Expiramental - CA_WINTER
I got a phone call from my landlord while I was at the bar. I hung up once but he was persistent. Flooded again, probably. Surely paid the rent yesterday. Budget called for a night out. So did my dry spell. I picked up but kept it running in my pocket until I got to the bathroom.
Hello, I whispered into the phone in the stall. There was a man next to me and I didn’t want to come off as some weirdo on the phone in the bathroom at the bar.
Blake? Harry asked, are you there?
Yeah, what’s up?
Are you good to talk right now? He sounded panicky, like he was in trouble. We hung out a couple times so maybe he needed a taxi.
Yeah, yeah, what’s up man, you okay?
Anyone else call you?
No, why?
Oh, man, I don’t know how to tell you this, but the building burned down.
Which building? My stomach twisted. Might as well use the toilet while I’m in here. The guy next to me flushed.
Our building- your apartment. Police and firemen are here putting it out.
Are you serious? I undid my fly. Small. When?
About an hour ago it started. Not sure who yet, but it started on the second floor.
Holy shit, is my- I guess you’re calling because I need a place to stay tonight, right?
I’m sorry to have to tell you- did you have insurance?
Yeah, yeah I do.
Call them, tell them your apartment burned down this evening. Get the ball rolling on this; the whole thing is coming down.
The whole thing? Are you serious? How’s that even possible?
I don’t know, man. I gotta go. I’ve got pictures, sending them now. I’m sorry, Blake.
I stood over the toilet with my shriveled dick in my hand, unable to pee, unable to think. Harry sent three blurry pictures of the apartment, each at different stages of burnt. My date probably thinks I’m doing blow in here. Skip might help me, forwarded him the pics and said SOS. Then I zipped up and pushed out into the bar again without washing my hands. The music beat some of my feelings away. Just don’t think about it. You can stay at hers.
My date was twirling her drink with her straw and had her head turned at some guy with a leather jacket. He was leaned in close and his hand was on her leg.
Who’s this? I nudged his chair- my chair.
Sup? He leans back. His knuckles around his beer glow under the blacklight.
I don’t know, she looks at him, we just met.
Well, move. I nudge again. I know what I’m doing. It feels good.
Hey man, fuck off.
I mock. Fuck off. Now he’s standing, and he’s shorter than me by just enough to make it feel good. She says something but I didn’t hear.
Back up, man, before I knock you the fuck out. Mr. Toughguy, says.
That’s my seat, I say. My hands are bouncing on my leg and my phone is vibrating again in my pocket. Skip, inevitably. I check with a glance and the guy swings at me but doesn’t commit to it. My date shrieks, I stumble to the left, brace on some wide man’s back. He jumps out of the way and shrieks like my date. I don’t remember her name. The guy who punched me is looking at me behind a table. I he going to jump? Swing back? He looks like a rocker boy deer in headlights. The wide man asks me what I’m gonna do about it. Chairs fall over, a lady spills her drink on a different girl. The guy makes it to the exit before I do and security tries to stop him. They'd stop me for sure. I order another drink, then another drink, then call Skip and make it to his place in a taxi.
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