Drug Store Makeup Junkie

New Orleans

2010-08-30T21:30:00.000-07:00

I wasn't exactly off the grid, instead I was hold up in a plantation that Charlie was care taking at. I had a feeling that James had something to do with it, it was a sweet gig compared to the cemetery.

There was only one phone line in the house and I couldn't hear it in my room. Dylan was with with Don for the week. Something James seemed comfortable with. Walking and talking he was even more like his father, something that was a source of endless amusement.

Don wanted answers that I couldn't give him, he wanted to know what happened. Sure he married a drug using bum pregnant by another man but he couldn't figure out why the relationship fell apart.

Priscilla and Jane had stopped talking to me. They thought I would have returned by now but I couldn't, there was just something broken.

Fucking A

2009-08-17T23:23:00.000-07:00

I don’t even think that expression is En Vogue anymore but it still worked for me. I was an ass, a big one and instead of getting a weight off of my shoulders I had gone and made Jane cry, hell I had broken her heart. If she felt this way about the situation I don’t even want to know what would happen if I told Don. Fuck me for thinking I could have a normal life. I laid back down on the bed, while Jane sat on the edge crying silently.

I know how she felt sort of, it’s like when I found out my mothers boyfriend that I actually liked was leaving. He wasn’t my Dad and he had really only been in my life for 6 months but I thought my world was falling down around me. The ignorant hick in my also failed to remember that Jane had been friends longer with Don that he had been my boss or husband.

“Do you think you will change your mind?” Jane sobbed.

“Baby girl, I am a fuck up and nothing is going to change that but right here, right now is not where I should be—if I don’t get out soon I am going to destroy everything.”

Jane wiped her nose. “What are you going to do?”

“I think I am going to take James up on his offer to go to New Orleans but I am going to stay with Charlie. Y’all can come visit, I don’t want to make it seem like I am going to be gone forever.”

“I get the worse feeling that your never coming back, that I will never get to see Dylan again.” Jane looked at me.

“You will see Dylan again.” Jane’s face crumbled and I realized that I hadn’t included myself in that sentence.

I needed to call Don, shit maybe I should wait until I didn’t have a fever.

Cheater Cheater

2009-08-10T10:26:00.000-07:00

I couldn’t do it anymore. The fact was plain and simple—I wasn’t meant to be married let alone be a mother. It was too late to give up the kid, I was too damn attached but Don didn’t have to suffer my self imposed entrapment. Sometimes I felt like I should have been born a man, I guess that’s a bullshit excuse for less than a mensch. I had been stuck in the hospital for two days and all I could do was think about Reno and that old lady, she had changed my fate, some part of me couldn’t let her down.

It was Tuesday, and it was raining. I was tucked inside my bedroom, still too weak to really do anything. I was laying on my back playing with the overkill remote which I still hadn’t figure out how to use. Once I was able to turn on the stereo, to my further exasperation I found trying to peruse the music library on this contraption overwhelming—so I pressed Shuffle.

The Beatles poured from the Bose speakers and a deafening rate. I covered my ears looked at the remote, then gave up and got up to turn it down manually. It took three knobs, a few dozen buttons and much cursing before it was at a comfortable level. I had been seconds away from pulling out every plug I could find. Climbing back into bed, I let the world spin, perhaps bending over hadn’t been such a good idea.

My cell phone rang it was James, I picked it up irritated that it was him.

“Hello”

“Hey, how are you doing dawlin?”

“Good” his drawl made me smile a little.

“I was thinking.” Big pauses were never good.

“You were thinking?” Two heartbeats was more than enough time for me to wait.

“I want to go back to New Orleans.” Fuck, my heart flipped, sank and did all the other horrible shit they do when you hear something you don’t want to hear.

“I” I didn’t know what to say and I wasn’t ready to speak.

“Cher, I want to take Dylan with me for a couple of months.” Here they were hot fucking tears, blinding me. I had become such a damn crybaby since having the kid.

“Savannah, I want you to come with us.” He choked on us, I sobbed, hung up the phone and did the stupidest thing you could possible do.

I took a steaming hot shower, painted my face, pulled on the tightest jeans I could find and the highest heals I could tolerate and called a cab.

What the fuck was I doing, I knew exactly what I was doing. Ruining my marriage, putting my kid in jeopardy and coming up for air for the first time in months. There was an oak door between me and the crazy train. I had downed two gimlets at a no name dive before arriving where my feet were currently planted.

I knocked, Darren opened the door. He had his professor jacket off and he was wearing one of those cheesy short sleeved dress shirts and a tie. I didn’t have to say anything; it must have been the way I let my eyes crawl from his feet, over his tatted arms to his mouth that I had been dreaming about.

He yanked me in the office and had his tongue buried in my mouth before I could have a second thought. My skin tingled and the fog in my brain lifted. I kissed him back grabbing him on both sides of his waist.

He pushed me up against the door—maybe dreams do come true.

“You are so hot.” I smiled, as he kissed my neck.

When he pulled back still embracing me and frowning, I knew he wasn’t talking about my sex appeal.

Before I could protest, the back of his hand was on my forehead and was looking at me clinically.

“Don said you were just getting over something.” I let my leg around his waist slid to the floor. He said his name.

I must have looked mortified, he kissed me gently. “Why don’t we take a walk to the med center?”

He stepped away from me leaving a void and walked to his desk to grab his keys.

I may as well have been a snake and not a student. Before entering I had hastily reapplied some gloss but suddenly I felt a sick as I must have looked.

The nurse, took the thermometer out of my ear.

“100.1, you should go home. If it gets any higher go back to the hospital.”

I was right back where I started. I had convinced Darren that Don was home and I would be fine when he dropped me. I trudged back and hid all evidence of my outing. Grabbing an ice pack I climbed back into bed, halfway dreading being alone. The thought had barely finished forming in my brain when the front door opened.

“Savannah” It was Jane, the question is…to confess or not to confess. It was just a kiss, so far.

Well God Damn

2009-06-29T11:32:00.001-07:00

His smell filled my nose and worked its way into my lungs. His lips were firm, cool to the touch—his hands, icy made me shiver as they traced a path over my ribs. He took my heat, lapping it from my tongue. This was damn good. I didn’t feel the hard bricks behind my back. Only a whisper of shock escaped when he hooked his fingers into my panties.

“Mammuh” He was pulling away.

“Mammuh” A little hand patted forearm slapping it lightly.

I opened my eyes, Dylan was smiling back at me eating zwieback cookie and drooling profusely in the process. James was standing over me smiling.

“You look so innocent when you sleep.” I frowned.

Bastard, James was a part of my problem. I realized I felt a little woozy and put my head back down on the couch thinking it would pass. James face changed to concern and he picked up Dylan, and placed his hand on my forehead.

“You’re hot”

“Thank you.” I cracked a smile and realized my entire face hurt. I frowned rolling over yawning.

“I thought you had Dylan until tomorrow.” I waved at him, goofy as hell with the exact same look on his face as his Dad. I put my hand to face; the palm of my hand was shockingly cold and made me remember my dream. I smiled again.

“I think you need to go to the Hospital” James had serious look of concern on his face.

“Who needs to go the hospital?” Don walked in with a bag full of groceries from Trader Joes.

James didn’t even bother to back away from me to let Don get closer.

“I don’t need to go the hospital.” I closed my eyes and was sucked back into my dream.

I smiled in the dream as he approached me again kissing me. I moaned, and was promptly slapped on the cheek.

“What the fuck!” I sat up so fast it scared Dylan and he gave me a dirty look like he was the one who got slapped.

Don was sitting over me now. “You’re delirious.”

“Pssht” I laid back down, now where was I?

I hated being carried more than anything. I wasn’t a Goddamn baby. But here I was being cradled by husband who was I am pretty sure…shorter than me. He seat belted me into the car then put an icepack on the back of my neck.

What the fuck, I pulled it off and vaguely noticed that James was buckling Dylan into his car seat and climbing in next to him.

“If I am so sick do you really think you should have the baby around me?” Why was I so dizzy? And nauseas? Oh shit what if I was pregnant again, that would be some shit.

We pulled up to the hospital and I couldn’t be bothered to get out of the car, Don yanked the door open and tried to make get into a wheel chair.

“I’ll walk”

Stumble more like it. Why the hell was everyone staring at me?

“Maybe because you look like a damn drunk?” I opened my eyes. What the hell? I was laying in hospital bed covered in a damn freezing contraption that I suppose was supposed to bring my temperature down.

Don was sitting next to me, James and Dylan were nowhere in site.

“What happened?” I pulled an oxygen mask off.

“You took two steps out of the car and passed out, nearly hitting your head. You had 103 temperature.”

“I don’t get fevers” I shook my head

“How do you feel now?” Don was being very clinical.

“Cold, tired.” Don nodded.

“They are going to keep you for awhile, they don’t know what you have it might just be a virus, they are running some tests but they want your fever to be below 100.”

I looked at the IV in my arm.

“I slept through all of this?”

Don nodded.

He was mad; I could tell his lip was tight and slightly pushed out. He took his glasses off to rub the bridge of his nose.

I felt a pang in my chest, he was so handsome, it was like when he took his glasses of he wasn’t Clark Kent anymore. He wasn’t any taller, stronger or richer but he was mine. He was the man that only I got to see.

I reached out and took his hand, I could barely reach it. He encircled my wrist before he looked up at me. He stood up, kissed me then turned at walked out of the hospital room.

Panic shot through my body and I started sobbing. I tried to tell myself I was jumping to far ahead, but I knew something had changed within him.

Window Shopping

2009-06-01T14:38:00.000-07:00

Darren sidled in the bar that night looking much more like I was used to. He smiled at me and walked up to the bar. “What is your goal?”

I frowned at him, he was using his professor voice and I didn’t really like it. He caught on quickly and changed his tone. “What the hell are doing in college?”

I pretended the bar still needed to be wiped down—I could see his face soften. Here we go… “You are shy; I would have never guessed that about you.” Since getting married and becoming a mother I have pretty much arrived at the conclusion that I have multiple personality disorder—they are just all high functioning and aware of each other. I needed my hard face.

“You are on my turf, I don’t disrespect you in yours, don’t do it in mine—what are drinking?”

“And the wall goes up, a Newbie.” He was genuinely disappointed that I wasn’t going to let him in my head. I slammed the beer down a little too hard and, Darren grabbed my hand and kissed my palm—it completely unnerved me. So much so that when I saw Shack walking through the door I breathed a sigh of relief. I walked from behind the bar as fast as I could.

In the office I locked the door behind me; Don didn’t even look up from what he was doing. I walked over and straddled him kissing him on the mouth, he didn’t miss a beat and kissed me back gripping my ass and nibbling my lip. I hugged him hard. It wasn’t what I wanted, what I really wanted was to get high so I could cope with that shit Darren just laid on me.

