving back to LA and yet I never miss it or think of it as home. I spent four years of my youth in DC and about four more as an adult. Yet this is where I consider myself from. I guess it's because all the pivotal early moments of life happened here. My first kiss was here. First drunk was here. First lay was here. Learned how to drive here. Etc.

When I come here I feel like I'm home. Just like when I'm back in LA I'll feel like I'm home. Don't have that feeling in NYC.

Didn't mean to turn this into yet another why I don't miss NYC rant. I'm just checking in and reporting that D.C. is still a pretty cool city.

I know I keep you amused...

2010-03-15T21:42:00.001-04:00

More Rod.

Dreaming of an Alabi

2010-03-15T21:29:00.002-04:00

If this doesn't make you smile I don't know what to do with ya! The Faces sloppily (of course) performing one of my favorite Rod songs, the under-appreciated "True Blue."

Wrong To Steal

2010-03-12T21:43:00.003-05:00

Stood next to you all night
Not quite sure what I saw back in the day
Why did I think you were right
Must have been really hungry to eat off that plate

Just another vacant stare
Was there ever anything there
Just another vacant stare
Was I just a dare

Tried to see what it was I saw
Wanted to feel what I felt
Came away just feeling raw
Looking for another stiff belt

Just another lap in those empty eyes
Another chance to listen to your lies
Just another lap in those empty eyes
One more time to hear your fake cries

Would like to cut myself open in front of you
Splatter myself all over your dress
Like to see me inside you
Feel myself draining and at rest

Just one more time to make you see real
Another chance to make you feel
Just one more time to make you see real
One last time to show you the deal

Standing Eight

2010-03-11T01:40:00.000-05:00

Got in the ring and took a blow.
Tasted blood again, but I won't go.
Still staggering as bell calls for more.
Will I stand or hit the floor?

Not much of an update

2010-03-09T10:39:00.001-05:00

But I'm getting lots of spam comments on old posts here. Anyone know what the hell that's about. Otherwise, here is what is new. I'm now dating just one girl instead of two. I still look at too much Internet porn. I'm still wasting way too much time doing dumb stuff when I need to be writing.

Yes, I will revisit she's nothing but trouble. I promise.

OK, going to take a shower now.

Peace!

You never bled

2010-02-19T00:50:00.004-05:00

Still got you in my head
Even though to you I'm dead
Feeling you in my bed
But for me you never bled

Wish you'd just go away
But I'm the one who makes you stay
I'm still caught up in your sway
And it's not like it was that great a lay

Were together only a little while
Apparently I wasn't your style
Just another one stuck in your file
And then dropped like I was bile

You see me and feel nothing
I see you and lose everything
You look through me and touch your ring
I look in you and need a drink

Sometime I'll find what's real
Won't fall for one who steals
Who ate me like their last meal
Just let these scars heal

Orgasm

2010-02-13T22:00:00.003-05:00

Can't let you take that from me
Won't come for you
As much as I want to
It's the only thing I can keep

Hate myself when its over
Just want to run far away
Got nothing to do with you as a lover
Can't let myself enjoy even a lay

Feel so guilty after, like I stole something
Can give you everything you want
But can't let you make me sing
And till that changes my soul will rot

Won't give you that piece of me
You've got to come take it
Can't let myself really see
So I'll just fake it

It's the only thing I can hold on to
Not like I've got some super staying power
Just trying to be true to me not you
And hopefully last the next hour

Missing DC

2010-02-08T01:31:00.000-05:00

Goodnight Salinger

2010-01-31T01:22:00.000-05:00

Finding my way out of the light.
Don't like it so bright.
Take me night.
Don't care for sight.
Saw what I needed to see so let me be tonight

Rain

2010-01-22T01:34:00.003-05:00

Got caught in the rain chasing your screams
Confused your pain for freedom again so it seems
How many times you gonna die
For that lie?

Keep looking for new holes to hit
More veins to slit
World's eating you alive
You just sit there ready to die

Don't know enough to come out of the rain
No one around anyway to pay
No saviour on these streets tonight
No one to tell you you're just right

Can't help you get out of here
You're stuck and you're end is near
They'll come by for a week or so
And then they'll forget you and your stone

Come out of the rain

Love

2010-01-20T02:25:00.003-05:00

I really want to be the guy who's there for you every day
The one that will always find a way
But instead I'm the one who hangs just out of reach
The one who sucks you dry like a leech.

Hope you'll call me later
Maybe come by for dinner
Let me take you in the bedroom
Let me be your sinner

I will always be here for you
Just the guy to come when you a need a screw
Yes, I'm the one you want
When you can't have what you need

So stop pretending you'll get through this rhyme
I've got you hanging on the line
I'm the one dropping the dime
I'm the one taking your time

Not a bad boy, I'm really not
Just not ready to give you a shot
Out in the day where I can't hide
Afraid you'll see what I'm not

Can't show up when you need me
Can't be there when you want me
Just take what I can all the time
And get you thinking you're the one in the lie

Turning 45 later this week
And I'm still the same old creep
Turning 45 later this week
And no, I won't weep

Still out there using and being used
Still out there doing what gets me by
Still out there getting you high
Still out there between your thighs

And you keep coming back
No matter how far you try to run
Keep looking for it somewhere else
you keep going back
When you need to come

No More

2010-01-07T01:56:00.000-05:00

Feel you burning inside.
What I'm waiting for?
Hear you talking.
Can't take no more.
See you walking.
I'm looking for the door.
So gone now.

Love this song

2009-12-23T01:25:00.002-05:00

Jesse Malin doing Hold Steady's "You Can Make Him Like You."

Laurina

2009-12-23T00:48:00.002-05:00

Laurina was a girl I met in New York in the program. She was dark, jaded, beautiful, and damaged. Naturally I fell for her. She made it clear upfront that she wasn't looking to date. And for once I accepted something at face value and we became good friends. We'd hang out with each other. Talk on the phone, Text one another. When Melissa pulled away, Laurina was there for me. I'll never forget a cold night in New York when my heart was broken and she and I roamed around the East Village and hung out for hours. I needed human contact and she was there.

She wasn't much on the compassion front and certainly wasn't really ever a good listener or a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. She had her own baggage and her own demons and I guess us together made us forget ourselves for just a little bit.

Laurina disappeared before I left New York. She was always struggling with her writing and trying to make ends meed in various temp jobs. Laurina was not cut out for office work. Her dream was to be a writer in the mountains somewhere. I guess she got a little down and took off for awhile either to Maryland where her brother was or Massachusetts where the rest of her family lived. Either way, I didn't see her before I left for Los Angeles.

It's not like I didn't try. I emailed her. I sent texts. I left messages. I even called her friend to try to get in touch with her. And since I've been out here, I tried too. I never get a response. I know she's back in New York and back in the meeting we used to go to. I wish she'd get in touch with me. I'm through trying. I used to get angry about it. But it's her, not me. It's not personal and she is probably completely unaware how much it hurt that she never responded to my efforts to get in touch with her.

I sometimes wonder if I confuse my feelings for Melissa with Laurina. I went for Melissa not long after Laurina had passed on my offer of a date. I think I was hungry for something and the someone didn't matter so much. If you had to say on paper who I had more in common with and who I had more of a connection to, it would be Laurina hands down.

But I don't sit here pining for Laurina. I'm writing about her just because she's someone who was very important in my life for a short time. She was someone who probably helped me more than she'll ever know. And I guess if she doesn't know, why should I be surprised that she could move on to a world without me without a missing a beat.

I think I attach too much to people. I probably think too highly of myself in all this too. Tonight I'm worried that it's been now a full 48 hours since I was with this girl Courtney and we fooled around a lot. I emailed her a little while ago, but I wonder if after you've been in between their thighs you're supposed to call, not email. I sit here and worry that she's thinking less of me when in reality she might be perfectly fine with everything Maybe I'm the sensitive one. Or is that another copout.

Anyway, I've gotten distracted. Tonight I hope my pal Laurina is doing well and maybe one day I'll cross paths with her again.

What Up!

2009-12-22T00:31:00.003-05:00

So rather than look for some Internet porn or watch a rerun of Big Bang, I thought I'd try to hammer out an update.

I'm not ready to resume my fiction efforts but am getting close. Was reading a story I was working on to a date the other night (I know, what a cheap romantic ploy) and it almost got me inspired to start working on it again.

A friend asked if I had lost interest in this. I haven't really. I guess I just am kind of worn out when I get home and either surf the net, do Twitter or watch TV. I need to just do this. I need to disconnect from the world every now and then and this is probably my best way.

Of course, in the course of writing this I distracted myself with Internet porn for ten minutes. Are my thoughts so scary I can't be alone with them without any diversions? Apparently so.

So other than my porn habit still raging out of control I'm fine. Hard to believe I've been here eight months. Frankly 2009 is hard to believe. I went into it thinking I'd found the girl I was going to marry only to have that explode in my face two weeks into January. I let that knock me on my ass. It ultimately led me back to Los Angeles and journalism. A girl I'm dating right now who asked me about my last relationship had these wise words for me about it that I'd thought I'd share.

"When you lose someone, the pain often feels twofold. That's because not only do you now have to mourn the loss of that person, but, and this is what gets us, you're mourning the loss of your dream for who that person MIGHT have been in your life, and what they might have meant for you (a perfect future, happiness, love, etc). That second loss is often more painful because it was so beautiful and perfect ... and unreal. Honor that. And try to let it go."

She's absolutely right, especially the loss of my dream for who she might have been in my life. I hope I can learn from that. I hope I also recognize that anyone with that much insight is worth pursuing. I like her a lot. I'm just not sure my walls are ready to come down yet. She seems very patient and has plenty of walls of her own too and neither of us are in any rush. I like her and if I can get past my own shallowness then who knows.

That said, I really don't want to rush into anything. My history has been meet girl, sleep with girl, have relationship. Basically, I'm the guy who walks on the lot, drives out the first car he sees without checking the transmission or realizing that the guy who owned it before me really fucked up the interior.

I want to test drive lots of cars.

