Archive for December, 2008

The Best Part of Believe is the Lie

It’s eight o’ clock and he should have called by now.  I call him back and before he even says “Ms. Fields” I grunt, “What the fuck?”  He shrugs off my hostility and tells me he’ll be home in ten minutes and I should come over then.  When I arrive he’s just pulled into the driveway and exits his car.  It’s dark and all I really see is the orange torch capping the end of his cigarette.  We go inside.  He goes down to the basement to free his roomate’s dog from the captivity of a small metal mesh cage where he’s confined to when no one’s home.  There’s some small talk as he points out the thirty dollar North Face gloves he’s just purchased with a gift certificate from Urban Outfitters…A place he’d never shop in if it wasn’t for a gift certificate – overpriced T-shirts he says.  We then, all three of us head up to his room.  It all seems fairly routine at this point.  He frees himself of his corduroy pants, yet he still remains clad in black boxers and an awful 80’s inspired Eddie Bauer flannel.  He jumps on his bed.  The dog follows and I have a seat there too.  He then gets up and starts pacing a bit.  Starts folding his cords all “nice nice” on a hangar and hangs them in a closet while I scratch the back of the dog’s ears as he starts making a cat like purr.  He then jumps right back on and in an effort to steel away the attention of the dog starts riling him up.  Usually the dog’s all for it.  But tonight he’d rather not be bothered.  We’re supposed to be watching a movie.  Usually the new fancy blu-ray player would already be on and ready…but he hasn’t yet gotten around to turning it on yet…He’s still messing around with the dog, who’s having none of what he’s offering.  I say “here Boy”  and the dog obediently sits on my lap and begins his satisfactory pants.  In somewhat of a jealous tone he says “She gives a mean blow job too.”  I roll my eyes and continue scratching the dog.  He makes a second flamboyant attempt to steel the dog’s attention, tryiing to roll him over onto his back to scratch his stomach, but this time he’s had enough and leaves the room.  For awhile, what seems like an eternity, we just stare at each other.  It’s now that I know something’s wrong.  He’s just looking square in the eyes…Still a smirk lingers on his face and I can’t tell if it’s in jest or if it’s something more.  Both of us just sit and stare…no words.  He then gets under the covers lights still on, TV still off.  Something’s very wrong.  I go ahead and get under them too.  But he stops me. continue