I didn’t want to be a window shopper but I was, the curling of excitement in my belly told me that I was fucked. I told myself to focus on the jewel that I had in my arms, a gift that I was never going to be given again. I systematically and intellectual forced Darren out of my head, I had known him for over a year—he was a recreational drug user (like I was any better), he made out with random women in the bar, his pissed on the sides of buildings, having a Ph.D didn’t change any of that.

My palm burned. “I am going home.” I stood up.

Don knew something was wrong but to his credit he didn’t ask.

First Day

2009-03-27T14:33:00.000-07:00

What the fuck was I doing here? You have to be kidding me, I was too damn old for this shit. My first thought was that I was going to have to start stocking up on weed to keep me from flipping out of my skull.

I was in goddamn classroom with my legs shoved under a desk with a bunch 18 year olds staring at me. This wasn’t going to work. I thought I would blend, in a lightweight sweater and faded jeans I was trying not to look like a mommy or a wife for that matter—just a girl except I wasn’t a fucking girl I was a woman.

“Hi” I turned to the young man sitting next to me who spoke. Nicely dressed early twenties I bet he was a jack and coke guy.

“Hi” I bit the “I” out. If was I was behind the bar, this conversation would go whole lot smoother. I tried to smile and felt my lip stick to my upper teeth. He bought it though because he beamed back at me like he had just scaled Mount Everest.

I turned my attention back to the front of the class and tried to look comfortable. The class had become so full that they were students left standing looking perturbed. Finally a man entered wearing khakis and a long sleeve dress shirt with one of those horrible jackets with the patches on the elbow.

He looked familiar.

“I am Professor Anderson; this is English 1A if you aren’t in the right class please leave.”

He still hadn’t looked at the class I chuckled wondering who could be stupid enough to be in the wrong class. When several people filed out of the class I stopped laughing. The professor's eyes widen when I laughed and he turned to me.

Fuck—D-Boy was a damn professor? Holy shit I had it in the bag. Darren Anderson (never knew his last name) was one our bar flies. He was covering up nearly full sleeves with that shirt. A quick count in my head I had kicked him out of the bar at least nine times for popping something illegal in his mouth.

This was going to be fun. I had a shit eating grin on my face and winked at the Jack and Coke kid. Bring it on!

Just a little Bombay.

2009-02-11T11:47:00.001-08:00

Pricilla and Jane agreed to keep Dylan for an hour while I buried my misery in glass. I ordered Bombay on the rocks and after my first sip the vision of my baby smiling at me stopped me from knocking it back and ordering another.

I drank willing the tension leave my body; I counted in my head 100, sip, 200 sip. I would swear I had a demon if I believed in that kind of thing. A demon that wanted me to hit the road, the only problem was in my vision there was no Dylan. I wiped away a tear before the bartender could notice.

My misery was nothing more than boredom; this life was not what I had envisioned. I think my dreams died with my father and my only goal was to have fun. Shit, was I actually thinking about this?

Early the next morning:

“I need to go back to school”

Don stiffened in the bed next to me.

“What?” he reached over turning on the light and put his glasses on.

“I need to do something with my life, set an example for Dylan.”

“OK, what do you want to do?”

“I have no idea” I giggled, it was nerves more than anything.

I just needed a distraction.

I am whore.

2008-11-10T23:50:00.002-08:00

I couldn't put my finger on what was wrong with me, but James was like a drug. No matter how much I tried to focus on Don, who I loved, adored and cherished, my babies father was drawing me in like crack.

Two weeks after Jane and Pricilla's bundle of joy was born into Lesbian bliss I had broken down and confessed to Priscilla. I knew she would understand, she was more like me than Jane ever was.

Priscilla was from a broken home, grew up poor and preferred fighting to making love. When I started crying she had pulled me in by the back of my neck and kissed me. "Babe, those men are going to kill you." I couldn't help but laugh... she was still trying to recruit me.

I took some solace, lying next to her in bed with her baby girl. Dylan was with his James, James...I couldn't stand to call him "biological" as if what we had done was nothing more than an experiment.

I could taste him, on my lips every time I kissed Dylan, smell him. I fought it but suddenly I wasn’t sure how much longer I could resist him. He didn’t even want me, he had walked away from me after that first and only time. Shit.

I was drifting off, Pricilla was breast feeding and my phone rang. A picture of James that I had used as is ID photo made me laugh, he was picking his nose. I never meant it to warm my heart, I had been looking at that picture for months it wasn’t any funnier but I was excited that he was calling.

“Hey baby, I need to drop Dylan off early.”

“OK” My heart skipped a beat, Don was at the bar already.

“I have a date.” I could damn near hear him smiling.

“What the fuck?” Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Savannah?” James sounded completely confused.

“Oh, sorry…I was watching something on TV” God I was an idiot to think I was anything more than somewhere to bury his misery.

I told Pricilla to stay put. Put my coat on and hit the street searching for a cab.

My chest ached, I needed a drink.

Friends and Family

2008-10-21T10:47:00.000-07:00

It was no secret that I was crap at the family and friends deal. I was defensive, overly sensitive and had a way of letting insults fly out of my mouth. The older Dylan got the more I started to return to being my old self. Part of me was already afraid of the kid leaving me—then I would think of my mother and knew that letting him go would be the best thing I could do for both of us when the time came.

Winter had come to San Francisco, the miserable bone cold rain, the fog and the smell of mold in any building over fifty years old…including our little Chateau. Don had found it first, some scary Chupacabra shit that was growing behind the toilet of the guest bathroom. It was the color of human flesh and reached out like tendrils daring you to sit on the crapper.

Don had the cleaning service scrub the offending wall only to find that hours later it was back. Now he was shaking his head while environmental inspectors ticked a list off of what would need to be done to the house. Meanwhile, thanks to the location and age of the house a San Francisco Historical Preservation Society Matron, was standing buy saying what could and couldn’t be done to the molding and wainscoting.

The cleanup was going to cost him a small fortune and we were suddenly homeless. After four days in an overpriced hotel, the kid who spent a good deal of life in poverty came out in me and we moved in with Pricilla and Jane. It didn’t last long, especially since Priscilla was about to pop and kill someone.

Finally a friend of Don’s had suggested we stay in his loft while he was in Belize or somewhere else I had never heard of. The loft was a maze of childhood treachery, spiral staircase, hard metal and cement edges. I refused to go up the stairs with Dylan and ended up buying a folding bed to sleep on in the living room. It was miserable so when Jane invited us to a Barbeque in Dublin I couldn’t refuse, I had to get out of Bachelor hell anywhere I could and being able to take the baby was a bonus.

It was time to eat my words or thoughts as they were, Dylan was gurgling and happy on Don’s lap while I stared at people that I thought that Jane would never associate with. They were preppy, lived in condo on a golf course and talked about golfing and tennis like it was a required social skill.

I tired to focus on the glass of wine in my hand while Jane sat holding Pricilla’s hand in a death grip and smiling. Both women were dressed in wrap dresses, tights and boots. My lip curled at their treachery.

“So you own a bar?”

Jane’s father looked at Don who smiled back at him.

“Yes.”

“What’s it called again?”
“The Pink Puss-E” Priscilla bit out through clenched teeth.

I turned and looked at her my face obscured by the wine glass and mouthed.

“You bitch” and took a sip of wine.

Priscilla’s lip curled into a smile. Just this morning she had assured me that this was a casual get together. Little did I know it was the first time Jane’s parents were being introduced to Jane’s girlfriend and the mother of her child.

The doorbell rang and everyone let out a collective sigh at the distraction, until I saw who the distraction was. James walked in looking gaunt, I looked down suddenly conflicted not because of the awkward explanation of his relation to the little group but because my heart leapt when I saw him. Dylan pumped his legs harder in excitement at his fathers’ deep drawl.

I chided myself…”he is the father of your child you are always going to be emotional about him…get a grip” I said the last out loud and didn’t mean to.

Jane caught my distress and rose. “Savannah why don’t’ you help me in the kitchen.”

In the kitchen Jane turned on me “Do you love him.”

“Yes” I blurted it out before I thought about it.

“Wait, who?” Jane smiled “James” she said as she started popping raspberry and brie hors devours on a baking sheet.

“Oh” I shook my head like I needed to clear it, even though I knew exactly who she was referring to.

“Of course I do, he is the father of my child.” I thought it sounded good and apparently Jane did to because she smiled. “I am sorry I tricked you.” She kissed me on the cheek then donned and oven mitt and popped the tray into the oven.

Jane made herself another Mojito and headed back into the fray, I wasn’t sure this party could get any worse. Apparently a few other close friends were invited to show up but had politely declined.

When the doorbell rang again I prayed that it was the police saying that we needed to evacuate. Instead I heard the dulcet tone of Raymond, a transplant from West Africa, via England. His accent had picked up the indigenous harmonies of his parents home and the posh sounds of British aristocrats.

His mother was a personal assistant to a wealthy textile tycoon and Raymond had spent his days surrounded by children with the plumiest of accents at the best schools. In London he was a well known footballer at one point. In San Francisco, he was gay interior designer and Jane’s boss.

I took a deep breath and walked out to greet the new guest and walked smack into James. I forced a smile.

“How are you doing? You look thin.”

“I am doing good, it was nice to be with the family.”

“Was it?” James smiled a little mournfully.

“I like your sister tremendously.” My smile was genuine as I relaxed a little.

“She spoke highly of you as well and is already planning on Dylan spending his vacations from school in New Orleans.” I frowned.

“Maybe in High School” James laughed and I took the opportunity to scoot past him.

Pricilla was holding Dylan looking at him like he was going to explode. Dylan was slobbering all over her and laughing about it.

It took me a second to notice that both Jane and Don were missing, while Raymond chatted freely with the rents’ my instinct told me not to go looking for them so I sat down.

Was this it? I thought to myself as I looked around the room.Married, with a baby from a former lover and Lesbians as my best friends?

I knew I was nuts every time I got the feeling to run away from it all. To go back to taking whatever drug I could get my hands on and cheap booze, I was lucky I wasn’t in a ditch. Even still I couldn’t help but feel that there was a part of me who didn’t want to be happy because that little part of me knew that I would be broken if anything happened to my family.

Times Up!

2008-06-20T11:50:00.000-07:00

James was staying in New Orleans. Part of me was glad that he would be gone and the other part of me wanted to plead with him not to ditch his son while he got his head together. Don and I were actually discussing moving here, I wanted to buy a small B&B and run it and then the Nugget could stay with me all of the time. We both decided to wait until things were a little less emotional to make a decision, plus there was the small fact that I couldn’t cook and didn’t know anything about lavender scented sheets and the niceties that went along with running a B&B.

