Four Years

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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!