Since

2009-12-06T01:08:00.001-05:00

Everyone else seems to keep on blogging (BTW, Tourguide, you got the Badlands lyrics wrong, but appreciate the sentiment, I've never understood why people think Bruce should stop singing about what he knows just because he got rich) so i will try to as well.

But now I need to go to sleep.

Things I like about LA

2009-12-06T00:46:00.003-05:00

Driving the ten with no traffic at twilight when the palm trees jet out over the hills.
The full moons here are incredible.
My neighborhood, which is so cool.
Funky buildings.
When the traffic is moving, I love driving.
Cool nights like tonight.
LAX even if the experts say it is the worst airport in the world. I love landing there and knowing I'm home.

I was given a job offer recently and the position they wanted me to take was back in NYC and my gut clenched so tight. I know I made the right choice.

If I go anywhere after here, it'll be DC.

Your Call

2009-12-06T00:44:00.001-05:00

Can decide when you walk out the door but not when you come back.
So take that first step and know it might be your last.
Can lay yourself to waste or try to keep that grace.

Gotta Get Back

2009-12-06T00:21:00.002-05:00

Sorry. I know it's been a long time between updates. I've been busy at work. Really busy, but that's not an excuse. If I'm going to write then I really need to do it.

I know that I also need to do it outside of the home. I can't do it here. I'm powerless over Internet porn. Maybe if I write I'll realize it. Until I deal with it though, it's tough for me to work at home. On the one hand, I guess an almost 45 year-old man who can get off four times a day isn't so bad. But it is a time sucker and I know it's not about sex. It's about taking myself out of myself.

There is this real cool coffee shop just a few blocks away. I could even walk there if I wanted to not worry about parking. I need to just start going there and trying to write. Especially on a night like this when I don't have anything going on. I thought I might have a date tonight, but not the case. I'm OK with that too. I've been dating this one girl for about five weeks and it is going fine. I like her but am not in any rush to jump into anything. I don't feel I'm head-over-heels but then again the last few times I've gone that route it really hasn't worked it out so well, as we all know.

She's pretty, in her late-30s, never married. She's slightly damaged, which is good for me. She's in between careers. Good sense of humor. We're going very slow on the physical stuff and I'm OK with that too. The minute you sleep together, it ups the ante and no need to jump into anything.

I have a date with someone else tomorrow night. It's a second date with this girl someone in the program set me up with. She's much younger, 30 or 32. My friend didn't realize what a geezer I was.

I don't really want to date multiple people, this just worked out that way. The one I'm going out with tomorrow is nice but I'm not sure. I figure this next date will decide if I want a third and really complicate things. Of course, the first girl and I have no agreement and we've hardly fooled around besides some making out so really, not doing anything bad here.

I got a raise at work! I took a pretty big pay cut to come back to journalism and this raise is nice. I'm not back to where I was nor would I expect that to happen. But I'm now making the most I've ever made as a reporter and the raise I got was 30%!!

Going to DC next week. My brother is having a heart operation. It's not major. I mean anything they slice you open and play with your heart, it's major. But this should be fairly routine. Nonetheless, it is important to go back and show up. It's what I do.

I'm really glad I'm back here in LA even if I'm at home on a Saturday night. It's the first Saturday I've been alone for a long time so really is not that big a deal.

I will once again pledge to try to write more. I only have four or five of you readers so I should at least do this a few times a week.

By the way, Pandora is a great music site.

Melrose

2009-11-19T02:00:00.001-05:00

Left for dead.
Finished at 21.
Wouldn't know it to see her today, but she had to pay.
If I can have half her grace maybe I'll find my place.

Sense of Humor

2009-11-15T02:21:00.004-05:00

I wonder what a normal second date is like.

I'm guessing it's not like the one I had tonight. There was nothing wrong with the date I had tonight, mind you, but I wonder what normal is like.

So what happened? Nothing dramatic. We went for Thai food. She ordered something I certainly wouldn't have ordered. Then we went to Groundlings show. It was actually kind of funny and I was enjoying myself. It doesn't happen too often. She left to go to the bathroom and then informed me at intermission that the meal wasn't exactly working for her.

We left, which is fine with me. Then we talked for awhile on the street about different things. I am probably way too open. It is a combination of years of therapy and recovery and, frankly age. I simply don't care anymore. I am who I am. I don't hide myself anymore. I'm an open book. I don't know how to make small talk. I think it is a good thing, but I know it is also disarming.

That has nothing to do with anything. Just sort of talking here. Anyway, she told me that she had quit her job to care for her mother who was dying of cancer. She hadn't really shared that with anyone yet (I mean in dating) and she is still trying to find her way back and get past grieving, etc. I feel for her, I really do. Of course, the last girl I dated broke up with me because her sister had cancer (or so she said that was the reason, a month later she was dating someone else, but I'll go with what she told me) so the irony of now dating someone who is still trying to recover from such a loss is, well, funny. I can see it now. I'll date her for three weeks and start to fall for her. She'll then end it, saying she's not ready and then a month later be with someone else. That's what I do, I help people get to the next stage. It's a tremendous sacrifice on my part but I'm glad to be of service.

Sarcasm aside, I like this girl and would like to know her better and see where it goes and I will certainly ask her out again (which she seems surprised by given her bad stomach and candor). But I'm going in with eyes open. If she's not ready, I'm not going to force anything. I need to protect myself. And if I sound like a jerk here so be it. I've spent my life not taking care of myself first and it hasn't really worked out too well.

She already knows all my history (like I said, open book).

Still, maybe soon I'll have an ordinary date. You know, the type where you talk about your favorite food and how you like museums and hiking and long walks.

So...

2009-11-08T02:26:00.004-05:00

Can you be Twitter stalked? I just want to know why someone who broke my heart can't seem to decide whether to follow me on Twitter.

I know this sounds really stupid and trivial and it is, but put yourself in my shoes. Someone plunges a knife in you. Your response is to respect that. You don't pursue them after they've dropped you. You don't humiliate yourself or make them think that you are going to try to win them back even after your own path has brought you back to the city you left ten years ago that she happens to live in. She even goes out of her way to make clear that she's not interested by sending you a note letting you know she's with someone else. You wish her happiness and move on.

Except every few months she starts following your stupid twitter feed. Then she disappears. Then she comes back. Then she goes. Then she asks why you don't follow hers. You explain that for your own protection you just don't really want to, etc. She claims to understand and then later stops following you. And now she's started again.

I shouldn't care but it is annoying. She doesn't need to do it for work. Yes, we're both reporters covering the same business but frankly all my stuff gets put out on Twitter through another feed anyway so....

I'm going to see her next week (I know this because we will both likely be covering the same event) and I will again resist the urge to ask what the fuck is up with her and my Twitter feed. I'm tempted just to say I don't care one way or another but could you just make up your mind. Of course, any gesture on my part is giving up the power. Not that I have any, but she doesn't need to know that.

Yeah, this was a waste of six paragraphs but I just had to get it out of me. And yes, I could just block her but again that seems trivial.

Shoot first, aim later

2009-10-30T19:31:00.005-04:00

Guess it's time for real update vs. a chapter in a story that maybe I'll do something with sometime.

Passed the six month mark at the job and in the port of last resort. It's a slow Friday and I'm being lazy. I should be working on a story proposal but I just don't feel like it right now. I need to chill.

The bloom is off the rose. I don't regret anything but now that the first six months has passed, the newness with it is gone. Yes, I'm back. Yes, I proved I could still do it. The game has changed a little since I left. Lot more shoot first, aim later. I still have game. Move over, Brett Favre, I'm back. All that shit.

And it's still not enough. I'm passed four years without a drink and almost three years without a smoke. I sometimes crave the latter, I'm doing fine without the former.

I've been on some dates since I've been out here but nothing took. There were two that I liked but they didn't go any where. Next weekend, in a most un-Rambler move I am going to New Mexico for a few days to reconnect with a friend/lover who will be there for a conference or something. I need to get away. The job is very draining and I'm as hard on myself as ever.

Still doing the AA thing. Meetings here are different but I'm not going to bore you with all that crap. I still go five-to-six times a week and am gradually getting to know people. It's not easy. I had risen pretty high up the ranks of the recovery chain in NYC and now I'm at the bottom again.

I am reworking my steps and was doing my inventory or resentment list as it is sometimes known and I think I'm my biggest resentment. Yes, I still hate myself.

And, if you've been paying attention, I've been trying to do some more creative writing. That last effort is not finished but for now I need a break from it. I have an idea for another story that isn't quite so tawdry.

On the family front, life is creeping up. Got a brother who is having heart surgery and a mother who has seen better days.

That's the update.

One of those days

2009-10-30T19:26:00.001-04:00

She's Nothing But Trouble XIV

2009-10-24T03:04:00.003-04:00

They say you can control if you go out. You can't control if you come back.

Now I know what they meant. I had often wondered how I'd go. To be honest, I always figured I'd have coke-induced heart attack after a night with a whore, porn, phone sex and loneliness. Then I'd rot for at least three days before someone would come looking for me. Hopefully there'd be enough food in the cat dishes so they wouldn't start chewing on me. And until the toxicology came back, my mom would think I just had some undetected heart defect. I was usually pretty good at cleaning up the scene of the crime after my binges.

Then I got sober and the grim reality that I might actually live a long time started to sink in. We all keep living longer and I'm not so sure it's such a good idea. We're not built to take care of all these 80 year-olds. I'd rather go out while I was still in control of my shit.

And now I wasn't in control of anything. I was the wrong place at the wrong time guy you always read about in the New York Post. There would be a page one story in The New York Times when this was all over about how the lives of two New Yorks converged in one bloody night in East Harlem. Some 25 year-old chump would write the story I dreamed of writing that would win the Pulitzer. He'd feast off of our wrong turn. Hell, it would probably become a book and then a movie.

On the plus side, everyone who thought they knew me would be blown away at how I went out. Every girl I'd ever been with would suddenly reevaluate every minute we were together to see what signs they had missed. They'd count their blessings and instead of some sarcastic asshole who couldn't be faithful that they'd wasted a few years with, I'd become their cautionary tale. Their brush with danger.

