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The Girl Chasing the Dragon
Incarcerated by circumstance and deflated by the daggers of lung puncturing realizations I sat at the desk in my hotel room. I scribbled on a piece of hotel stationary; I then stared at the TV completely bereft of even the slightest modicum of interest.
I looked down at what I’d written;
When I hear the waves break, I can’t help but remember
about the way your eyes used to make me wonder.
If the hands of god would show themselves to me one day,
I was never prepared for the realization that I wouldn’t care.
I crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it in the trash. I thought about how much I hated poetry for a second and then set my scope of hatred on my writing abilities. “What a fuck…” I whispered listlessly.
As that sentiment floated around my skull someone knocked at my door. I got up and opened it, Grape and Arnie were standing in the hallway. Grape was wearing a yellow t-shirt and standing in front of Arnie. Arnie was wearing a robe over his jeans and t-shirt and twirling the edge of his rapidly growing moustache. I flipped open the deadbolt so the door would prop up and walked back toward the desk, Sitting down I could see that Grape had propped the door with his foot.
“So what are you guys up for tonight? We gonna do something” Grape was smiling, you couldn’t beat the good nature out of that kid with a tire iron.
I wanted to be in a bad mood but I couldn’t, I wanted to say something mean so that they’d both go away and leave me alone but I looked at Grape and his blind optimism and Arnie with his bathrobe on, fulfilling his quest to do something weird at least once a day and I knew that I would be better off hanging out with them then I would be by myself.
I said the only thing that came to mind, “All I know is that I’d better start drinking or things are going to get real depressing in here.” Arnie and Grape busted out laughing and came in the room. They sat on my bed and we fucked around and made fun of each other for a while before deciding on going to the Mexican restaurant across the street from the hotel.
When we got there we were the only people in the joint and we sat our asses on the stools in the middle of the bar. Grape ordered us some Mexican bulldogs and explained to the bartender how to make them. Within a few minutes we were guzzling booze and texting our bets for the Thursday night NFL game to our bookie. I haggled with the Mexican bartender and got him to change the tv from soccer to the NFL game. Things were about as good as they could be for a night on the road in southern Indiana.
For a while we sat there in peace, the only patrons of the establishment. I read about the rebel Libyans capturing and killing Khadafi on my phone while sipping from my bulldog and wondered if it were better to be a dictator for 40 years having everything you want only to eventually be brutally killed or to just be a shlub in the free world and die peacefully in a nursing home, delusional with pants full of poop.
My pondering was interrupted by a new patron who sat down two stools to my left. He nodded at me and ordered a bud light. I looked over at Grape and Arnie who were in deep debate about which entrée was better, the gigante burrito or the two chimichanga platter. I stared down at my phone and looked at the lines for the NHL games tomorrow and eaves dropped on the weird guy sitting to the left of me, he was giving someone directions to the restaurant, when he was finished he made a kissy noise and I rolled my eyes.
In a few minutes the mystery woman showed up at the restaurant and sat down in between me and the weird guy. They kissed in an overt and somewhat gross fashion for a few minutes while I looked over at Grape and Arnie. I tried to make Grape switch seats with me but he refused. Their love affair went on for a few minutes, the woman looked as though she had been very attractive once. She was still pretty but she looked like a banana that was turning brown, she might still be edible but you’d have to cut off a few of the brown spots to get her down. She kept turning and looking at us and then back to her guy.
Eventually I saw the guy pass her something and she went off to the bathroom. The guy tried to make conversation with me about the game and I obliged offering cliché responses that would hopefully end the conversation quickly but without any hurt feelings. Soon enough the girl came back and sat between us. I looked over at Grape and Arnie and made a funny face and motioned back to the couple sitting next to me. They laughed and we talked about how shitty it was the Hartford Whalers weren’t an NHL team anymore.
After a moment, I looked back at the couple and noticed that captain weirdo was standing up holding the bruised banana girl up. She was completely passed out. I nudged grape and motioned towards them and again made a weird face. Arnie and Grape both looked at them in awe and quickly turned away. I couldn’t help but look again, hoping she had come to.
The guy caught me looking and offered up, “It’s her medication, she must have had a reaction to the beer.” I looked at her glass that had barely been touched.
“Should we call a doctor or something?” I tried to sound calm but having been an avid fan of the movie Trainspotting I was pretty sure this chick had just shot up in the bathroom and was totally fucked off her brain due to the injection of an unhealthy dose of heroin.
“No, No, It’s just a reaction she’ll be fine.” With that he started talking to her and tapping her chin with an open slap. Occasionally she would groan and let out a garbled word.
This went on for a few minutes that felt like fucking hours. I was in anxiety crisis mode with nary a clue as what to do. I looked at Grape and Arnie but they just kept their eyes trained on the TV knowing that they didn't want to get involved. While all of this was going on, the citizens of this shithole town had decided that El Chihuahua was the fucking place to eat. The god-damned place was full.
I felt the need to help these two idiots, “Do you need to get her somewhere?”
The man answered quickly, “Yeah if you could help me get her to her car…”
I stood up without words and we began to make preparations to walk her to the car. She was still completely incoherent. He threw money at the bar and explained to the Mexican bartender that she had had a reaction to the medicine. The bartender looked at him dumbfounded and nodded. I elbowed Grape and gave him a look that said, “You’re going to fucking help me here, dear god I need your help.” He obliged and the three of us held her by the arms and walked her through the now full restaurant as people stared at us, I can only imagine what thoughts were running through their heads.
We got to the front door, Grape let go of her and held the door as me and her boyfriend helped her outside. Grape started back inside and I motioned to him like a crazy man to continue on with me, I wanted no part of doing this alone. He put his head down and obliged. We got her to her late model SUV and Grape and I held her as he clumsily opened the door. He muttered something again about her medication and we completely ignored him, simply ready to be rid of this strange situation. We put her into the front seat like a bag of groceries and she began to come to.
She looked at us with the strangest eyes I’ve ever seen and muttered, Thank you, Thank you.” A milky combination of pukey water poured out of her mouth as she uttered the words. Grape and I tried to be polite but quickly walked away from the madness and back inside. We shielded ourselves from the glares of the patrons in the restaurant and found our seats at the bar.
I sat and stared at the TV and felt a complete numbness that was foreign to even me. Feelings of confliction came over me, had I helped them or hurt them? Would it have been better to call an ambulance? I couldn’t help but wonder if I had saved them from jail or sentenced her to death. It was a quick judgement, I didn’t know what else to do. Grape and I looked at each other and started laughing, there was nothing else to do or say.
The guy came back and thanked us, he then threw some more money at the Mexican bar tender and ordered us a round of beers before he drove her off. When the bartender sat them down I stared at mine. Was he buying me off? This beer was tainted by that strange guy and the overdosed woman. Could I even drink it? I finally took a sip and looked at Grape, “That’s good blood beer.”
He laughed and took a sip of his, he let it spill down his mouth and said, “Thank you, thank you.” We all laughed and watched the rest of the game.
We all lost our bets but the gigante burritos were delicious.
