16 September 2011

Lighting Fires and Running Amok

 My friends came to see me at the bar the other night. They were probably already a bit intoxicated. Okay, two of them were hammered. One of them was semi-sober.

"Hey, Man." Said a random stranger, "Is that hotel across the street as nasty as I think it is?"

D considered for a moment, then worked up an astonished expression. "Holy shit Man! Did you just proposition me?"

Random Stranger stammers and slurs a little. He has quite obviously been to another bar as well. 

"Uh. No. I. Just. I was wondering if it is nasty."

And D is off and running.

He bats his eyes a tiny bit, not overtly, but I notice so I am guessing RS notices as well.

"Well. How nasty do you want it to be?" His voice is all husky and shit. 

Holy shit.
If I'd have been drinking I would have shot it out of my nose.

RS finishes his beer and consults his smartphone for more detailed reviews of the roach motel. I go about my work, pretending I do not know D, M or T.

T is out of it. Probably not drunk, but definitely not too sober. He has also been awake for way too long. T is a stripper. Strippers do not sleep. They practice sleep deprivation as a hobby, I think.

M is very quiet. She feels the need to behave herself in public today. I'm not sure why.
She may have even blushed when the subject of her sniffing armpits was discussed.

"Well hell, I do not just like to smell anyone's armpits. I just like the way that deodorant smells on some people."

"T. What ever you do, walk with your arms at your sides at all times." D tells T.

M is offended. Or pretends to be."Ahem. I would not smell T's armpits uninvited. I would smell your's though. Because you obviously have slutty armpits."

Obviously. 

The armpits were asking for it. They said no... but really they wanted to be sniffed. I wonder if M could be prosecuted for assault or something. 

At the slutty armpit remark, T speaks for the first time that evening. "Holy. Shit." It does not seem profound, but it encompassed every emotion that he has ever had. I think. It is hard to tell sometimes with that guy.

Either he said "Holy shit" with conviction, or he smelled something really bad, or his beer was warm. Something like that.

Anyhow, after a few moments of unnatural silence, D pops in with" Sooo, now what?"

"Now? Now we are going to light shit on fire D." I tell him. When I say this to people, most of them understand right away that I am not talking about real fires. I am mostly talking about metaphorical fires.

"K. Where are the fire extinguishers then?" D asks while M tries to nonchalantly sniff T's deodorant. She waves her hand, attempting to waft in the smell of T's armpits.

"D. I though you understood that to mean metaphorical fires."

D sighs. I think he is maybe having a bad day. " Normally, yes. Today, I am thinking real fires. So, lets collect the fire extinguishers."

I say nothing, because sometimes I am not sure whether D is joking or not, and I don't really want to be an accessory to arson.

 Finally, M asks why the fire extinguishers need to be collected. She has probably missed part of the conversation while enraptured with the scent of Gillette solid. 

"Because, duh. If we are going to light some fires in here, I'll be damned if anyone is going to come along and just put them out and ruin all of our hard work."

T sort of laughs. Again, it's hard to tell; he could have been growling. M could have been tickling his armpits with her nose. 

"We are running... Amok. Amok. Amok. Amok." T says, grinning. 

I love these guys.

They make me feel so normal.


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