Charlie and I had said our goodbyes yesterday. He promised to come visit and I promised the same. I shook of the feeling that I would never see him again. The last time I felt that way was when I was twelve. My grandmother had been in the hospital, I had to go back to school and she had asked me to filch some more Jello for her. She thanked me, kissed me and said “bye suga”. Something made me turn and look and she was looking right back at me her eyes soft over her Jello but it was like she was telling me that this was the last time and she urged me to keep going without opening her mouth. She slipped into a coma the next day and never regained consciousness.

Don knew what I was thinking and assured me we would be back and everything would be ok.

Back in San Francisco

When we touched down I don’t know what came over me. It was like an umbilical was tethered to me it had enough room in the plan but know it was tight, it was yanking me back. I hesitated at the curb, as Don loaded our bags into a Super Shuttle Van. Don urged me forward. I fished my cell phone out to call Charlie then chided myself. I dialed James instead.

“Come back to me.” was all he said when he answered. “Glad to hear you are ok.” I hung the phone up quickly, closed my eyes and imagined the umbilical snapping free from my belly and dissolving. I sighed with relief and climbed into the van.

“I think I am going to go to work tonight.” Don just smiled at me. “You can’t sit still for a minute can you? You have been on a plane for five hours.” I leaned over and kissed, Dylan chuckled making us both laugh.
Later that night.

At the Pink Pussy my skin tingled with excitement, I loved being at the Bar. I was dolled up in black custom made bustier with a red flower tucked in the back of ponytail. I had defiantly been hanging out in this place too long I was actually itching to get a tattoo. A portrait of Dylan.

I was lost in the thought when a blonde frat boy sidled up to the bar. Or at least I thought that is what he was. When he made direct eye contact with me unwavering and asked for an AMF I thought again. He was in his thirties, dressed preppy casual… drug dealer? As long as he wasn’t making deals in the bar, I really didn’t care. Two years ago I would have been buying from him.

“Are you Savannah?” My skin went from tingling to crawling. My back was to him when he asked the question. Fucking process server? I turned back to him “Yes”. I slid the drink across to him and laid my tits on the bar crossing my arms in front of me in a relaxed position. “What can I do for you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Wow, well that is a loaded question.” He extended his hand. “My name is Guy?” I shook it. “I know, I know, it’s cheesy.” I shrugged. “It is what it is.” I was still waiting for what the hell he wanted.

He must have heard my thoughts and answered. “Nothing, my friend just told me I should check you out the next time I was in town.”

“I see and your friend is?” Guy drank a generous gulp of his AMF.

“No one, just another “Guy” to you but he thought you were hot enough that I should make the trip”

Guy through a ten dollar tip on the table, “It was worth it", he looked me in the eye then at my breasts and turned and walked away.

For a minute my head swelled. “I’m famous”

“What?” Don had snuck up behind me again.

I chuckled as I made another Cock Sucker for the birthday boy at the end of the bar.

Bleeding Heart

2008-06-03T11:49:00.000-07:00

It was nearly four and the morning, Charlie and I just couldn’t seem to talk enough. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed him. Years of constantly moving around had taught me to compartmentalize my feelings, and Charlie was no exception. I think the day I left the city, I tucked him away for safe keeping but it was all coming back.
“Should we wait for the sun?” Charlie smiled it me and took another sip of club soda that had probably lost its fizz hours ago. I looked out into the darkness, New Orleans was never quiet. Right now deliveries were being made, cats were mewling to be let in out of the predawn cold and somewhere in the distance the Café Du Monde was greeting the first new customers of the day, the people who actually went to sleep last night.
“Eh let’s go to the café Charlie.” I did my best imitation of a Cajun accent. He smiled and stood up. I had temporarily moved Charlie into the second bedroom of our suite; I didn’t want to loose sight of him at the moment.
When I entered the bedroom I knew that Don was awake, I could feel it. It was like static electricity over my skin. I sat down next to him and leaned over him, kissing him twice. I don’t know what came over me, I started crying. Don wiped my eyes.
“I know, I love you too.” I kissed him again and sucked up my tears.
“Charlie and I are going to Café Du Monde, can I bring you anything?”
I ate enough beneigts to last a lifetime but I still wasn’t full. The city flowed through me as I sat across from Charlie in silence. It was easier to leave after connecting with Charlie. Charlie’s eyebrows rose as I took several deep breaths.
“Troubled?” Charlie bit into a fresh pastry.
“I am worried about James, he isn’t a happy man and weather he agrees with me or not his son can sense it.” I sipped my coffee.
“What happened between you anyway?” I smiled over my coffee cup.
Charlie held his hands up. “Do I want to know?” I laughed.
“James and I met shortly after I landed in San Francisco, we hooked up, that should have been the end of the story but instead we had a baby?”
“Good time gone wrong?” I thought about it.
“Not at all, I don’t think I would be married if I hadn’t gotten pregnant, he completely changed my life.”
“The baby or James.” I smiled at the question.
“Both, I suppose.”
Charlie twirled a plastic stirrer in his hand. “The man’s mother just died, give him some time.”
“He wasn’t happy before that Charlie, he had a uptight woman in his life that seemed to bring him about as much joy as a pillow over his face. He keeps trying to make moves on me.”
Charlie looked at me with a question.
“No, I haven’t accepted them; I love Don…too much I think.”
Charlie looked at me “I know what you mean.”

New Orleans

2007-12-10T14:17:00.000-08:00

I was dreading it. This is where my last significant relationship had begun and ended. I loved this town, the way it smelled the pulse of the people the gritty underbelly that I loved to scratch. New Orleans should be my name, when I stepped out of the airport with Dylan, Don and James the cities vibration overtook me and I couldn’t help but smile.

Mother Pearl had died yesterday evening with no pomp and circumstance. James father had only found out five days prior that his wife was dying; with no time to adjust he had simply gone into shock. James was petrified of what he would find, I felt at peace.

The next day as we followed the funeral procession on foot I watched James with his family. His sister was holding Dylan in almost a manic way to her chest while her own son walked by her side. James had his arm around her but every once and awhile would wipe the tears from his face.

He was all alone—in the middle of his family he was alone. I gripped Don’s hand harder. Don reacted by kissing my cheek and wrapping his arm around my waist. Eventually I was going to have to come clean with James that I knew his mother was dying before he did. I had hours of tape and notes about his family, things that he probably didn’t know.

I heard the band change from the morose lament that curled up your spine to the jazzy jubilation that accompanies the body to it’s final resting place. This was for Mother Pearl it was no longer about the rest of us. Don unconsciously tapped my waist to the rhythm and I stopped worrying about James, he would find his way.

When we crossed the threshold of the cemetery a familiar face stood at the entrance in a pair of coveralls holding a broom. His eyes lit up but he hesitated to say hello, I disengaged from Don and walked to him and his open arms. My uncle Charlie was a drifter but had settled in New Orleans some years ago and was around when I still lived here. He was 67, and looked better than my father did in his thirties. He had never touched drugs or alcohol but the death of his young wife had made him a bit crazy before I was even born.

Charlie laughed almost too loud holding me closely. It had never failed; we have always found each other like this. One night he picked me up out of the gutter after I passed out, another time I had gone into the library to escape the humidity and found him surrounding by books on bugs and now at the cemetery gates. He was my unlikely companion in the city, while I never felt lonely I always had a certain longing for family that Charlie filled.

Don interrupted by coughing softly.

“Don, this is Uncle Charlie on my fathers side. Charlie this is my Don, my husband.”

I don’t know why it came out like that. ‘Don, my husband” sounded awkward ringing back in my ears.

“Pleasure,” Charlie and dawn shook hand vigorously. Charlie was obviously pleased with the news his smile got even larger.

“You better get in side kid, I will find you when I get out.” He waved us through the cemetery gates. Don and I had to nearly jog to catch up to the procession. I bit my lip to hide my joy but it was obvious to Don who smirked.

I felt as though James was watching me but I refused to look at him, I knew my heart would sink and I didn’t want to let this moment go.

…

I knew I could escape greeting the family at James’ childhood home. Which should have been turned into a bed and breakfast decades ago, the Plantation stunk of old money and misdeeds, it was gorgeous.

Not willing to loose sight of Uncle Charlie I had pleaded with him to come to the house when I realized I could be stuck for hours. He agreed and showed up wearing a suit that was slightly out of style but made him look even more handsome.

I could see him walking down the driveway with flowers and I realized that I hadn’t even told him about Dylan, who was in the clutches of his fathers family still. I sat on the porch swing waiting, escaping. I held an untouched mint julep in my hand that Don had made when he got suckered into playing bartender.

James stepped out of the house but didn’t see me at first. He stared in the distance and lit up a cigarette. When he did see me, he flicked his ash on the pristine white porch and blew smoke out of his nose. The door opened behind him.

“Put that out.” his sister was holding Dylan and was attempting to at last pass him off.

“I will take him.” I stood and hurried toward the nugget who was two seconds away from crying. His lip quivered but when I tucked him into my arm and held me momentarily to my neck he calmed down.

Charlie was mounting the steps and I realized I was going to do some fast talking. He kissed me, James looked at me confused.

“James, this is my Uncle Charlie. Charlie, this is James, the father of my son Dylan.” Wow it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

Charlie refrained from chuckling, instead he looked at James. “James, I think we should call her Cat, because she always manages to land on our feet.” James smiled slightly and nodded before asking be excused.

I looked at Charlie apologetically, “His mother was the one who died.” Charlie smiled. “I know Sugar, these folks are famous round here.” I rolled my eyes and ushered Charlie to the porch swing.

Kill Me Now

2007-08-14T15:07:00.001-07:00

Lunch, Brunch or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it was not going well. If my high-heel could have found a hard surface it would be clicking a rapid beat on the floor. As it was my knee had hit the table twice, startling James’s mother. How do I get myself into these situations? Oh right, I get drunk and have sex with someone that I picked up in bar.

James was occupied with the Nugget who tried to walk this morning—he would bloody be in his right mind to run away from me. James’ momma was a true Southern Belle, while I was just blue collar trash. For some reason I found it difficult not to slip into my accent that I had rid myself of so long ago—but something about the way she said Savannah.

Mother Pearl, as she wanted to be called was dumped into my lap, two days ago I didn’t know she existed. Apparently this woman had no love for Ann Marie and James wanted to make up for his bride to be shortcomings with the mother of his child. She eyed me up and down, when I skipped the second round of mimosas and started knocking Gin Gimlets, I thought I saw her smile.

“Savannah, now where did you say you were from again?” Can I roll my eyes now?

“From Georgia, ma’am.” I did my best not to drawl and I was pulling it off.

“And what did you say your family did.” What a bitch.

“My father was into drinking, so much so that it killed him. My mother, well she is just a fuck-up all around who has a different boyfriend every week and a different excuse for why her life is so bad.”