"Did you know he was into all that?," their friends would ask.

"Well, he definitely had an edge to him," the girls all say back.

Yes, I was about to die and this was the kind of shit running through my head. Audrey was on the couch with her head resting on her knees. Jake's eyes were closed and he was talking to himself and holding Audrey's hand. I was still in the kitchen looking at a half-empty beer calling my name. Fuck it, if I was going out I must well have some more beer. I reached out and grabbed the bottle and chugged it down. Victor turned and looked at me and didn't say anything. In fact no one was saying anything. Lucia was passed out or in shock. Tino had wrapped her hand and at least stopped the bleeding. I don't think that finger is getting back on her hand. When Victor looked away from me I slipped the bottle into my pocket.

"Can I have a cigarette," I asked Victor.

"Fuck, I don't care, have your last cigarette," he said.

I reached into my pocket and grabbed a fresh pack and opened it up and lit a smoke. Audrey looked up at me. I shrugged and tossed her the pack. She took one, lit it and handed the pack to Jake. Pretty soon the whole room was smokey. Victor opened up the window, the one I had almost climbed out of earlier for a smoke. The one with the fire escape.

I didn't know what my plan was, but getting that window open was definitely part one. Part two somehow involved the bottle and the knife that I was still carrying and part three would have something to do with that stash of money.

While I was busy fantasizing, Ricky walked over to Hector and whispered in his ear.

"Shit man, I don't care. Do what you want," Hector said.

Ricky then walked over to the couch and grabbed Audrey.

"Get off of me."

"Come on honey, time to have some fun."

"Don't do this," she pleaded.

"Don't fight it," he said.

He pulled her from the couch and dragged her to the bedroom. Audrey grabbed her purse. Jake and I sat there like pussies. To be fair, there wasn't much we could do and honestly, it was now two against two.

I looked over at Jake and tried to make eye contact but he was still in another world.

"Jake, you OK?"

"No, I'm not OK. I'm not OK at all. I don't even know what I'm doing here. I don't even know you. An hour ago I'm sitting in a bar minding my own business and now I'm about to die. I mean, what the fuck?"

"Yeah, it's messed up."

Just then there was noise from down the hall. Audrey was screaming and then there was a loud crash.

"Now shut up already bitch," Ricky said.

I could hear him tearing at her dress. I looked out the window and in the building across the way but no one looked back.

The bed in the other room begun to squeak. Audrey was crying. Ricky was breathing heavy. The bed begin to really crash into the wall. All of a sudden the noise stopped. I looked at Jake and then at Victor and Hector. Then the bed started to move again.
I grabbed another cigarette and had just lit it when Audrey screamed again.

"No, don't please."

There was another crash and Audrey screamed again.

Victor nodded at Hector who went down the hall to see what was going on.

Hector knocked on the door.

"Ricky, what the fuck?," Hector said.

There was no answer.

I could hear Hector start to open the door. Victor also moved towards the hallway. I reached into my pocket and got the bottle out. Tino watched me and nodded his head and grabbed another bottle.

Hector opened the door.

"Ricky? Girl what the fuck did you do. Fuck"

Now it was time for Hector to scream. It was more of a gurgle. He came staggering out of the hall clutching his throat as blood spurted out on the floor and collapsed into the living room

Not wanting to waste a moment and having no idea what the fuck was going on I threw my bottle as hard as I could at Victor and got him in the back. Tino then smashed him in the head with his bottle and shoved him to the ground, grabbed his gun and pumped two bullets into him.

Audrey came out of the bedroom covered in blood.

"Are you OK."

"No, I'm not OK, I'm pretty fucked up. But that mother fucker's dead."

"I think everyone's dead," I said.

"Except us."

She's Nothing But Trouble XIII

2009-10-18T19:21:00.004-04:00

The butt of the gun clipped me on the side of the head. It hurt. At least it wasn't a bullet. Small favors.

If that wasn't bad enough, the impact of the hit sent me flying into the wall and then I hit the ground and landed right on the empty bottle in my jacket, which promptly shattered sending glass fragments into my chest and stomach. Audrey screamed and Jake turned around and ran back to the door. The guy who hit me went after Jake, got him by the back of his jacket and threw him to the ground. Another guy came out of door two with a gun drawn. Audrey's ring was definitely not worth all this.

"Where do you think you're going?," he barked.

"Uh, I was ... "

I rolled over on my back and said, "He was going to put another quarter in the meter."

That got me a swift kick in the ribs which had the dual effect of reminding me about restraint of pen and tongue and driving a few more glass fragments into me.

"You think you're funny?," our host asked. "Who the fuck are you anyway."

Audrey, the public relations expert decided this would be a good time to explain our presence and try out her

"Hi, I'm Audrey. We were here earlier and left something here and came back to get it," she said in her calm voice.

"Oh yeah, what'd you leave?," psycho number one asked.

"I left a ring here," Audrey said. "I'm Audrey, by the way, what's your name."

I was still on the ground and in pain or I would've rolled my eyes.

"I heard you the first time bitch." Then he looked down at me and Jake, who was also still on the ground.

"And who the fuck are these two?"

Audrey introduced us. Shouldn't someone say what a lovely evening and would we like some tea?

"Get up," psycho number one said to me and Jake.

Jake hopped up. Me? I took a little longer. Too long I guess because the next thing I knew psycho number two was grabbing me and pulling me up. Then we were escorted down the hall and into the living room.

Once in there we were greeted by the sight of Lucia and Tino bound and gag to their chairs in the little kitchen and a third psycho standing by them. Lucia and Tino looked at us and each other.

"Who are they?," psycho number one asked Lucia and Tino.

Psycho number three took off Tino's gag.

"They're nobody man. Just customers," Then to us, "Audrey, what the fuck are you doing back here?"

"I came back for my ring," she said.

"Ring?"

"Yeah, that one stole my ring."

Tino looked at Lucia who rolled her eyes.

"That's it, they're customers?," said psycho number one.

"Yeah Victor, that's it they don't have anything to do with this shit so let them go."

I resisted the urge to say that sounded like a good plan.

Victor looked us all over and then looked at Audrey.

"Where's this ring you came for?," he asked.

Audrey looked at Lucia and pointed.

"It's on her hand," she said.

Victor looked at the psycho number three.

"Ricky, get this bitch her ring back from that bitch."

Ricky walked over to Lucia and without hesitating pulled out a knife and cutoff her ring finger and tossed it, ring attached at Audrey.

"There's your ring bitch, " Ricky said while blood spurted out of the base of where Lucia's ring finger used to be and she bit through her gag and screamed. Ricky grabbed a beer from the table and poured it onto Lucia's wound.

"That'll keep it clean babe."

"Aren't you going to take your ring Audrey?," Victor asked.

Audrey looked at Lucia's finger on the floor and threw up.

"Whoa, you better not puke on me bitch," Victor said. Then he bent over and picked up the finger and put it in Audrey's face.

"Now take your ring back. You came all this way for it."

Audrey reached out and took the ring off the finger and then started to run down the hall when psycho number three grabbed her.

"Let me go, I'm going to throw up again."

"Let her go Hector, it's OK."

Hector let Audrey go and she ran in the bathroom and we all got to hear her barf into the toilet.

I looked over at Lucia whose eyes were moist and her skin was pale. She was still bleeding profusely and looked like she was going into shock.

I looked at Victor, who was still holding Lucia's finger.

"Can we at least put the finger on ice," I said.

"What?," Victor said.

"It could still be reattached."

"You care about her?," Victor asked me. Then he threw the finger at me, took out his gun, walked over to Lucia and pointed it her head.

I caught the finger and staggered to the kitchen. My head still hurt but I wasn't bleeding. My chest was cut up from the bottle and blood had soaked through my shirt, but I was OK. I opened the freezer and put Lucia's finger on ice.

"Victor, don't," Tino pleaded.

"What? You think you have any say in what happens to her, Tino. You're next you don't give me what I'm after."

"I told you, I don't have it."

The toilet flushed. Audrey came out and walked back towards us.

"You feel better honey?," Victor asked.

Audrey kept silent.

"Hope you at least brushed your teeth. I don't want to be tasting puke later."

Audrey started to back down the hall but Hector grabbed her arms.

"Just stay there," Hector said.

I opened the fridge and grabbed a beer and twisted the cap off.

"What the fuck are you doing?," Victor asked. "You just open up someone's fridge and take what you want? Who the fuck raised you?"

"Sorry, I'm thirsty."

"Put the fucking beer down and get over there and sit down. Hector, put the other two over there."

I sat in a chair at the table by the kitchen while Audrey and Jake were shoved on the couch.

"You're awfully quiet big boy," Hector said to Jake.

Jake sat there. His eyes were tearing up.

"Don't kill me," he said.

"Yeah, it's a little late for that," Victor answered. "You're all dead."

She's Nothing But Trouble XII

2009-10-11T23:34:00.009-04:00

"So Jake, what's your story," I asked our guest.

"Uh, what do you mean," he said.

"I mean, what do you do in our fair city?"

"Oh, I'm an actor and a personal trainer."

"Really?"

Damn. I thought for sure he was some Wall Street douche bag or lawyer. I felt a little guilty about dragging some struggling actor into our little drama to be a backup in a fight he doesn't know he's about to walk into. Oh well. When you're on the way down, you take hostages.

Our cab moved pretty fast. We were already at 105th Street.

"You been in anything I would've seen?" I asked. I don't know why I was so chatty. I hated people.

"I don't know. I've done some commercials and theatre, nothing big."

"Holy shit, I know where I've seen you," Audrey suddenly chimed in.

"Where?," Jake said.

"You were in that commercial for Tratorria's. You're the `try the gnocchi' guy."

Tratorria's was this cheesy restaurant chain that made Olive Garden look like Rao's.

"Yeah, that was me," Jake said excitedly.

"That ad's been on for like, what, three years?," she asked.

"Something like that. I still get a check every now and then."

I finished Jake's beer and handed Audrey the empty.

"What am I supposed to do with this?," she said.

