Half-Assed Holiday

Remember what happened last night? Good. Now tell the world.

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hellhound
Lord of Benders
Lord of Benders
Posts: 291
Joined: Fri Jul 15, 2005 12:10 am
Location: LA, CA
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Half-Assed Holiday

Post by hellhound »

The phone rang. I waited impatiently.
“yeap?”
“Boss? It’s me.”
“yeap?”
“I can’t make it in today. Gotta take a day off.”
“yeap…be here tomorrow.”
“Come hell or high water.”
“yeap.”

I hung up the phone and smiled. Today was going to be a good day.

I unplugged the radio and took it into the bathroom. After fiddling with the plug for a moment, I got it to running and tuned it to a classical station. Brahms emitted from the speakers, and I smiled again. I set the two beers down on the counter and popped one. The girlfriend had left her clothes hanging to dry in the shower, so I moved those sonsabitches out onto the nearest towel rack, where they hung dripping onto the ceramic. Fuck ‘em. Slipping out of my robe, I plopped down on the crapper and drained the first can. A good shit is the key to starting the best morning. While pinching off another one, I reached over and turned on the shower. The steaming water began pouring out, and I thanked the gods that the hot water heater wanted to earn its pay.

After setting the other can on the window ledge in the shower, I headed back to the kitchen and cracked open the fridge. I made a mental lunch date with the two day old pizza lurking on the bottom shelf, pulled out a couple more beers, and set those on the counter. Then I cracked open the freezer, where a chilled shot of Stoli sat waiting along with a fresh bottle, frigid to the touch. I downed the shot of vodka, cracked open a beer, and chugged half of it.

Today was going to be a good day. I could feel it in my bones.

The shower had flooded the bathroom with a cloud of steam, in spite of the open window that peered out onto the streets. Brahms still streamed from the radio, and I drained my beer and stepped into the shower. After a few cursory scrubs, I looked over to see the cute Asian neighbor across the street, washing her car in nothing but short shorts, a t-shirt, and her hair up in pins. I watched her for about ten minutes and tugged one out in the meantime, enjoying her curves, her almond-shaped eyes, her jet-black hair, the smooth, swift movements of her body as she soaped down her black Audi. A pompous-sounding woman on the radio harped on and on about the backed-up traffic on the 10 and I-5, the I-5 and the 101, the 101 and the Hollywood Freeway, and I just thanked the gods that I wasn’t stuck out there among all that bullshit. I finished up with my shower, stepped out, dried off, drained my beer, and put my ratty bathrobe back on.

Heading back to the kitchen, I made myself a screwdriver and sat there, listening to the faint sounds of Mahler streaming about the apartment. Down below, I heard the clanking of bottles as the elderly Mexican lady, Juanita, rummaged through the dumpster to collect empty cans and bottles.

There was plenty strewn around to donate to her cause. I dashed back to the bedroom and flung open the closet. I tugged on a pair of running pants, a bedraggled trenchcoat, and a wrinkled white t-shirt, hopping into my sandals on the way out the bedroom. The cats lazily regarded my presence, switching their tails and yawning. Lazy fuckers. I dashed back to the kitchen, snatched up a trash bag, threw my recent empties into it, and headed out the door and downstairs. My sandals slapped the sidewalk as I ambled hurriedly out to where Juanita stood, collecting cans and bottles and tossing them into an old shopping cart.

“Juanita, tengo algunas botellas para ti!”
“Ay, joven, muchas gracias!”
“Si, no es una problema. Si no estaba usted, debo que tirarlos en la basura y sean bien gastados.”
She laughed a hearty laugh and thanked me again. I smiled back, wished her a good day, and headed back upstairs.

Time to finish it up.
"I am stupid. I am the foolishness of flesh. Drinking gives me charm and texture."

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