James nearly pissed his pants—who would have known he was a mommas boy. I was just thankful that he wasn’t her oldest—if James were her oldest that bat would have crucified and James staked through the balls for his indiscretions. He was saved by the fact that his older brothers married proper southern woman and had their families traditionally.

Jesus. It was 12:37 and I was sitting in restaurant over looking the San Francisco Bay, I had choked down Oysters Rockefeller and now was staring down lobster quiche and green salad. The nugget looked at me and laughed—he had been doing that a lot. He found something about me hilarious, he was clapping his hands and throwing his head back against James.

“Mamamama”

I smiled, the little bugger was smart. I couldn’t wait for him to talk—I was lost in the image of Dylan the college student when Mother Pearl interrupted.

“So your husband owns, a bar?” She curled her lip when she said it.

“Yes, it’s called the Pink Pussy and I work there three nights a week as a bartender.”

“Oh, and does that pay well?” I was going to stick it to this elitist Ole Miss bitch.

“It pays quite well Mother Pearl… I was thinking—you have to see my home before you leave.”

She looked frightened and James scolded me. She had found his living accommodations to be less than satisfactory but as marketing VP she calculated that he made more money an d my house would be deplorable.

Across the bay…

I was bringing Mother Pearl a glass of water, the Nugget was down for a nap and I was praying that Don would come home. James made his excuses—which was he had to check on Ann Marie who didn’t know I would be at the brunch. I kicked off my shoes and watched as she marveled and Don’s random collection of valuables. It wasn’t my shit but what the hell did she know.

I frowned at my pantyhose; there was a hole in the toe. Without thinking I tucked my thumbs into the waistband under my dress and pulled them off. Bunching them up I am sure I had a look of utter pleasure on my face when Mother Pearl turned around. She took a step back as if my bare legs were just to much for her. When I realized it wasn’t me, I turned to find Don standing behind me.

I laughed then made my introductions.

“Don, this is Mother Pearl—James’ mother. Mother Pearl this is Don, my husband.”

Don extended his hand. He was actually dressed very nice in slacks with a button down black dress shirt, he had recently ditched the buddy holly glasses and was sporting some fashionable Dior glasses. He still looked like a thug, and the exposed tattoos didn’t help.

Her mouth was still open when the doorbell rang, then the person impatient stuck their key in the door and walked in. James had key, as did Jane. Something told me it wasn’t James. Jane rounded the corner and Mother Pearls hand fluttered to her chest. She had, had enough I should be nice.

“Mother Pearl, you must be tired would like to rest in one of the guest rooms until James returns?”

“Yes” she stammered.

I walked her upstairs to the frilliest bedroom we had, the walls were hand painted Chinoiserie Silk and hold over from the previous owner. I actually kind of dug it and it seemed to put Mother Pearl at ease. She had the bed, a chaise lounge and a bathroom so I figured she should feel safe for awhile.

As I walked downstairs to greet Don properly and find out what the hell Jane wanted I suddenly had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right. I trotted back to the Nuggets room and he was sound asleep and fine. Don and Jane were catching up on the couch. The smiled when they saw me but I turned and ran to Mother Pearl’s room.

She was laying on her side with her shoes off as I rounded the bed her face was grey and her eyes were clenched shut in pain. I said her name, it was barely a whisper but her eyes fluttered open and she reached out to me. I crawled on the bed as I took her in my arms her wig fell away—revealing a head only covered in small wisps of blonde hair.

I started crying and I felt panic build inside of me. “Don” my voice was stuck in my throat I swallowed hard but before I could try again she touched my face.

“It’s OK, I’m fine.” I looked down at her face and indeed the color was returning. I was still holding her and for some reason I couldn’t stop crying.
“What?”

“It’s cancer dear, the pains just getting worse that’s all.” She gently pulled herself out my arms and sat up straightening her suit and retrieving her wig.

“I can barely make it through an hour before my body chews through the pain medication. I guess they will want to put me on a drip soon.”

I took in a ragged breath and stopped my tears.

“I guess we have a lot of work to do then.” I retrieved a digital recorder from the office. Mother Pearl looked at it suspiciously.

“What exactly is it that you are doing, love?”

“Recording my sons history.”

She damn near smiled.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell James.” She coughed and made further adjustments to her wig.

“My family doesn’t know.” She looked remorseful.

“Have it your way.”

“Where were your parents born?” I switched on the recorder, I couldn’t think of anywhere else to start.

प्रेत्तy इन पिंक

2007-07-23T13:07:00.000-07:00

When you are a bartender you pray that certain things don’t happen during your shift. Like some drunken asshole deciding to do a striptease on the bar or a girl getting drugged and carried out by a raping sack of shit. The latter happened to me on Thursday.

I am careful with who handles drinks; I watch the crowd and point out losers to the bouncers. The waitresses are not allowed to chat when delivering drinks and when someone sends a drink to girl I walk it over. Somehow, I had missed the signs.

It’s Friday night and the regulars are buzzing. They are pointing fingers at who let the ball drop and every new face that walks in the door is a suspect. Michelle was just a neighborhood girl, she had a neighborhood job and this was her Cheers. Not particularly outgoing she would often leave after a couple of hours or if things got to rowdy.

Last night, she had decided to stay. This morning she woke up in a stranger’s bed, on automatic pilot she dressed called her roommate for help and hunkered in a coffee shop until she came.

The roommate being sensible had called the police despite Michelle’s protests. When I told Drew that I stopped by to see her at the counseling center, he told me that it was probably a bad idea but he was glad that I had.

The police had actually sent someone to the bar to question staff and test the booze that Michelle had been drinking. Giving up two bottles of Crown Royal was no big deal if it caught the bastard, nor was having our office searched.

We weren’t a high-roller hang out but anything is possible. In Vegas, LA, New York and even places in this city. Bartenders were kept on retainer to do the dirty work of rapists. No big deal, a little E to speed up the process, some GHB to make her forget and making that “special drink” taste like there was nothing it in it.

It all made for a handsome under-the-table business. Those men were just as guilty as the cowards who put them up to it and there was a special hell waiting just for them.

I can’t wait for my shift to be over. It’s 8:00PM.

2007-05-01T22:07:00.000-07:00

Something told me that the lawyer sitting in front of me wasn’t completely on the up and up, but then again…what lawyer was. He had checked out my tits twice and kept talking to me as if I were a retard. I was wearing my combat clothes, skinny jeans, red platforms and a black in white striped tunic with a wide belt that matched my shoes.

This fucking sucked. A part of me didn’t want to hurt James but the mother part of me knew that Dylan was bonded to…. This morning I had woken up to find Don with the nugget laying on his chest. Dylan was wide awake, looking back at me with those big blue eyes that didn’t have a worry in them. It was almost like he was listening t Don breathe. For a moment I imagined my brain was a camera and I carefully took in the detail and filed it away where it would always be safe, where it would always be mine.

“Do you love your Daddy?” damned if Dylan didn’t smile. The thought of them being separated ripped my heart open and made me pray for my own long life—something that had never occurred to me until now. I guess you could say that until that very moment I had never been afraid to die. Now I was petrified and sitting across from a man who was getting paid 400 dollars an hour to tell me that…would have no legal recourse unless James agreed to it.

Fuck me for doing the right thing. During the taxi ride home I thought of away to approach it. I thought of a way to make James think it was his idea. But then it hit me—I called him and asked him to come over for dinner before I left for the club that night.

To the outsider it probably looked like I was trying to manipulate him, to keep his eyes on my gams so he would loose his focus—but I was just more comfortable if I thought I looked good. I dressed in a black wrap dress that while comfortable hugged my curves and gave me the confidence I needed to ask what I was going to ask.

As I warmed up the corn and mashed potatoes, I thanked God for Safeway. I artfully arranged the pre cooked side dishes and roasted chicken artfully on a large white plate just as James rang the doorbell.

When I opened the door all of my rehearsal went out of the door. He was clean shaven and wearing a button down shirt with jeans. When he crossed the threshold before I could say come in I instinctively took a step back.

“Please.”

It was too late he cupped his hand behind my neck and met lips which were clamped shut. He tried, he nuzzled, probed and left me with a sick feeling that I predicted would take days to shake.

“Savannah, I?”

“You’re bored.” I held up my hand and nudged him away, trying to keep things light.

“Dinners ready, and I have to get to work so come on.” I walked away from him leaving him wondering about what I said. I hoped he didn’t’ think I was playing hard to get.

When he sat down across from me at the table and poked out the chicken I took a deep swig of the Guwurz that I set out for dinner. Sonnofabitch

“I want you to promise me that you will never keep Dylan away from Don.”

James didn’t look up from his food. He poked at it some more.

“I didn’t cook it.”

He smiled and took a large scoop of the potatoes. “Thank God.”

“I’m serious James.”

“You wouldn’t let me.” He ate some of the corn but continued to avoid the chicken.

“I mean if I’m not here.” I looked at my own food and suddenly found it revolting.

James swallowed hard, “are you taking off.”

I smiled at him, he thought I was running again.

“No, I mean if I am dead James.”

The fucker nearly had tears in eyes when he looked at me, I took another sip of my wine and stood up pacing.

“Are you fucking dying?” He pushed his food away.

I stopped mid gulp and laughed.

“No, I am not dying…”

James was bright red, I couldn’t tell what was going on his head.

“What are you getting at then?”

“I mean,” I paused to finish off my glass.

“I mean that if I die, that you will share custody with my husband.”

James shrugged.

“Fuck, OK. I mean I thought you had cancer or some shit.”

He started in on his food and I started shaking.

“You promise on your sons life and happiness?”

“I promise” he had a mouth full of chicken and roll.

“You scared the shit out of me Savannah.” He washed it down with his own wine.

I walked into the kitchen and doubled over with relief. My body shook as if something couldn’t’ escape it. When I finally started to cry it was silent, and painful.

When I finally put myself back together, James had finished his dinner and was waiting to take me to the pink Pussy.

Of all the Gin joints...

2007-04-04T10:18:00.000-07:00

With my luck, I should have known that James would have heard about the police paying a visit to the house. He was in was in my face and Don was no where to be found.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Where was Dylan?”
It was like machine gun fire in my ears. I answered his questions as quickly as possible, bristling with indignation that I would ever put our son in harms way, knowing I had done exactly that but letting Dotty into my home.
“I am taking him tonight.” James was so close I felt a light spray on my nose.
“It isn’t your night until tomorrow, but you are welcome to spend time with your son.” I remained calm, reminding myself to breath in and out.
“I can take him anytime I please, he is my child.” His words bit into my nerves, I felt my face grow warm as my body readied for a fight.
“He is your child.” I said it with as much understanding as I could muster. James turned away from me rubbing his forehead.
“Did he hurt you?” It was such a soft whisper that I thought I was hearing things and didn’t answer. Instead I studied the carpeting.
“Savannah, did he hurt you?” I looked up at James who was looking at me with my sons eyes.
“No, I’m fine.” James stepped toward me and started rubbing my arms. I had disarmed him but not raising my voice but I didn’t want his tenderness.
“I don’t know what I would have done with out you.” I looked at the floor again as he pulled me into an embrace, kissing my temple. Not good, I pulled away with the excuse that I had to pack some baby junk for the nugget.