"I don't know, put it in your bag."

"Fuck you," she said, tossing it on my lap. I grabbed it and stuck it inside my pocket.

"Hey, you got any more beers," Jake said. "I barely got any of that one."

"Sure gnocchi guy," Audrey said handing him one.

"What about me?" I asked.

"Suck on the empty," she said.

"I do something wrong," I asked.

"You know what you did," came the response.

"No, I know what I'm doing and I know what I didn't do so I don't see the problem."

"The problem is that it shouldn't have even been an issue in the first place."

Great, I failed the man test without even failing it.

The cab pulled was stopped at 112th. I looked down the street and saw a group of people hanging outside a church having a smoke and drinking coffee. Audrey and Jake watched me watching them.

"What, is it bingo night there or something?" Jake asked.

"Yeah, something like that," I said. Although this was out of my neighborhood, I thought I actually recognized a dude there from my lunch meeting. A crackhead named Edwin who kept going in and out. Looked like he was in tonight.

The light turned and the church disappeared from view. About a minute later we were at 116th. The cab stopped. Audrey paid and we all got out.

"Hey can I get a swig," I said to Jake when we were on the street.

"Sure," he handed me his beer.

I took a sip and handed it back and lit a cigarette and looked up the street at Tino's building. There were still people hanging on the street but the stoop itself was clear.

"We going to call first?," I asked.

"We don't need to," Audrey said. "You know Tino. We can just pop in."

"Great, I'm sure drug dealers love the pop-in as much as us regular folks."

Jake laughed a nervous laugh.

"Don't worry, Jake. He's just being a jerk and anyway, you're a big guy."

"Yeah, Jake you'll be fine. I'm going to get a pack of smokes."

I turned and walked to the corner bodega and bought some Marlboros. I don't know why. I had a pack-and-a-half in my jacket and she had at least a pack.

While I was pulling out my wallet I looked in the mirror above the register and saw four guys in the back just hanging out. They caught my glance and I looked away and when the cashier handed me my change I hustled out of there. I'd made the fatal New York mistake and made eye contact with strangers and I don't know why but those guys gave me a bad vibe. Actually, I did know why. They looked like bad guys. The last thing I needed to be was an appetizer for whatever their big meal was.

"OK, boy and girl ready to roll?," I said when I hit the street.

We crossed the street and headed to Tino's building. Audrey tried the door and it was locked. She started to hit the buzzer.

"I thought the buzzer was broke," I said.

"Maybe you should call," Jake said.

Audrey kept pushing the button when all of a sudden the door buzzed and I grabbed it.

"Well, I guess it got fixed," she said.

We started the climb up the stairs. It was quieter now. I was in the lead with Audrey next to me and Jake behind. It was not the order I would have chosen.

We reached the top of the stairs and I knocked on the door, which was slightly ajar.

"Come on in," a new voice said.

I looked at Audrey and raised my eyebrows a little. Her eyes said "what?" back at me.

I rolled my eyes and pushed the door open and walked in with Audrey and Jake behind me. The long hall was dark as was the living room but there was light coming from the kitchen.

"We're in the kitchen," the voice said again as we proceeded into the hallway. The door had just shut behind us and I was getting ready to say something when I felt a breeze as door number two suddenly swung open I turned quick enough to see the gun, but not quick enough to get out of the way.

Of You

2009-10-07T01:48:00.002-04:00

Caught a whiff of you tonight.
Missed the scent and the pain I know so well.
Chased after for a little while.
Then opted for a fresher hell.

Searching for a new wound.
Something else to lay me out.
Some other blood ready to spill.
Some other pain to break my will

She's Nothing But Trouble XI

2009-10-06T23:54:00.007-04:00

"Can we at least finish our drinks first," I pleaded with Audrey.

She grabbed hers and chugged it and slammed it back down on the bar so loud that even the bartender looked up.

"Done. Let's go."

"Look, we need a plan. We can't just go barging back in there."

"You're right. I'll call, tell him that bitch stole my ring and I need it back and he'll come right down here with it."

"Sounds good, lets do that."

"Look, I'm going up there, you coming or you going to let me go up there by myself."

I love when women whip out that one. She's about to do something stupid and if I don't go along I'm a pussy who won't fight for her honor. I've been there before and when a girl thinks you won't go to the mat for her you're done. Once years ago this guy kept grabbing my date's ass. We were all sitting together and he was drunk. She could've moved her seat but didn't. I, of course, offered to say something and she said no. The point was that I shouldn't have offered, I should've gotten up and punched the guy out.

And she was right. I should've and that was among the five moments in my life I'd like to do over again. I'll tell you the four other ones later although I have a feeling that one of them is about to be replaced.

"Why can't you call Tino and see if he can get the ring back," I asked.

"Hello? Did you not figure it out? She runs the show. He's afraid of her."

"So am I," I said only half-kidding.

"Anyway, I don't think she took it to keep it, she's going to sell it so we need to move."

"What, is it worth that much?"

"It's not worth a ton but she doesn't know that."

"See, I don't think she took to to sell. I think she took it to get at you," I said.

"Fine, I don't really a give a shit why she took it or what her deep psychological reason for it was. I just want my mother fucking ring back. I told you, my dad gave that to me before he died."

That sealed it. Yes, we were going back to 116th Street.

"OK, fine. Let me get one more beer and give me some fuel. If I'm going to get killed I don't want to feel it."

"Fine," Audrey said, reaching into her purse and handing me a pack of a cigarettes. "It's in there."

"Just like I used to do," I said grabbing the pack and heading off to the bathroom.

I walked to the back of the bar and stopped by the jukebox.

Well some say life will beat you down
Break your heart, steal your crown
So I started out for God knows where
But I guess Ill know when I get there

I listened to Petty until the end of the song and when it was followed up with Journey I went into the bathroom. Fuck. There was no lock on the door. I'd have to hit the stall and be quiet. Oh well, I was a pro. I went into the stall just as someone else came into to use the urinal. I waited until I heard a flush and then used the noise as a cover to do a couple of bumps. I got that nice quick jolt and an almost instant drip. I flushed my toilet and walked out of the stall. The other guy was at the sink washing up as I walked up, still sniffing slightly.

"You carrying?," he asked.

"Huh?," I said pretending not to understand what he was saying.

"You got any you can spare. Just say yes or no, but don't pretend man, I could hear your teeth grinding from outside the can. I just need a little hit."

He didn't look like a cop and I had to think that a cop would have something better to do then hangout in some wannabe Irish bar busting Upper East Side douche bags. On the other hand, if I were a cop that's what I'd want to do. Plus if I did get busted it would get me out of going back to East Harlem.

"Sure man, help yourself," I said, handing him the smokes.

"Wow, thanks man, appreciate it. I'm Jake," he said holding out his hand.

I shook it and introduced myself. He went into the stall and got a fix and came back out.

"Thanks again, good shit."

"Yeah, it's fresh. Not cut up with crap," I said.

"You got any you want to sell?"

"I don't, but I know someone who does if you want to take a little trip."

"Where?," he asked.

"116th Street?"

"Uh ..."

"Hey, I know, but it's for real. I'm not trying to rip you off. You found me. My girlfriend's at the bar and we were just going up there on a run so if you want to come feel free. It's safe," I said.

He thought about it for a few minutes and then said, "fuck it, lets do it."

The two of us headed out of the bathroom and I led us over to Audrey who was already by the door.

"Audrey, this is Jake."

Audrey looked at Jake and me and Jake again.

"Uh, hi. You two know each other?"

"Not exactly, but Jake wanted to go with us on our little errand. Seems he needs some supplies. Tino won't mind us coming with some new business, right?" I asked with what for me passes for a wink.

"No, that should be just fine," Audrey said giving Jake a once over.

"Who knows, maybe we'll get a discount for the referral," I said getting a laugh out of her and Jake.

The three of us headed out into the street and started to look for a cab. Jake looked just a tad apprehensive.

"You good?," I asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm cool," he said nervously as the cab Audrey flagged pulled up.

"I told you, it's fine. You want a beer? She has some in her bag."

"Sure," he said.

The three of us piled in with Audrey in the middle and I asked her to hand me a beer.

I opened it, took a swig and handed it to Jake. Then I grabbed the magic pack of smokes and tried to make myself feel more indestructible. Audrey grabbed the pack and did some and handed it to Jake who poured some on his hand and snorted it up. Audrey then took his hand and licked the residue off. Maybe she was practicing getting her ring back.

"Sorry, I just didn't want it to go to waste," Audrey said with a wink.

"Uh, yeah OK," Jake said.

I wasn't sure if that move was her being fucked up, a flirt, mad at me or just crazy. But whatever it was, it kind of turned me on.

I grabbed Jake's beer and took a swig as the cab started to race back up First Avenue.

"What I'd tell you man," I said taking out a Marlboro lighting it and rolling down the window.

"Nothing but fun here."

She's Nothing But Trouble X

2009-10-03T21:13:00.008-04:00

So here we all sat in East Harlem. Me, the 40-ish event planner on night one of his relapse. My hot co-worker who I finally had sex with and now wishes I hadn't. Her drug dealer who may actually be sober and his hot friend or boss or partner who definitely wasn't.

Oh, and the mystery behind door number two. Yes, it was turning into quite the Friday night.

You ever have one of those nights where you feel like you are watching a movie of yourself? You know this is not going to turn out well and yet you can't stop. You have to see how it ends rather than walk out now in once piece. That's how I felt. This was not going to turn out well.

Tino sat back down and watched us drink. I suddenly had to get off that couch, at least for a second.

"I have to go to the bathroom, is that all right?," I asked in my best Michael Corleone.

Tino pointed down the hall and said, "sure." I was kind of disappointed that he didn't say, "you gotta go, you gotta go."

I got up from the couch and walked down the hall. The bathroom was in between door number three and door number two. I walked quietly down the hall, went into the bathroom and shut the door as quietly as I could. There was no lock on the door. I put my ear next to the wall but couldn't really hear anything from door number two. I heard a lot of clicking. A video game? Maybe. At least one person in there though. I unzipped my pants and started to take a loud piss. I even grabbed a cup, filled it with water and poured that down the toilet. Then I opened the window, which was too small to climb out of and there was no escape there anyway. There was a tiny ledge.