I decided to visit Jane; she had been in a funk lately. Pricilla was miserable and making her feel every minute of it. I still hadn’t found out who the sperm donor was but I knew that they hadn’t gone used modern techniques. I had a suspicion that a gay man was involved—which would make Priscilla the obvious choice to get preggers since she was practically a man herself.
When I arrived at my old digs I didn’t bother to knock, I just made sure I called out before I saw something I didn’t want to see. It didn’t always work, I found Jane sitting on the couch clutching a pillow. Her eyes were swollen and she was either ready to have a downpour or had just finished one.
I sat down next to her and put my arm around her.
“Jesus.” I looked at the TV. “What are you watching?”
She looked at me incredulously, “It’s Casablanca.”
“Oh, I have heard of that one.” I succeeded in making Jane laugh, she put her head on my shoulder and continued to watch the film.
Something had been weighing on me since James had proffered his affection earlier. I realized that Don had no legal rights to Dylan, even though he loved him and cared for him as a father. Shit

Take two of these and call me in the morning.

2006-09-06T16:25:00.000-07:00

I woke up in the back of an ambulance with a oxygen mask being held over my face.

Fuck

I sat up abruptly immediately becoming dizzy. The ambulance door was still open, I tried to get of the stretcher but the EMT pushed me back down.

“Relax, you need to take a ride to the hospital to check out that noggin.”

I laid back down because there wasn’t really anything else I could do. I was dizzy and felt like I was going to throw up.

“I need to call my husband.”

“I will take care of that.” The police officer from the stairs stepped into the ambulance.

“What's his number?” He looked at his cell phone ready to dial.

He handed the phone to me after he dialed.

“Hey I was just about to call you to see how it went.” Don was calm as usual as if what I was about to tell him wouldn’t even disturb his frame of mind.

“Not so good…” I began.

I kept it brief as possible in attempt not to incriminate myself or scare Don. I told the truth, just not all of it. Like the fact that I knew why the guy was after me.

I kept struggling to sit up so the EMT raised the gurney to a more upright position. Through the door of the ambulance I could see Dotty talking to the police. I tried not to narrow my eyes. Who knows what she was telling them.

The officer stepped off of the ambulance.

“We will be in touch, feel better.”

Yah, I bet we would be in touch. As soon as he found out that the bounty hunter was trying to collar me for stabbing someone. I would be packed up and hauled back to Wyoming.

They scanned my brain at the hospital while I was butt naked with a blanket over me. I didn’t even get one of those little gowns.

By the time I was finished, an anxious husband was waiting to take me home as soon as he got the all clear. Personally I like to think that I just fainted, but the officer said I took a nasty spill and landed on the side of my head.

A hour later with an ice pack and a headache I was discharged into the care of my husband.

There was a cleaning van in the driveway as we pulled up to the house. I looked at Don wondering why he was calm enough to think about cleaning the house.

“The SFPD offered because they dusted the house for prints. I told them to send them and I would pay for it.”

Oh shit, shit.

I took my knife with me, I don’t remember touching anything in the cell and the guy never processed me. They had me for reckless driving which I already did community service for five years ago… the list continued in my head but their was no telling what I couldn’t’ account for.

The cleaning crew had left shortly after Don had put the key in the front door. They had spread out through the place in an obviously unnatural manner. Things were much cleaner than usual, you could smell it.

“Why did they fingerprint?” I tried to sound nonchalant.

“Apparently your mothers boyfriend is an ex con and has habit of escaping prosecution by claiming there was a one armed man.”

“I don’t understand, the police officer saw him trip me.”

“Yeah but he didn’t see him break into the house, they are just covering their bases.”

“I have to tell you something.”

Don stopped wiping chopping the onion he was working on sans tears which was amazing, and looked at me.

“You’re leaving me?”

“Fuck no, I have it too good.” I tried to make my response as humorous as possible.

When he didn’t look relived I closed the distance between us and took his face in my hands.

“I love you, but you are married to a wanted woman.”

He covered my hands with his own.

“What did you do?”

I stated quite simply, and for those of you who don’t remember.

“I was arrested for a drunk and disorderly, at the station I hurled on the cop who was supposed to be processing me. He threw me in a holding cell without booking me, he didn’t even have my ID. Some heifer they had pulled out the back woods from God knows where tried to shove my face into her crotch so stabbed her…”

Don was not blinking

“…in the neck.”

“Jesus” it was a good sign that he was still holding me.

“She lived Don, in the melee I stepped out of the police station and didn’t look back.”

“Jesus.”

I don’t think he was there honey.

Don went back to chopping his onion. I knew he had to process it all, James could get permanent custody easily. I could be patient, until he was ready.

I jumped when the doorbell rang a short time later.

Don looked at me and saw my dismay, he went to the door as I stood in the kitchen clutching a glass of wine.

I could hear a muffled voice ask, “Is Savannah home?”

“Shit, it was Dotty.” I had almost forgotten about her.

Before I had a chance to prepare myself she was standing before me. I started to tell her to get the hell out, before I could she held her hand up.

“Just let me say my peace, then I will leave.”

I closed my mouth then opened it again to take a sip of wine.

“I know about the baby, I just wanted to see him…it’s the only reason I came. I told the police that Ben was boyfriend and when I decided to break up with him, he went crazy.”

“Huff” I didn’t believe her or that the police would believe her.

“Look, I have caused you enough trouble.” she reached into her purse.

Here is my phone number if you decide that you need me. She handed me a piece of paper and started to leave.

“Dotty” I called out to her.

When she turned I embraced her.

“Take care.” I meant it. I also thought this would be last time I saw her until her funeral. She teared up but obediently left. Don walked her out.

Chocolate and Vodka

2006-08-10T11:20:00.000-07:00

There is nothing that chocolate and vodka couldn’t cure. I know this because I was having a Martini and nibbling on dark chocolate pieces spiced with some exotic blend while my mother rattled on about her latest marriage.

She was thinner than I remember and looked like she would break if you didn’t use extreme caution. Dylan was with James a day early, to make this visit from mommy dearest possible. Some part of me wanted to believe my secret was safe but come on, she had to know about my kid.

James had informed me that he and Ann Marie were taking a break? WTF does that mean exactly? She had gone back home to spend some time with her family and to decide if being married to James was what she really wanted or so she said. It was clear that James thought she was bluffing, she even accused him of being in love with me. Goddamn if I didn’t see hope flicker across the bastards face when he ran that one by me. I ignored him, kissed Dylan goodbye and told them both I would see them on Sunday.

By the time Dotty had shown up I had already had one Martini finished off and I was looking forward to the second. She had gotten dressed up for the occasion, wearing what I am sure was one of her best church suits at one time. When I opened the door she immediately asked to use “the little girls room”. Jesus—that was the kind of cutesy term she would use for public consumption when I was kid.

I walked around the house sipping my Martini wondering what she was going say and when she walked out of the door this time and how long it would be before I saw her again.

Don had a catered lunch delivered. Elegant little sandwiches, deserts and tea service—foo foo shit. When she finally sauntered into the dining room she clasped her hand together in delight at the spread. I had started eating without her.

“So this is how you live these days?” She started to pull a cigarette out of her purse then thought better of it she closed her purse then cleared her throat.

“You can smoke outside if you need to.”

I took alternating bites from the olive in my drink and the cold salmon and dill sandwich which was nothing but fancy tuna salad.

“No, that’s ok baby girl”

“Mama, please don’t”

“What, you are my baby.”

I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my drink.

“What do you want Dotty?”

“Nothing baby, I haven’t seen in just about forever.” she drawled.

“Ok then how did you find me?”

She smiled, I sensed something devious behind it but she was holding it for now.

“Well my new friend that I have been seeing, he is a real P.I.”

“You used a private dick ( I emphasized dick) to find me?”

“Sure did sugar, he just put your name into his computer and there you were. On file for the world to see applying for a marriage license.”

She went for the cigarettes again and shoved them back.

“Didn’t take too much information after that.”

She was nervous, I sat up trying to read her but I couldn’t. The doorbell rang, I didn’t move her eyes flitted toward the door.

“Who the fuck is that mama?”

“It’s just Ben, I wanted you two to meet.”

I got up and walked to the door, peering out the glass. Jesus, there was no way in hell I was going to open the door.

“Honey, just let him in.” she trotted over to the door grabbing the handle I pushed her back.

“No”

“Don’t be silly” she tried again but I pushed her back.

I grabbed the waistline of her skirt pulling her back.

“Get away from the door.”

She yelled out.

“Ben, this girl has gone crazy and won’t open the door.” she laughed nervously.

It was all the invite been needed, when he used his considerable bulk to ram into the door.

Dotty screamed.

The windows would be easy work. He was no fucking PI.

I grabbed Dotty dragging her behind me I went into the office shutting the door I pushed a bookcase in front of it. I heard the windows break.

“What’s going on? Why wouldn’t you open the door?”

I picked up the phone dialing 911, I rather deal with SFPD then get dragged back to Wyoming with that fucker.

“There is a man trying to break into my house.”

I gave the address with a shaky voice that wasn’t an act. What was going to happen to Dylan?

Yes I was in imminent danger, no I didn’t have a weapon. The dispatcher just wanted to keep me on the phone.

I finally sat the phone down. He was in the house, I could hear his heavy footfalls. Dotty was crying.

“What’s going on? What’s going on?”

I turned on Dotty, my lip curled.

“You brought a fucking bounty hunter to my home! My home!”

“What?” Dotty fisted her hands together looking pitiful.

“You brought that piece of shit here to collar me.” I screamed at her. I didn’t care if he knew where I was.

I was blind, I wanted my child I didn’t want to go to jail. I opened the closet and even with my tunnel vision found a aluminum baseball bat on the top shelf. When I wrapped my fingers around the rubber grip, I felt something primal surge through my body.

I screamed and shoved the bookcase out of the way. I was going to kill him.

“What are you doing?”

Dotty was behind me trying to hold me back, I threw the door wide. The chump was standing there and had the nerve to look smug. I cracked him in the groin with the end of the bat, fucker had a cup on. Where was my knife when I needed it? I dodged him when he tried to grab my shoulders with his meat hooks.

Thwack. I cracked the bat across his knee and felt a surge of energy when I heard the satisfying pop.

“You aren’t taking me! You are taking my kid!”