Then I looked in the medicine cabinet. I saw a bottle of pills. It said Xanax. I grabbed three and put them in my pocket. I'd need them for the come down later. I flushed and jiggled the handle and then, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I opened up the top of the toilet. I don't know what I was expecting to find. I was probably hoping for a gun or a big bag of blow. Every few months you'd read a story in The Post about some homeless guy finding a kilo in an abandoned couch. This was better. Sealed up in plastic bags were stacks of bills. I'm not crazy. As tempting as it was it would take them about seven seconds to figure out where their money went.

I washed up and came back to the living room. Lucia was now sitting next to Audrey looking at her jewelry and Tino was on the other side of Audrey. Great, I was being squeezed out. I took Lucia's chair, picked up the tray and did a line. Then I took a swig and lit a cigarette. I did all this too fast and started to dry heave a little. I was starting to remember why I gave this shit up. The self-loathing. The coughing and puking. The finding yourself in scary apartments with drug dealers. Yeah, good times.

"You OK, sweetie?" Audrey asked.

"Yeah," I said gasping a little. "Just went down the wrong way," I added before taking a swig of beer.

"Really?," Lucia said. "You know how to go down the right way, because I haven't found a boy yet who does."

I swallowed my beer, laughed and said, "I don't get too many complaints."

Lucia turned to Audrey and started stroking her hair.

"What about that honey, does he do you right?"

Audrey's body tensed to Lucia's touch.

"Damn girl, chill. I'm not going to bite you, as much as I want to."

"Sorry," Audrey said, "that's not my thing."

"Don't be sorry," Lucia said. "Night's still early."

Audrey looked at me and grabbed her purse.

"Bathroom's down the hall right?" she asked. Tino nodded. Audrey got up and headed to the bathroom.

"Why you gotta fuck with everyone like that," Tino asked Lucia as Audrey shut the bathroom door.

"Fuck you, that bitch is too uptight," she said, before turning to me, "no offense."

I finished my cigarette and smiled. Lucia grabbed the tray and fueled up and handed it to me. I knew I didn't need anymore but does anyone ever turn it down when it's right in front of you? I did a tiny bit, not wanting a repeat of the heaves.

Then the toilet flushed and a few seconds later Audrey came back into the room.

"Well, we should probably be going," she said, putting her arm on my shoulder and squeezing hard.

I started to get up and grab my jacket.

"Do we have everything," I asked.

"Yes, we're good, " Audrey said.

She walked over to Tino and hugged him good bye then she extended her hand to Lucia, who shook it and then put her other hand on top of Audrey's hand.

"I'm sorry if I freaked you out honey," Lucia said.

"You didn't, but thank you," Audrey said.

"Good," Lucia said before leaning close and whispering something in Audrey's ear before gently biting and kissing it. Then she let her hand go.

"Well, on that note...," I said.

We started to walk down the hall, past door number two and the front door.

"Come back later, if you get bored, Lucia said.

"Sure thing," I said.

"I didn't mean you," she said.

Audrey gave me a slight shove to the door and we exited and made our way back down the stairs and into the street.

"What now," I said.

"I think I want to go to home," Audrey said.

The way she said it made it clear that she meant by herself. I didn't press. I should be grateful. We got out of there in one piece. Audrey did have the baggies though and if we were splitting up then I'd need to get my consolation prize.

"You want company?"

"I want a drink."

We walked up to Second Avenue and flagged a cab.

"85th Street please," Audrey said.

"Hey do you still have those beers in your bag," I asked.

"Yes," she said, reaching in to grab one for me.

I opened it up and took a swig and handed it to her.

"No, I need a whiskey."

The cab pulled up to 85th. We got out. I finished the beer and tossed the bottle into a can and we into a little bar.

"Get me a Jack and Coke," I'll be right back, she said as we entered. The place was packed with preps and Bon Jovi was blasting out of the jukebox. Nothing like hearing frat boys singing "Living on a Prayer."

Audrey walked to the back to the bathroom and I ordered her drink and a beer for myself. A few minutes later she appeared with a definite bounce in her step.

"Feeling better," I said.

"I am now," she said, sniffling a little.

"Well," I said, handing her drink to her, "here's to adventure."

We clinked our glasses together and I took a swig of my beer but Audrey just kept staring at her glass.

"Mother fucker," she said staring at the glass in her hand.

"What."

"That fucking cunt."

"What."

"My ring. That fucking cunt lifted my ring."

Audrey took a big gulp of her drink and slammed it on the bar.

"That mother fucking cunt." Then she grabbed my hand.

"Let's go."

"Go where?"

"We're going back."

"Audrey."

"No," she said not letting me finish. "My father gave me that ring and I'm not going to let some skank dyke rip me off."

Never bang a daddy's girl.

Four Years

2009-09-26T02:05:00.003-04:00

I'm probably supposed to say something bold or dramatic right now. Tell you how I climbed out of the dark and into the light. Or thrill you with some tale of debauchery from my past. The truth is none of that shit matters. It's been four years since I drank a beer or put a line of coke up my nose. The self-loathing that came with it still runs deep but it won't knock me down. I can sit here and look clearly at where I was and what I did and the time I wasted and the pain I caused to myself and others and move on.

If you told me a year ago that I'd fall in love, have my heart shattered, quit my job, go back to my old career, leave New York, come to LA and basically blow my life up, I'd have said no fucking way. But if you told me I'd do all that without a drink or a drug, I'd believe you. That much I know. Nothing out there so bad that a drink will make it better. Nothing so horrible that a line of blow won't make worse.

Was on a subway once wishing I was under it when a guy I didn't know looked at me. He said three words that only meant something to him and me. He made me remember what mattered. That guy doesn't know it but he may have saved my life. For him I'm grateful today.

She's Nothing But Trouble IX

2009-09-19T18:36:00.009-04:00

We made our way passed the guardians of the stoop to the buzzer. They were too busy trying catch a peak up Audrey's dress to bother with me too much.

"It's busted," a voice behind us said.

"How do we get in?," I asked.

"You don't," he said with a laugh. "You wait for someone to come out."

"You don't want to just open the door," I said as Audrey tightened her grip on my hand.

"I don't know you, for all I know you're the man."

I resisted the urge to say that I was the man, just not that man.

"Who you here to see?," he asked.

"Tino," Audrey chimed in.

"Shit, that figures," he said. "Drop into our little world to buy your poison and then forget you were ever here."

Was this guy a punk or an activist? One minute he thinks were cops and the next he's moralizing.

Just then someone came out of the building and I held the door open as he walked past and Audrey and I went in.

"Yeah, go get your high on yuppies," our philosophical homie shouted after us.

He didn't really say yuppies did he? I resisted the urge to yell back, "true dat" and headed up the stairs. This whole scene was turing into a cliche, but then again my life was a cliche so why should this night be any different?

We begin to climb the stairs which were not as dirty as I thought. In fact the building looked about as clean as mine and I'm guessing the rents were one-third what I was paying. Hmmm, couldn't wait to see what the inside of Tino's place looked like. Even on a drug deal in East Harlem New Yorkers are still obsessed with real estate and who might be getting a better deal. Plus, if I was going back out, didn't it make sense to actually have a dealer in the building? You can't usually get those sorts of amenities below 96th Street.

Still I'd be lying if I didn't say a part of me was a little disappointed. I was hoping Harvey Keitel would be kicking down a door. Visions of Lou Reed passed out in a doorway had filled my mind. Yes, I was a little bit obsessed with the bad old days. I missed that New York. I caught the tale end of the 70s here, albeit from the comfort of Montclair, New Jersey. Still, I'd come into the city to visit my father and he'd take me down to Greenwich Village. Someone back then used to draw chalk outlines of bodies like the ones you see in crime scenes. Everything felt dangerous then. Now most of the city felt like a strip mall. Thank you Mike Bloomberg.

We got up to the fifth floor and knocked on the door. There was music from the other side but it wasn't Kanye West or Jay-Z. It was, I strained my ears, yes, it was The Stones. I could hear "Miss You" coming through the wall. Who knows, maybe I'd get my seventies night after all.

There was some shuffling and then a voice.

"Who dat?"

Well, it wasn't "true dat," but it was close enough.

"Tino? It's Audrey."

The door opened a little and the kid from the hotel stuck his face out.

"Who's he?," Tino said looking at me.

"He's my friend."

"You look familiar," he said.

I shrugged.

"I know you?," he asked.

"I don't think so," I said, hoping he didn't really see me at the hotel earlier that afternoon. He might assume that I was stalking him instead of her.

"OK, well we were only expecting her but come on in."

"Thanks."

He swung open the door and we walked into a railroad apartment. Tino led us down a long hall past three bedrooms, all with the doors shut, and a bathroom. At the end of the hall was a living room and the kitchen was next to it. In the kitchen around a little table were three kids filling baggies.

"Great, I get to see the sausage get made," I muttered to myself. Audrey dug her nails into my hand.

"Hey, grab a seat," Tino said pointing to a ratty looking couch against the wall of the living room next to a window that opened onto a fire escape.

"You want something to drink," he asked.

"Got any beer?," I asked.

"Cerveza," he barked to one of the kids at the table who got up went to the fridge and grabbed some bottles and brought them to me and Audrey. It was Bud. Might as well have asked for water. Even after four years clean and dry, this would still be weak.

"Thanks, " I said to the kid who just turned around went back to the table and picked up where he left off making little baggies.

"So," Tino said, "how much you want? As you can see I've got a sale going on."

I looked at Audrey and shrugged. Audrey held up five fingers.

"You got it sweetie, be right back."

Tino walked down the hall and went into the middle door. I heard some voices and a few minutes later he was back out. I wondered how many people were in this place right now.

He handed Audrey five bags and she handed him a wad of bills.

"You mind if I smoke," I asked.

"Well, can you go out on the fire escape?"

Great, a dealer with kids working for him selling crack was worried about second-hand smoke. The tobacco lobby really needs to kick it up a notch.