I cracked his thigh, thwack. He tumbled like and dead weight, recovered then started to draw down on me.

Fuck You

Dotty was screaming and sucking on snot pleading.

I knocked the gun out of his hand sending it skittering across the floor. I raised the bat over my right shoulder, Delores Claiborne here I come.

“Stop”

The voice was not coming from the piece of shit on the ground, with the bat still raised I turned on the first landing there was a cop. A muscular Asian man with his hand on his gun but not drawn.

“Ma’am come down her with me.”

Red spots flared in my vision, I felt sick.

“You're not taking my baby”

I adjusted my grip again.

“Ma’am come down here now.”

When I stepped over the prick, he grabbed my ankle, I fell head first down the stairs. That’s the last thing I remember.

When a stranger calls.

2006-07-31T14:17:00.000-07:00

The unexpected can be pleasant, a phone call from a friend, flowers from the person you would least expect them from, finding a twenty-dollar bill when you thought you were broke. This wasn’t pleasant, it was downright painful and I wanted it to be over.

Dylan was sleeping peacefully in his bassinet in the family room and I was settling down to watch GH (Yes it's soap and don't fucking ask), when the doorbell rang. At first, I ignored it. Despite the no solicitations sign we were bombarded by salesmen from Kirby Vacuum’s to Brinks home security systems. When it rang again I sat up straightening myself out. I looked like a mother, wearing a track suit and had my hair in one of those damn buns on the top of my head.

Two feet from the door, I had to check my anger when the doorbell rang again. I threw the it open. A woman was standing on the front steps with her head down, her hair once dyed red had faded to sickly orange color. I waved my hand in front of my face trying to disperse the swirl of cigarette smoke.

“May I help you?”

When the woman looked up, Jesus. She looked awful, deep lines creased her once beautiful face and the warm brown pools that were her eyes were milky and cold.

“Aren’t you going to hug me?”

I dutiful reached out my arms and hugged her, keeping my body as far away from as possible.

“Hi mama.”

I settled her into the living room where no one ever sat. I didn’t know if she knew anything about Dylan—if by some miracle she didn’t know I didn’t want her to find out. I brought her a glass of water, told her stay put and went to the office that was located midway up the stairs.

“Do you want me to come home?”

“No, I am going to have her leave soon.”

“Savannah she is your mother, what are you going to tell her?”

“The truth, that I am busy and I will talk to her tomorrow.”

“What are you busy doing?” I damn near giggled, I couldn’t help it. The sarcasm coming from his voice said he knew worlds about me and my frequent naps since having Dylan.

“Look Savannah, are you sure you don’t want me to come home?”

“Don, I want you to come home.” Silence. I don’t think he could have been more shocked if I had told him to mind his own damn business. I needed him, right now more than anyone or anything I needed in my life.

Dotty was smoking when I came back into the living room. The old impetuous me started making fast strokes back to the forefront of my brain. I pushed her back and walked over to Dotty removing the cigarette from her lips I put it out in the water I have given her earlier.

“This isn’t my house, please don’t smoke.”

“Huh! That’s not what I heard. I heard you got yourself a rich beau.” I smiled as sweetly as possible.

“You heard wrong.”

Then what’s all this, she stood up spinning around. When she started to the family room I started to panic—so I stopped her.

“Mother, what do you want?” I turned my back to her and walked into the dining room then the kitchen. You couldn’t see Dylan from the kitchen, I knew because I kept meaning to move his bassinet, right now I was thankful for being lazy.

Dotty followed like I wanted.

“I just wanted to see you baby.” She reached her hand up and touched my cheek I jumped away from her.

I heard the front door open and nearly burst into tears when I heard Don call out for me.

“Excuse me.” I walked to the front door. Don was calmly standing in the entryway I kissed him and folded into his arms. Dotty was standing behind me, I could feel her eyeing my husband.

“Sugar, does your husband know you are already stepping out on him?”

I turned to look at her.

“I am her husband.” Don walked over to Dotty and shook her hand and introduced himself. I prayed the Dylan was quiet for just few minutes more.

Ten minutes later saw Dotty leaving in a cab with a promise for a longer visit, Don had made my excuses then found me clutching Dylan to my chest, making the poor little guy squirm I was holding on so tight.

“That woman is not my mother.” Don gentle took Dylan and placed him back in his bassinet rubbing his tummy.

Don sat back down next tom me. “Then who is she?”

“I don’t know, but the woman who was my mother abandoned me after my father died—that was just her shell reanimated.”

Don reached out and pulled my chin toward him so I was looking him in the eyes. “That’s pretty deep Savannah.”

When I frowned at him, he smiled. I picked up the nearest pillow and hit him with it. He wrestled me down until I was pinned under him. He stared at me, brushing my hair away from my forehead.

“I’m not going to break.” I said it because I knew he was waiting.

“I know.” He kissed me.

Dear Diary, --I have just killed my husband.

2006-07-21T14:21:00.000-07:00

Here is to the dearly departed. Don was laying partially hanging off of the sofa trying to catch is breath and holding his man bits. I did my best to stifle a laugh as I padded over to the wet bar for a bottle of water. When I returned to the couch Don’s eyes were closed as if was still lost in what occurred 3 minutes ago. I placed the frosty plastic bottle of water against his stomach just to watch his muscles contract, he still didn’t open his eyes but gestured for me to get closer to him. When I did, he pulled me in for a kiss and patted the couch next to him, I laid down next to him stretching myself along side his unusually warm body…

Four hours earlier our home was unrecognizable it was crammed with so many bodies celebrating Jane’s and Pricilla’s pending bundle of joy… Don kept asking me if I invited certain people—annoyed I finally yelled “I know five-fucking people in San Francisco—who the hell did you think I invited.” I immediately felt bad, people were setting those red plastic cups on his antiques. Hell I don’t even know where the red plastic cups came from. They weren’t here when the party started.

The caterer had set out real glassware and enough food for 50 people to have 2.5 servings, whatever the hell that meant. The house groaned with the weight of had to be close to 100 people—obviously someone had blabbed several of my regulars at the Pussy had already said hello or waved from a distance. I didn’t notice, I was too busy trying to make sure no one stole anything—Jesus what the hell I have I turned into. I took a swig of the Diet Coke I had switched to when I realized how quickly things could get out of hand—someone please call the damn cops. Don had taken the other route and was drinking more, I watched him to another shot from across the room, the short burst of elation left his face soon after the alcohol was down his throat. I thought he was going to be sick until I saw him start to scan the room, he was looking for me. I was just behind a door way peering around, not because I was trying to be sneaky but because I could see two rooms at once this way.

He didn’t panic when he didn’t see me but he looked ill. What was I doing to him? I 'm not sure I made him happy, in fact I am fairly certain I scared the shit out of him. He was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop and it was starting to show, his weight was dropping. What do I do, make his fears come to fruition and bounce or do I reassure him? I wasn’t sure how to do that so I crossed the room to him and embraced him, I whispered that we needed to end the party—it was midnight and it would take at least an hour to get rid of all these people.

I knew from working in bars that it was a process. I turned the lights up just a little at first, turned the music down and slowly started to walk around cleaning up—Don, Jane and Pricilla followed my lead. By 1:30 we had the place to ourselves again and a big mess to clean up. I spotted a piece of Don’s Wedgwood teetering on the edge of table, I nudged it back onto the table hoping he didn’t spot his $50 dollar plate about to be obliterated. Who knew what else those maniacs got into.

Don was settling on the couch about to turn on the TV he motioned for me to join him and I panicked. I turned heading for the cellar to take count of the bottles.

“It’s ok, just sit.”

He reached out as if he was going to change the channel on the TV instead he threw the remote on the floor and jumped me. It took me nearly five minutes to stop laughing, he refused to give up though….

Dylan was at the other parents for one more evening and as much as I was enjoying my time with Don, I missed the nugget. I fell asleep next to Don ticking off the hours in my brain until James would bring him home.

Back In the Saddle

2006-05-09T09:45:00.000-07:00

I was back, with the kid safely parked other parents apartment. As James walked me to the door I whispered in his ear that if anything happened to my kid I would cut his dick off. The bastard kissed me on the mouth and grinned then went back into the house with his son. He was still cute, but I think he had gotten himself into more than he could handle with the conservative Ann Marie.

By the time I had reached the Pink Pussy I had damn near chewed all of my lipstick off, worrying about what the other mother was doing with Dylan. When I walked into the Pink Pussy applying a fresh coat of gloss, I quickly forgot about Ann Marie when I heard the band conducting a sound check and saw Don behind the bar with a pencil behind his ear.

He was rapidly going through the inventory making sure everything was set for the second busiest night of the week. What a geek, he had his Buddy Holly glasses on and for some reason had decided to let a thick stubble grow on his head. He had his long sleeve T-shirt pushed up showing off his tats, which included Dylan’s name. I told him not to put my name on his body anywhere, because if things went south I didn’t want to be responsible even so, Savannah now adorned his wrist.

My husband was so not my type, small and sinewy he was not intimidating but I knew the grace and speed that was contained in the tight package. He looked up and saw me and smiled then went back to work.

As my work night began, I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. As far as I was concerned, I had brought the party back to the Pussy. While my tummy wasn’t as tight as it had been 18 months ago it wasn’t half bad and my tits were fabulous. To let everyone know I thought so I tucked a hundred dollar bill in my cleavage that begged some drunk bastard to start a fight.

Damn, I was out of shape, my right arm was burning and both wrist ached like an old lady from flipping bottles. I knocked back a Kamikaze just as Jane walked through the door with Pricilla.

“Ladies!” I called out to them raising my arms over my head, I was feeling drunk but had only one drink.

I added Gray Goose Vodka, grenadine, a whole fresh squeezed orange and pomegranate juice to a shaker and had a Pink Pussy ready for them by the time they bellied up to the bar. Jane was glowing but Pricilla looked as evil as ever. I wanted to pull the damn bull ring out of her nose for ruining my evening.

“You damn sour faced lesbian, what the fuck is your problem?”

“She’s pregnant.” Jane gushed.

I couldn’t move, I felt something bubbling deep inside my gut, when it finally burst forth it was tit shaking belly busting laughter—my face grew warm as I gasped for air. Jane looked hurt.

“I feel you sister.”

I knocked back her drink then poured the rest from the shaker for Jane.

Life just kept more interesting.

Union Square

2006-04-27T14:54:00.000-07:00

A baby was crying, God, somewhere in the distance a baby wouldn’t stop crying. It’s piercing wails shattered my calm making my head throb. When I finally came out of my haze, I sat up abruptly causing my world to spin. I couldn’t decide if the headache started before or after Dylan started crying.
I stumbled to the crib plucking him up I unceremoniously patted him on his little ass and crawled back into bed with him. His cries died down to mewling as I lay there in the dimly lit room. This sucked I was depressed again. Nothing in me wanted this kid yet there was no way in hell I would ever give him up. What the fuck was wrong with me?
To answer my question, Mouse Face opened the door to my bedroom door without knocking.
“Yes” I didn’t bother to sit up or cover myself.
“I thought you were sleeping.” Her eyes averted my tits as if she would turn to stone if she looked.
“Well, I am awake.” Dylan was attempting to suck the pucker of skin between my arm and breast.
“Do you want…” I cut her off before she could finish.
“No, I got him.” It was time for them to move out. She was still standing the door staring at me and I wanted to get up and push her out.
“Goodbye” I waved at her sarcastically then laid back down with Dylan. I needed to get out of the house today.
Two hours later Dylan and I were sitting in Union Square deciding on where to go next. We had cleaned out Baby Gap; the Macy’s flagship store was void of their $200 dollar jeans in my size. I found a boutique with vintage T-shirts that cost and a ridiculous amount of money but I wasn’t ready to go home. My cell phone rang; I ignored it and headed to the Sketchers store. After that I would head over to Lush and buy some overpriced soap then I needed to find a Walgreen’s.
Dylan and I ate at fancy restaurant with tablecloths and nice plates then headed over to the Pink Pussy to have a talk with Daddy II. We were loaded down with crap and filled the trunk of a cab and the front seat. I wondered if my husband would regret putting money in my account every week. I hadn’t been spending anything, so I was fucking loaded.
The cab driver reluctantly helped us carry all of our bags inside so I didn’t give him a great tip. Don was behind the bar when we brought the last load in. I had one hand full of Dylan’s carrier and the other the last two bags.
“Wow, you know most of those places will deliver to your doorstep.” I smiled at him.
“Yeah but it’s not the same.” I set the bags down as he walked around the bar.
He kissed me, then Dylan.
“What’s up?” For the first time in a long time it was easy to say what I wanted.
“I want to come back to work.” I held up my hands to silence Don.
“Not bartending fulltime, I will do the books during the week with Dylan and on Thursday and Friday nights James and Mouse Face can keep the baby while I tend bar.”
“You have given this a lot of thought?” he rubbed my arms.
“Yes.” I had a question on my face.
“Deal.” he kissed me again.
I walked toward the back room to change Dylan. “Oh and it’s time for James and Mouse Face to move out”. With that, I shut the back door.
I thought I heard Don say he couldn’t agree more but it was probably just in my head. Alone in the office, well as alone as you can be with a baby strapped to your chest I felt the fog lifting and couldn’t wait until Friday night.

At Last

2005-12-12T15:45:00.000-08:00

My attempts at breast feeding had been a joke. The kid just wouldn't stay latched on so subsequently I had given up and he was now on formula making my life much easier. Everyone could take turns feeding him and we didn't have to be attached.

My alone time was few and far between, but I learned quickly that if I sent the group off without the kid the stayed gone longer. He was asleep on my chest making soft cooing noises, while we were partially sumberged in tub full of warm water. I felt like cooing myself. The lights were down low and I sipped at a hideously small glass of wine. Thankful for the quiet.

I was tempted put him down but I knew he would be fussy by the time I put him in his diaper and onesy. I sat there until the water was nearly too cold then got up walking into the bedroom naked. I set him down on a towel I had laid out earlier ont then quickly dried myself off. I patted his pruney skin then placed him still in the towel in the pillow bumber I had made then climbed in next to him.

When I woke James standing over me, it took me a minute to remember my modesty and pull the sheet over my bare breasts.

"Wow" he grinned at me before reaching down to pick up his son. Cradling him he walked out of the room. I turned on my side but couldn't find sleep right away, it seemed as though I had just drifted off when Don climbed in next to me.

I scooted as close to him as possible intent on going back to sleep when I felt him stiffen. I opened my eyes but could only make out the outline of his face. Touching his cheek, I asked him what was wrong.

He didn't answer, instead he carassed my arm from wrist to the shoulder, repeatedly then down my side. I smiled to myself then kissed him. I threw my leg over his waist and straddled him. I couldn't help but chuckle when he exhaled so forcefully that his hips pushed me up nearly an inch. It was our first time.

When I woke in the morning, Don was gone and Dylan was back. He was on his stomach facing me with his eyes open, he was making his fussy mouth, at any minute it would become his fussy cry. I propped myself up on the pillows then put him on my chest were he seemed most at home. I thought about what to do next, as if getting up and walking six feet across the room to grab a bottle out of the fridge and put it on the warmer required much thought.

After a few false starts I got up and got the bottle. Sitting cross legged on the bed I fed him. I must have looked like the madonna because when Jane knocked quietly on the door before letting herself in, she put her hand to her chest and gasped. I frowned at her before looking back a Dylan, then I noticed my still uncut hair hanging around my elbows and the fact that I was naked didn't help.

She sat down next to me on the bed and stroked Dylan's head, while I fed him. She sniffed. Oh Jesus here we go. The floodgates had just opened when the fiancée' walked in. So there she found us, me naked and holding Dylan with Jane curled up against me.

Hate was an ugly thing, but that I night her prejudice reared it's ugly head. Her boiling argument with James floated through the vents of the old house. She couldn't bare the thought of child being reared by such people?

Such people? Her soon to be husband had no qualms about throwing down with me on the first night we met and had probably repeated the scenario on numerous occasions and she was worried about about a couple of lipstick lesbians?

I fumed, Don was at work and I was sitting in plush chair next to Dylan’s crib with my legs curled up to my chest. I would be damned if my kid turned into prejudice right wing asshole.

Shit, I was a mother.

The Other Parents

2005-10-13T14:10:00.000-07:00

Some asshole nurse was telling me to take deep breaths while Jane and Pricilla clicked away with disposable camera and Don calmly held my hand. I felt as though someone had just punched me in the crotch simultaneously as they stabbed me in my kidney’s. I had gotten to the hospital to late to have my epidural and my labor was increasing rapidly.

An excruciating pain shot up my ass as like poker. I felt my whole stomach stiffen then watched horrified as it actually moved on it’s own. Oh fuck me, I wasn’t ready for this thing.

Don was ready, he had a nursery commissioned diapers, clothes and formula stocked. We had discussed breast feeding, names, schools? I felt like an idiot.

Some part of me never thought I would make it this far, in the back of my head I was always going to loose this kid—now I had my big chance to screw it up. Don had made me tell James about the baby, he had promptly demanded a paternity test. Good sign right? I told him to fuck off he immediately realized I was telling the truth and refused to sign away his parental rights.

He was in the waiting room with his fiancée of one week, who actually seemed to be salivating at the idea of an instant family. Go figure, we thought the party boy decided to settle down but Priscilla scooped us all. James new honey wasn’t new at all. They had been on again off again since they were fourteen and apparently getting me pregnant curbed James need to explore.

PUSH

I did, so hard my face turned red and the world began to spin. My ears started to ring, I felt something pop and my world went black.

When I came to, everyone was staring at me they weren’t smiling anymore. Jesus, I felt my heart flip over and I lost sensation in my toes. I closed my eyes and nearly started panting my chest was so tight. Finally someone spoke.

“It’s a boy.”

I opened one eye, my chest was tight because there was a nine pound baby on it mewling and looking dead at me with big blue pools where his eyes should be. Blue? I looked at Don who laughed—I had actually forgotten he wasn’t the father.

hat a mess. I started to cry out of sheer terror but everyone thought I was happy and joined in then started taking pictures.

Two days later on the ride home, Don dropped a bomb and not so subtly. I had just turned around for the tenth time to make sure Dylan (named after Bob and Thomas) was still there when he told me that he had let James and Ann Marie move in to the house.

“Are you insane?” I couldn’t help it, my hand flung out and clipped him on the back of the head. Call it a knee jerk reaction to someone telling you there was something worse waiting at home than the bundle in the backseat.

“Look, we agreed we didn’t want a custody battle, right”

I tried to speak but he wouldn’t let me.

We he finished I found that he reasoned that it was temporary and only until Dylan was ready to travel more. The house was big, but it wasn’t that big…

When we got home, there was cake again and punch and Dylan's other parents.

Garden of Eden

2005-08-24T14:12:00.000-07:00

Whoever said some days are better than others made a gross overstatement. Jane was sitting next to me holding my hand while Pricilla of all people applied my makeup. What the hell was I doing? Don had immediately said yes when I asked him to marry me. He didn’t smile, or jump for joy he simply said yes.

Now I was sitting in our bedroom on the trunk at the foot of the bed eyeing Jane’s champagne and wearing a simply strapless dress that fell “elegantly” over my bump and flat shoes. Jane had taken my hand because they were turning red from my fidgeting.

When Pricilla finished my makeup she shrugged.

“It’ll do”

I held up a mirror to the perfection that was my chubby pregnant face. As I angled my head from side to side I caught the slight smirk of pride of her face. I just had to burst her bubble.

“I look like a Goddamn Stepford Wife.”

Her smirk broke into a full on grin.

“I know, it’s a fucking miracle” she put the rest of her tools away.

Jane was near tears and I tried to ignore her.

“You look so beautiful.”

I still hadn’t cut my hair yet, but somehow Jane had managed to pile it all on top of my head.

“Show time” Pricilla was holding the door open.

Ten minutes later I was married in the back garden of the house I now called home. The guests included Don’s brother, Pricilla and Jane. Not every girls dream wedding, but we had full catered dinner and cake, you can’t forget the cake.

Later in the evening as I lounged across Don’s lap, Pricilla and Jane fought loudly over the Playstation 2 game that I had spent hours mastering, Katamari Damasi . While Don’s brother scowled at me over a the bottle of champagne he was drinking directly out of.

I scowled back at him and rested my hand over Don’s, which had found a willing perch on my stomach. Don must have sensed something because suddenly, after popping and olive in his mouth he announced that it was our bedtime.

It was ten minutes until 9:00 PM. As he stood taking me with him his brother followed me with his eyes. I had heard them arguing earlier, he didn’t think I was good enough for Don. Smart kid, he was right. So when I snuck back down stairs to raid the refrigerator at 2:00 AM and found him doing the same thing, I gave him an earful.

He was standing the Subzero with a spoon sticking out of his mouth. He hadn’t noticed me when I started my rant.

“You’re absolutely right.”

I nearly yelled it and the spoon dropped from his mouth and clamored to the floor.

“Ok” he shrugged.

“I’m not good enough for him, I am not even good enough for most people but I have survived this long on my own and I could survive now but I chose not to.”

“Ok”

“You don’t have to worry about me taking his money, I could give a shit about that.”

I moved until we were almost toe to toe.

“So here is your chance, lay it on me.”

“Wha?”

“The cuckolding, gold digger speech, lay it on me.”

“I don’t give a shit about his money either, I am just worried that your going to take that baby and run and smash his fucking heart.”