I got up and opened the window and started to climb onto the escape.

"Shit, it's alright man. Just smoke in here," he said.

"Thanks for the change of heart," I said.

I sat back on the couch.

"If you guys want to party a little here that's cool," he said.

"Well, we don't want to be in the way," Audrey said looking at the kids.

"You're not in the way, we're wrapping up for the evening anyway," he said before barking something in Spanish to the kids that sounded suspiciously like clean the shit up and get out. Well, better that than you hold the guy down while I fuck the shit out of the bitch. The kids begin to grab the baggies and throw them into a box.

A few minutes and a few bills later the kids were out of there. Now it was just down to me, Audrey, Tino and whoever was behind door number two. I almost wanted to ask but also realized it's probably best not to inquire.

Tino walked to the kitchen, came back out with a tray and straws and put it down on the table in front of us. I got the feeling that leaving without dipping in was not an option. I don't think Tino was quite yet sold on me.

Audrey started to open one of her bags but Tino waved his hands.

"Keep yours honey, this is on me."

"Thanks, that's sweet," she said.

Sweet seemed a weird thing to say but with Audrey everything was always sweet. I reached for my beer and another smoke while Tino put some powder on the tray for us and started to make some lines.

Just then, door number three opened up and a girl with nothing but a long t-shirt on came walking down the hall.

"Yo, what's with all the noise mother fucker, I need my beauty sleep."

She looked at Tino, then us, then the drugs. She bent down, dipped her finger into one of the lines and lifted it to her nose and inhaled it.

"Fuck it. I'm up now."

She sat down on the chair across from us and stretched her legs on the table, the shirt came down to about mid-thigh.

"I'm Lucia, who are you?," she asked.

Audrey introduced us while Tino went to the kitchen.

"You two together?," she asked us.

"Uh, yeah, at least right now," I said.

"You fine," she said.

"Uh, thanks," I said.

"Not you, her."

Maybe I wasn't going to be shot after all. Maybe I'd finally have the threesome that I was too cheap to pay for and that would never happen in AA. Sober girls tended to have gotten all that out of their system. Of course, I had a knack for finding girls who had already gotten their threesome out of their system.

"Those are some nice shoes," Lucia said.

"Thanks," Audrey said.

I noticed just the slightest bit of tension in Audrey's voice. Funny. Coming over here to score, not a big deal. Sitting here with Tino while the munchkins made baggies. Whatever. Some chick eye fucks her and she freaks out.

I looked back at Lucia who had shifted her legs to a most un-lady like position. I was drawn to the tattoo on her inner thigh.

"Nice ink," I said, regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth.

Lucia looked down at her thigh and lifted it up to give a better view.

"Thanks," she said.

"Did it hurt?," I asked.

"Felt good," she said.

I could feel Audrey's eyes burning into me but fuck it, a hot girl with a t-shirt on was flashing and I wasn't going to look away.

"Yo, Tino what the fuck you doing in there? Bring me a drink bitch."

"What about you two, are you together," I asked. Suddenly I was mister chatterbox.

"Fuck no," she said.

"Oh then ..." I started to say when Audrey jumped in.

"Hey Tino, can I have a beer too?"

"Beast of Burden" started to play as I grabbed my cigarette and took a deep drag.

"You got one of those for me baby?," Lucia said.

I reached into my pack and handed her a cigarette. She grabbed it and put it in her mouth and stared at me. I stared back and after a few seconds she looked down at the matches and back at me.

"This cigarette isn't going to light itself," she said.

"My bad," I said not believing I really just said "my bad."

I grabbed the matches stood over her and lit one and held it up to her cigarette. While I was doing that she shifted her legs and gently brushed her foot against my calf while she inhaled. I stepped back and sat down hoping my response to her little tease wasn't noticeable either in my pants or to Audrey. The former seemed fine, but the latter gave Lucia a look. While that look might have worked on some upper east side girl flirting with your boyfriend, to a girl like Lucia it didn't even register.

I'm delusional, but I didn't think for a second that Lucia had any interest in me. This was about everyone else in the room.

Tino came back out of the kitchen with a beer for Audrey, what looked like a margarita for Lucia and another beer for me.

"You not having anything," I asked.

"I don't drink," said Tino.

"Never?," I asked.

"It stopped working for me," he said.

Great, I found the only sober drug dealer in the city.

She's Nothing But Trouble VIII

2009-09-06T00:42:00.007-04:00

It had been dark for awhile when we hit the street. My gut told me this was a bad idea. I knew I should just bail. Call a pal and forget this night. Whatever was ahead was not going to be as fun as what was behind me.

At the same time, I was too wired to just sit around. The beast was awake.

"How much you have on you," she asked.

"I need to hit a machine."

"Me too."

"There's one at the Americana. Then we'll grab a cab."

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"You sound ... I don't know, not happy."

"I'm not happy."

"Why? You just got high and fucked and now you're about to do it again. What's the problem?

"I'm afraid I'll only get fucked this time."

"Would that be so bad?"

"Not what I meant."

"What then."

"Forget it."

I resisted the urge to tell her my story. Somehow telling someone you just had sex with that you tossed away your sobriety on them didn't seem like such a bright idea. But inside I was beating myself up. As soon as we got in the cab I was popping open one of those Coronas. I needed it bad.

At the deli I headed to the cooler and grabbed two of those big bottles of Corona while Audrey hit the cash machine. I watched her dig into her purse and pull out her card. Her dress was wrinkled and she definitely looked a little fucked up but still hot. I tried to will an erection. Anything to stop the rage that was racing through me making me want to run out in front of Broadway and get run over or go for some cop's gun and hope he'd shoot me.

I walked over to the money machine and took out $300. Actually it was $302.50 with the bullshit service charge but anyway. Audrey was at the register buying smokes.

"Get me two packs of reds, sweetie."

"OK honey," she said in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

I joined her at the register, plopped my beers down and bought a little bottle opener and threw it all in the bag. The guy behind the counter who had been making my cheeses steaks, fries and coffee for the past few years smiled at me.

"So, big night?," he asked.

"Huh.?"

"It's been a long time since you've bought any beer or smokes. Thought you'd turned over a new leaf."

I could feel Audrey's eyes on me as I waited for my change for the beers and the opener.

"Well," I said looking at her and then him, "sometimes a strong breeze comes in and blows the leaf right back."

"I hear that," he said, giving Audrey the once over.

I put the beers in Audrey's bag and headed out the door.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"What was what?

"What he said about turning over a new leaf."

"I don't know. Go to a different deli for awhile and someone looks for deep philosophical reasons for it."

"Uh huh," she said. "You're a bit of mystery mister, but I'll solve it."

"Tie me up and burn me and see if I talk."

"OK, but after we run our errand."

"We could skip it and just head to your place," I said hoping to change her mind about our little crosstown jaunt.

"If you want me to tie you up then I need fuel to make it worth your while."

I gave up. Frankly I didn't even want to be tied up. I was now officially going through the motions. Audrey was no different than everything else in my life. I always looked for someone or something to fill what was missing in me and never realizing that didn't work. Now that the chase was over there seemed to be little need to keep her around. For a split second I even thought of bailing. But this was like some bad movie that I was determined to see through to the end since I'd already thrown my money away.

We walked down Broadway towards 100th when a cab went by. I handed her the bag from the deli, hustled ahead and hit the trunk and he pulled over. Then I opened the door and Audrey climbed in, slid over put her bag down and crossed her legs causing her dress to ride up a little which was enough to remind me that things could be worse. I got in next to her, shut the door and told the driver to take us to First Avenue and 116th. Then I grabbed a beer from the bag, popped it open and took a swig and kissed her neck.

"Nice, but I'd rather have a sip," she said reaching for my beer.

"You want one?"

"No, I'll just share yours."

"What about you?," I said to the driver who, of course, was babbling in some Middle Eastern dialect on his cellphone. If Subway sandwich shops were Al-Qaeda sleeper cells, than the cabbies were the couriers spreading the word.

As we headed east and into Central Park I grabbed the beer from Audrey and kissed her while sliding my hand up her dress. I was half-expecting to feel flesh but she had indeed put her panties back on. I worked by hand under and started to tease her a little. Before I could progress the cab went into skid and nearly clipped a bus as came out the other side of the park.

"Sorry, sorry," the driver mumbled.

"I got an idea. Why don't you hang up the phone and focus on the driving," I said.

"Shhh," Audrey said punching me.

"Sorry, sorry," he said again.

"Are you even talking to me?," I asked.

No response and soon we were heading down 96th Street towards First Avenue. Traffic was light and it wasn't long until we were cruising up First and the neighborhood got uglier with each block. Lots of noise on the street and people hanging on stoops. This doesn't look like the Upper West Side anymore, Toto.

It's not like I'd never been here before. My past had included many visits to assorted projects and slums and in the grand scheme of things the outskirts of East Harlem wasn't the worst I'd seen.

But I knew now just how lucky I'd been. I put myself in some very stupid situations in pursuit of blow and broads. I was supposed to be smarter than that now.

I looked over at Audrey and she was putting on lipstick.

"Making yourself pretty for Tino?," I said sarcastically.

"You've worn out my lips honey, I just want to make them pretty again."

The cab pulled up at 116th and First.

"What's the address?," I asked.

"I have it in my bag," she said.

"Well, find it now. I don't want to be walking down the street looking like we don't know where we're going."

"OK, OK, jeez, you'd think this was your first time buying drugs."

"That's the whole point. I don't want us to look like it's the first time we're doing this. They smell that."

"Who is they?," she said.

"Don't go there," I said while handing the driver a twenty.

"OK, I got it. 110 116th, apartment 5R,"

I looked around and saw the even numbers were on the other side of the street. I spotted the building. The front was covered in graffiti and there was a welcome wagon hanging outside on the stoop drinking and smoking. Up and down the street were what looked like lookouts but maybe I was being paranoid. I had just watched Serpico the other night and this building could've passed for the one he got shot in.

We got out of the cab and started to cross the street. Audrey reached for my hand and I pushed it away.

"Nice. You'll make a great boyfriend," she said.

"Holding hands in strange terrain makes you look vulnerable," I said.

"No, it makes you look like a jerk."

"Fine," I said, grabbing her hand.

"Much better, hope for you yet."

I had a feeling at this point there wasn't much hope for us at all.

She's Nothing But Trouble VII

2009-08-30T00:01:00.005-04:00

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.

No Dog Did That

2009-08-29T23:34:00.005-04:00

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.

Long Time To Burn

2009-08-27T19:39:00.002-04:00

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

So Why Aren't I Writing More?

2009-08-21T01:36:00.002-04:00

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'm Still Here

2009-08-21T01:29:00.001-04:00

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

She's Nothing But Trouble VI

2009-08-02T21:31:00.012-04:00

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.

She's Nothing But Trouble V

2009-08-02T19:45:00.004-04:00

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.

Wish I Could Bleed

2009-07-31T01:57:00.004-04:00

Feel like I'm supposed to bleed here
But I cut and cut and it just won't come

Wish I could feel that rage or sadness
Just for a few more seconds
Wish I could feel that hurt and pain
And wonder what wrecked us

Now though I see you and see through it
Keep looking for a clue that will remind me
That I was once inside you
But it's like it never happened just a phantom pain

So now I'll have to find something else to be in anguish about
Find some new heartbreaker to torment me
Somehow moved past this or so it seems
And as crazy as it sounds, I wish I could bleed

She's Nothing But Trouble IV

2009-07-20T00:59:00.005-04:00

"Where are you taking me?" Audrey said as I led her out of the hotel and onto 55th Street.

I hadn't thought that far ahead. Where do you go when your about to blow up everything you've been trying to hold onto for three years? Then it hit me.

"My place," I said, squeezing her hand and flagging a cab before she had time to pull away.

I opened the cab door and shoved her inside and quickly jumped into next to her.

"Slow down cowboy, you're going to get it."

"I'm not taking any chances," I said before turning to the driver and telling him to take us to 100th and West End.

He swung up 55th and started to turn on Sixth.

"No, take this to 10th and take that all the way," I barked.

If he took Sixth it would take us ten minutes just to get to Central Park West at this time of day and another seven or so to get up to Broadway. All the lights were in sync on 10th Avenue and we'd be at 99th Street in no time.

As he kept going up 55th I turned towards Audrey.

"Why would you do that in the hotel?," I asked. "Don't you know how easy it would be to get busted there?"

"I've done it there before. I'm careful."

"Next time just have the guy come to work, no one would even notice."

"Yeah, well I'm not looking to make a habit of it."

"Looks like you already have."

We turned right on tenth and she reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of ginger ale.

"Here, you'll all sweaty, take a sip and relax," she said handing me the bottle.

I took a big swig, which was a big mistake. It was ginger ale and whisky. I hadn't had a real drink in a long time. It burned going down and my head started to spin.

"What's wrong, it's not that strong," she said.

"No, just caught me off guard," I lied. There was a lot more to Audrey then I realized. She was one hot mess.

They say that every day you don't drink, your disease is doing push-ups and that when you pick up again it's like you never stopped in the first place. The progression continues even if the abuse doesn't.

They weren't kidding.

I took another big swig and then reached into her purse.

"What are you doing, just wait?" she said trying to grab my hand while motioning towards the driver.

I scanned the dashboard and looked at it his Hack license. Our driver, Esat Ajij, was on his cellphone babbling away in Arabic and could not give a shit about what was happening in the back of his cab.

"Hey driver," I said, "mind if I do a bump?"

Esat kept right on talking without missing a beat.

Audrey grabbed my ear and twisted hard. I turned my head towards hers and she pulled my mouth into hers.

It wasn't exactly how I'd practiced our first kiss in my head but it would have to do.

Smoke

2009-07-17T01:39:00.002-04:00

Caught a scent of you in the evening air
Breathed you in and got my taste
But if I let you back for good again
You'll lay me to waste.

So close you were burning inside me
Wanted to take you home and make you mine
Fill my place with all those dreams
That it'll all work the way it should this time

Fill my lungs with your soul
Feel you beating in my chest
Let me use you to fill that hole
And maybe my head will finally rest

You leave me with nothing but smoke
As the rest burns slowly away
And in the end I'll be the one to choke
If I l let myself get caught in your sway.

Scab

2009-07-16T02:06:00.003-04:00

Pulled off a scab just to see if it still bleeds
Is the pain still real or something I need
Clinging to a place that I shouldn't be
Something in you torments me

Gonna let that blood drip down my arm
Hope the sight of me doesn't cause alarm
Want to take that blade and slice myself open
Make believe that I can still feel

Can't keep walking down that road
Sitting here in the dark alone
Picking at that old scab
Waiting for the pain to take me back

It's A Wonderful Lie

2009-07-14T01:32:00.000-04:00

Thanks for finding this, Will.

Want To

2009-07-14T01:20:00.002-04:00

Do
Live
Create
Feel
Expose
Bleed
Bite
Fuck
Breathe
Rest

She's Nothing But Trouble III

2009-07-12T19:06:00.008-04:00

I didn't even bother making up a reason for my early exit. Just grabbed my jacket and told Martha, our assistant, that I'd see her tomorrow. She barely looked up. I wasn't the only one who who hated this place.

Once I was on the street I pulled a smoke out of my jacket and fired one up. I should quit. It's been three years since my last drink so it's not like I still need the cigs as a crutch. I guess they were my last act of rebellion. I know. Some rebel. A guy with a cushy high paying job doesn't exactly conjure up images of Marlon Brando in "The Wild One."

But I still hung onto some fantasy that I was this tough-guy dark writer. That's what I've pretended to be my whole life. I've just taken the act out of the bar and into the rooms. I used to spend my nights drinking at the Dublin House until four in the morning while jotting down poems and stories thinking it would lure girls. Hardly ever worked. I gave off a vibe that said "stay away."

I looked at my watch. It was 4:15. I could head down to the village and catch the second half of the 4 p.m. meeting at Perry and race back up here to meet Audrey when she left and then go back downtown again. That seemed kind of dumb. I could grab a bite and walk over to Ninth Avenue for awhile. My head was spinning with choices. We aren't used to choices. We're used to doing the same thing over and over again, expecting the results to be different. This is what's been beaten into my head and yet I was having a hard time with it today.

I walked up the street and sat down in front of Black Rock, home of CBS. The building was standing up to the test of time even if the network wasn't. Or at least it was on the outside. Last time I was inside it looked like it could've used some new carpets. Of course, it didn't help that I'd thrown up on them once when I had a few dozen too many at their holiday party. I was smart enough to hide behind a curtain when it happened and the next day offered my list of suspects to Dan McClinton, their public relations guy. Maybe one day I'd confess.

"No smoking here."

I looked up into the face of a security guard who seemed thrilled to finally have something to do.

"Sorry," I said. Then I took a long last drag and flicked the butt into the street and turned to walk off.

Just then I saw Audrey coming out of the building. She didn't have a jacket on so maybe she was just getting another coffee or something. For some reason I decided to follow her. This clearly wasn't sober behavior but I didn't care. If my femme fatale was cheating on my imaginary relationship with her I needed to know.

Audrey walked briskly down the street, her four-inch heels not slowing her down at all. She was headed towards Fifth Avenue. I kept a good distance back. She turned the corner and walked up to 55th and then ducked into the Peninsula. This was getting interesting.

I waited a few minutes and then walked into the lobby. I tried to think of what lie I would use if she saw me. She was probably just meeting someone about a job. Audrey was only consulting at the Institute of Media after getting bounced out of a high-profile PR gig for sleeping with a reporter. It happens all the time, but not usually at an industry party in the bathroom. Like I said, she likes her drink. That happened awhile ago, but that's a hard one to overcome especially since the reporter was married with kids. His marriage survived and he became a folk hero. She was the one who took the hit. Not fair, but that's life sometimes.

She sat down at the bar and ordered what looked like scotch. Of course she'd drink scotch. I found a spot out of her sight and pulled out a newspaper. A few minutes later a guy in jeans and leather jacket came in and sat down next to her. As they made small talk she took her purse off the back of her chair and started to go through it, or at least pretended to anyway. Once it was open the guy dropped a small envelope into it and took a big one out. You have to be kidding me. Only Audrey would do a drug deal at the Peninsula bar. Everyone always made things so complicated. The guy could've come up to the office and no one would have said a thing or she could've met him on the street. Instead she meets him at a posh bar where who knows how many undercover cops there are not to mention the occasional observant doorman or waitress to conduct her business. Whatever. It seemed to work. A few minutes later he leaned in and kissed her cheek and headed out the door. She sat back, looked around and took a big swig from her scotch and didn't notice me come up from behind her.

"You gonna share some of that with me?'

She turned quickly and spit out what scotch was left in her mouth onto my shirt.

"Gee, thanks. I'm more of a whisky guy but I appreciate your sharing."

"You fucking followed me?," she asked.

"Actually yeah, but just because I was bored."

"Oh god. What do you want from me."

"Relax, I don't want anything. Or at least anything that I haven't already made abundantly clear to you."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind. How much did you get?"

She looked down and then smiled.

"Eight ball."

"All for you?"

"Maybe," she said in that little girly voice.

I knew this was a bad scene. Audrey didn't know I was straight. I looked down at her crossed legs and the heel dangling off her foot and then into her eyes. She winked at me. She was willing to sleep with me to keep her secrets. That's all this was. I begin to wonder if it would be worth it. I already knew the answer and I tried to play the tape out as to how this would end. It wasn't going to be pretty.

I picked up her drink, chugged it down, took her hand and led her out of the bar.

Cool Chick

2009-07-11T21:13:00.002-04:00

Chan Marshall (Cat Power). Check her out.

What It Was Like

2009-07-11T20:53:00.004-04:00

I am something of a journal keeper, or was until the blog and then Twitter entered the picture. At this rate, my journal entries will be three sentences.

But I have the hard copies from the past to remind me where I once was.

I thought I'd share a few. I'm guessing this is 2001 or 2002. I reprint this not to glorify the past. There is nothing here worth glorifying. It's just a reminder of how pathetic it had become.

It's 11:15 and the last of my songs are playing. What to do? I can stay here and drink and do more coke hoping to numb myself or I can leave. Go some where else. Do more coke and drink and numb myself? Go somewhere else? Decisions! Decisions!

For now I've opted more more coke and a beer here. I'm not ready for the trip downtown though I know it's coming. The coke is just sitting here. It's like it's stuck between my nostrils and my central nervous system. I want it to kick in, but it won't. Might be time to go downtown.

Finally at Christopher's (downtown). Coke dealer offering Ecstasy for $20. I sit at the bar and throw down my beer staring at the beautiful fag-hag knowing nothing will happen.

Here's another one:

Damn I look good. It's amazing how your outside can cover for your inside. I'm bleeding internally but no one knows. My hair is perfect. My body tone. I look into the mirror and it tells me these things.

But the mirror can't see everything and for that I'm grateful. As the hours pass and the beers do their job that mirror will turn from my best friend to my worst enemy. The blood that I fight so hard to keep inside will start pouring out of my eyes, my nose and my mouth.

It will flow over my face and show me for what I am -- a battered and bloodied carcass -- just a soul exposed in all its blackness and hatred of itself and everyone around it.

Oh yeah, those days were fun. More to come. It feels good to type this shit up and remind myself of what I did to myself for so many years. Somewhere in all this is a piece of fiction. I have no intention of doing a "Night of the Gun" or "Million Tiny Pieces" but I do want to do some dark noir.

Left This Ghost

2009-07-03T00:40:00.003-04:00

Quiet here
Except for you
Still lingering in the background
Dancing through my mind
Loitering around my head
Squatting in my yard
Like to get you out once and for all
But it takes time
Who knew that someone who stayed so short
Could cut so deep

Know it's all about my ego
Been so long since someone got the drop on me
I'm usually the one to cut and run
Let me tell you the other way isn't much fun

Thought I'd finally get what I wanted
And maybe instead I got what I deserved
Just know that with each passing hour
Is one more than you ever served

Just want to be free
Yet I'm the one still clinging
To a false memory and a fake dream
That drained my soul and left this ghost

South Of 8 Mile

2009-06-28T19:11:00.001-04:00

You were dying when I first started living
The heart's still beating today, but so faint no one can hear it
We crack jokes about faded beauty through burnt out shells
Can try to look away, but south of 8 mile is all of our man-made hell.

Late Afternoon Lust

2009-06-27T21:44:00.001-04:00

Those days of wanderlust so alluring
Those times that are lies now
Taking the last ride out of there
Leaving the blood and dirt behind.

Just A Random Update

2009-06-27T21:21:00.002-04:00

I feel I've let this slip. Like so many other things I've let slip in my life. So here's an update. My two-and-a-half weeks of cat sitting just ended. While it was relatively painless, it did not make me long for my two cats. For the uninformed, Skinny and Fluff are still in New York and living with my brother. They may join me at the end of the summer or they may stay there. It's up to him. If he wants them, they are his. And if he doesn't, I will go gather them up and bring them out here.

Some are wondering how I left them in New York. I know it doesn't make me look too good. Whether this career switch and move across the country is moving towards something or away from something, I don't know yet. I do know that I wanted to do it alone. Somehow I let my life get shattered six months ago and I felt a need to just start everything over and clean. Maybe it's a geographic, I don't know. Whatever it is, it has worked so far. I have no regrets about moving. I think about a lot everyday, but one thing I don't think about is whether I made a mistake.

If I do end up with the cats back, I will be OK with it. They are good cats and I think they are being better cared for by my brother than they would have been if they came with me. That said, if they end up here I will try to do better. I'm not going to get into all the reasons that I have for doing what I did. They are in good hands and happy. There last few months with me were anything but that.

I have spent a nice afternoon reading a book. Been so long since I got sucked into a book. Pretty sure I'll finish it tonight, which is good since I don't have any other plans. That's OK. I was out Wednesday night at a big industry event. Yesterday, I met friends after work and then went to a meeting and came home. Today I worked out, meeting, did a little cleaning and soon will make some dinner and read some more. Tomorrow I have a full day planned. I am not struggling for things to do. I have reconnected with some old friends here. I am trying to get into the meetings here while at the same time trying not to make that my life.

I am hoping to start writing again soon. I mean book writing. I really do want to finish something, even if I never try to get it published. I just want to have something I completed to look back on.

When I do get around to pursuing this, I will probably have to find a place to write. When I was writing in New York and making headway, it was at the library or the coffee shop. At home it is too easy for me to turn on the TV or surf the Internet. And we know what that means.

It was really warm today, first time in awhile. Maybe the June gloom is finally starting to lift. Anyway, that's my update for now. Hopefully later I'll throw up some morose poetry for you.

Running To Stand Still

2009-06-21T01:21:00.002-04:00

This morning I actually finally stopped myself from having to be in perpetual motion all the time. I woke up and was out of bed by 6:30. That's normal for me these days. I didn't have to leave the apartment until 9 but I immediately started thinking that I could go for a run or hit the gym or do all these things before I had to be somewhere at 9:30.

What this is really about is me not being in the one place I should be -- my head. I am always moving so I don't have to listen to the thoughts that pour through my brain. Most of these thoughts are not good. I'm either obsessing about the past or some girl (one girl really, yeah she's still lingering there) or beating myself up. If I'm always on the go, that doesn't happen so much.

Except nothing else does either. I have books I could be reading or poems I might be writing. But if I'm always running somewhere, I'm not using my brain, I'm dodging it. I need to embrace this endless stream of thoughts -- good and bad -- that pour through me and use them to my advantage.

This morning I finally said no. I was out the door to run when I realized that I didn't need to and didn't want and was going to the gym later anyway so why am I killing myself? I went in and read a book and made breakfast and had a very relaxed morning.

The porn is the same thing. I don't look at porn because I'm some non-stop horn dog. I look at it because for a few minutes it takes me away from me. Just the like the drink and the drug did.

This all needs to stop because otherwise I won't ever be able to really do the things I want to do, even if it is just reading a newspaper. This desire to always be moving has plagued me since I was a kid. And I don't mean moving like the move I just made to L.A. I mean everyday running around all the time and feeling like a failure if I don't have some place to go or somewhere to be. It's bullshit. Most people like to lounge around and read or write or do things that take them away from the daily obsessions of life. Somewhere I picked up the idea that doing things just for yourself is bad. Even the exercise regime I do is often more out of fear of getting out of shape then because it is something I really want to do.

I have veered off course here but I think you get my main point. I need to learn to chill and stand still. This morning I took a small step towards that.

Another Wednesday

2009-06-16T01:48:00.003-04:00

"Did you like it," she asked taking a drag off my smoke.

I nodded as I looked at the melted wax on my arm and chest and reached out for the key which was clipped to her stiletto.

She lifted her leg up towards my mouth and I grabbed the safety pin and tried to undo it with my teeth and tongue. I got it eventually, but not until I'd put a few small holes in my lips. The key fell between my legs and she reached down between the cushion to get it. Then she dragged the key slowly up my thigh and stomach to my wrist and opened the cuffs.

I started to rub my wrists together to try to jump start the circulation while she got off the couch, went over to the table and grabbed the envelope and said she'd see me next Wednesday. As she walked to the door she opened the fridge, pulled a can of Bud out and tossed it to me. I opened it, took a big swig and then poured the rest on my chest. She laughed and walked out the door.

Another Wednesday in the books.

Moments

2009-06-16T01:32:00.001-04:00

Caught on the line between right and wrong.
Running from the past.
Afraid of the future.
Avoiding the present.
Take time for the moment before its gone.

Why It Works

2009-06-16T01:06:00.004-04:00

I'm rapidly approaching four years without a drink or a drug. Tonight I remembered how it works. I was at a meeting and a guy with thirty days shared about the problems he was having with the "God" thing. He wasn't sure whether he could stick or adjust or pray or anything. (On a side note, the AA out here is very fundamentalist compared to New York. I don't have a God problem, but I don't like it hammered into me either and they do that a little out here)

Afterwards I reached out to the guy and we talked for about twenty minutes. I told him that for now all he had to worry about was not drinking or drugging. The rest will happen when it happens. I've seen too many people get caught up in a lot of semantics when all they should really be focusing on is staying clean. There's a sign on the wall of Perry Street that says, "There's no wrong way to get sober." That's the most important thing you need to know.

I have no idea if this kid will stick or not. I was told long ago that when you reach out to someone you are doing it for yourself just as much as you are for them. I get that now.

I don't always talk this frankly about my recovery here. Yes, I write some dark poems and sometimes I relive the bad old days in my head and sometimes I miss it. But I also know that there is a good chance I wouldn't be here if I hadn't gotten straight. I don't mean to me melodramatic and I'm not saying I'd have died in action. What I mean is I was already dead spiritually and headed that way physically. I couldn't look in the mirror. I hated everything.

I am aware now. I am there for other people as much as I can be. I show up for stuff. I buy my niece a birthday gift rather than say I will and then forget. I call my mother. I send my Dad's wife a card thanking her for letting me stay at their place for a week. These are all things many people do without thinking about it, but for me it had to be learned. Everything had to be learned and I'm learning it now.

My self-loathing kept me from so much in this world. I am still full of self-loathing but it is not nearly as bad as it was before September of 2005. I own my life now. I don't drink and drug at people. I don't need to drink to feel or to not feel. I can do it all on my own. It's not always fun. The first three months of this year was brutal. The pain I felt took me to a place that I never would've let myself get to if I was still drinking. And I wouldn't have taken the chances I did if I was drinking either. I'm better for all of it.

I still find it hard to believe I blew up my life and moved back to Los Angeles. So far, I have no regrets. It's tougher work and I'm earning a lot less, but I feel more alive than in a long time. I'm still adjusting to the program here and all this other shit, but tonight I was reminded what it was all about and why it works.

And for that I'm grateful.