“Oh”

I took a step back, pointing my nose in the air as haughtily as possible.

“Shows how well you know me, I would leave the kid with him.”

I waited for a heartbeat before telling him I was kidding.

“I’m afraid for his heart too.” I retreated going back up the stairs without my snack to lie down next to my husband.

Jesus, I had total screwed myself. I was stuck all because I was afraid of becoming a man hating old lady with cats.

Madness I say.

2005-08-14T22:21:00.000-07:00

I knew I had to be going insane. I was talking to God and I swear the answers I got back sounded suspiciously like Sir Alec Guinness. I was working back in the bar, but no where near the booze, instead I was doing the accounting. A desk and a big damn belly that wouldn’t fit under it.

“Patience my child” Sir Alec said.

Fuck that, I had been crying for nearly three days straight. I was sleeping next to man that I had never made love too. I really can’t blame him, who the hell would want to fuck me? Pregnant with some party boys baby and growing disgust for life in general. It wasn’t fair that Don was stuck with me—fuck that, he stuck himself with me. I didn’t ask, did I?

It was almost happy hour and Don would be shooing me out the door to go home and rest. Instead of waiting I finished up my work, and locked the receipts back in the safe.

When I walked out of the office and saw Don talking to a familiar man, my heart turned over in my chest. I took a step back and without realizing it I put my hand over my stomach. The man turned to me and Don gestured in my direction with the dish rag he was holding.

“My girlfriend.” He said smiling at me.

Shit

The man who I had hit over the head nearly eight months ago was looking at me up and down, but he didn’t see me. I had pregnant belly and was wearing hot pink and had curls in my hair that I still hadn’t cut. He turned back to Don and said thank you then left.

I didn’t realize I was shaking until Don crossed the room to me and stroked my arms up and down.

“It’s ok.”

I shook my head negative.

“I’ve got to go, I have to get out of here.”

He didn’t recognize you, you don’t have to go anywhere.

“What the fuck did he say to you?”

The wait staff poured into the front door, a loud burst of chatter and bullshit.

“Let’s get you home.”

Don helped me out to the car, which these days was suspiciously a Jeep Grand Cherokee, the Jag had disappeared—I didn’t ask.

I couldn’t look at him on the way back to the house and didn’t get out to walk me to the door which was his norm. When I looked at him expectantly he spoke hesitantly.

“Are you going to be here when I get home?”

I nodded. Where the hell would I go anyway?

By 9 P.M. I was asleep. I had been severely put off after reading a short story about a woman who is depressed because she killed a friends baby on accident—no shit. That’s the kind of crap you’re not supposed to recover from—why right a story about it?

I think creativity is just another word for madness. Fear crept into my dreams along with the dead baby that turned out to be mine. I woke up screaming and fighting with the covers.

I don’t even think he woke up but Don hauled me back down by his side, and hooked his leg in mine and resumed snoring. He had probably only been asleep and hour, but I was ready to get up and start climbing the walls.

Instead I watched the sunrise with the weight of his arm resting on my side.

I thought about a lot of things. Like the first man who I thought was the love of my life. Shit, what the fuck did I know, I was only 19 and fell for his victim bullshit. You know, his wife was an evil bitch who wouldn't let him see his kids. Worst of all when his ex-wife showed back up I actually believed his lies, that they weren’t fucking and that they were just trying to make thing work for their children.

It was my fault that I was surprised when he said he had nothing to give me, and that I deserved better. Yeah right, two months later was shacked up with his ex with another brat on the way.

Sometime between sunrise and Don waking up to cook me breakfast I realized I had become one of the bitter bitches I despised.

So over a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, before I could catch myself I asked Don to marry me.

Shit, Damn, Muthafucka

2005-08-06T18:50:00.000-07:00

One month ago when I woke up at Don’s I promptly ran to the bathroom—ok so I didn’t know where it was and I nearly puked on the fluffy rug. Anyway I vomited. Today I was in a clinic with a bitch in starched jacket asking me if I knew who the father was. Jesus H. Christ. I thought of ramming a blade into my belly to cut it out, eating poison or doing as many drugs as I could find. Shit, with my luck I would end up still pregnant and 7 months later taking care of damn retard.

“Are you going to keep it?”

When I didn’t answer right away she woman waved a clipboard in front of my face. I blinked several times.

“Fuck off.” I stood up so fast the flimsy chair flipped over.

I pushed past the Jesus freaks in the lobby telling the young girls, that they could help and walked out. I wasn’t a scared fucking kid anymore, I was pushing thirty and about to go insane. I thought I had the God damn flu, I hurled for two weeks straight it didn’t matter if it was morning or night, besides I had lost nearly ten pounds. When the puking finally stopped I got back to a normal work schedule and didn’t give it a second thought. I hung out with Don on and off, and finally started to relax—now this shit.

There was a comfortable warmth in the city today, while locals fanned themselves and cranked up their cars air conditioning, I let the sun hit my face as I walked.

What the hell was I going to do?

I found myself on a bus to North Beach, I didn’t have anyone else to talk to. Outside of Don’s door I watched as a police cruiser drifted by, all eyes on me. I knocked, and let several minutes pass. I rang the doorbell and when he didn’t open the door I laid my cheek against it. When Don opened it I nearly fell in. He caught me, happily surprised and kissed me gently before returning to buttoning up his shirt.

There were so many things I could have said.

“I need a week off.”

“The stomach thing is back.”

Something, anything but instead I blurted out. “I’m pregnant, it’s not yours.”

He momentarily looked like I slapped him, then recovered.

“James?”

I nodded before wandering into the family room and collapsing on the sofa. Don followed me.

“What are you going to do about it?”

I shook my head, I sure as hell didn’t know and I sure as hell didn’t expect to hear what Don said next.

“Move in with me.”

I froze, the 72 inch flat screen HDTV in front of me reflected my blurry image. For the first time in my life I felt like I needed my mom.

Don closed the short distance to the couch and sat down next to me. I folded into him and sobbed.

Two months later I found myself still sitting on his couch, full of angst with a growing belly and a particular disdain for life. He came home every night, and kissed me and told me it was going to be ok. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. How the fuck did I get here? How the fuck did I let this sweet man become a part of my fucked up life?

I looked at his hopeful brown eyes and I wanted to love him but I was so fucked up that I couldn’t. I was going to fuck this up, fuck the kid up and everything else in between.

The cellar was only half my problem, today I had stared at the wet bar for nearly an hour. The fucking Grey Goose bottle was damn near talking to me.

When I heard the front door shut, I pretended to sleep. I had given in to the Goose and knocked back two shots, I was so afraid that he would find out.

“Savannah, lets go to bed” He pulled me up from the couch.

It was 3:30 AM when Don helped me into bed and went into the bathroom, it finally dawned on me that I had waited up for him. Maybe some small part of me was coming alive, maybe I should leave San Francisco.

Sour Grapes

2005-06-16T15:44:00.000-07:00

Grapes are always the sweetest thing in fruit salad. I love strawberries but for someone reason in the most colorful melanges they never stand out. I was sitting across from Don again, in one our early morning picnics, instead this time we were on his living room floor.

I hadn’t bothered glancing in the mirror since I left home yesterday evening, I knew I wouldn’t like what I saw—yet Don was watching me as if I were Angelina Jolie covered in bronzer, ready for a photo shoot. He had grabbed what was in his pantry and refrigerator and laid it out on a low mahogany table in his living room that was probably worth a year of my rent. I picked at the fruit salad, cheese and crackers wondering who the hell keeps this stuff in their fridge?

Earlier he had disappeared behind a bookshelf to get the wine beckoning me to follow, but when I peered through the opening at the stone lined walls and curved wooden staircase something in me had revolted. A cellar? I waited at the top of the stairs for him to return.

The familiar panic kept trying to take hold all night so everytime I felt a twinge I took a sip of the sweet Gewürztraminer, rolling it over my tongue. The first time, the sensation had only made it up to my right knee, now the wine was having a hard time keeping it subdued in my belly.

I was waiting, for anything. We were just staring at each other. Finally with no end in sight I dramatically collapsed onto the pillow behind me landing on my ponytail just wrong. Reaching up I started to take my hair loose then thought better of it—some guys got off on that shit.

“Now, I just have to figure out how to drink my wine from down here.”

He still didn’t say anything, and I suddenly couldn’t control the twinge anymore but before I could sit up to make a hasty exit, Don yanked me closer to him by pulling on my extended leg. Panic screamed through every cell in my body. Run! He cupped the back of my head and leaned over me.

Jesus.

Reaching behind his back he picked up my glass and put it to my lips.

“How’s that?”

I sipped, then unable to stifle my relief started laughing. Then he kissed me, I will still laughing so his upper lip hit my teeth. In my surprise, I kissed him back but when he tugged on the waist of my jeans to nestle my legs between his, I had to stop. He was my boss, whom I really liked and I really didn’t want to ruin, I felt like I could eat him alive.

Sitting up I forced him back on his heels, but he still didn’t break contact with my mouth. When I raised my hand to push him away as gently as possible, he took my hand and threaded his fingers through mine, suddenly something broke.

When he pulled away to kiss my face, I tasted my own tears and felt like a fool. I buried my face in his shoulder, he hugged me to his chest then stood up offering his hand. I took it.

When we reached his bedroom, he simply stripped down to his underwear and climbed into bed. I looked around lost, until he raised the cover on the other side of the bed. I started to climb in fully clothed. He chuckled.

Rolling my eyes, I stripped down to my panties and climbed in next to him, like a virgin I laid on my back pulling the covers to my chin. Grabbing my nearest arm he scooted me over and settled me into the crook of his arm.

“This will be the second time we’ve slept together, people are going to start talking.”

I fell asleep smiling.

North Beach Answers

2005-06-10T12:19:00.000-07:00

I wasn’t lucky enough to simply miss my shift, instead I woke up in a tub of freezing water with Don pulling my eye open. I was so numb I didn’t even sputter. At least I wasn’t naked. I pushed myself out of the tub, rising to my full height and blinked rapidly trying to clear my eyes.

“Did I miss something?”

The water sheeted off of me then continued to drip from my clothing. Don looked grave.

“What did you take?”

“Xanax and Beer, what did you take?”

I looked around the room, no Jane, no Pricilla.

“What are doing in here?”

“I came buy to see if you wanted a ride to work, Jane and Pricilla let me in on their way out.”

“So what? You just barged in my room?”

“Yeah I barged in after knocking for ten minutes straight.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped from the tub.

Don touched my arm, his hand was warm and made me shiver.

I thought he was going to console me, to tell me life wasn’t that bad. I thought he was going to council me like he was my big brother.

Instead, he looked at his watch.

“You have ten minutes to get dressed before you make us both late.”

Damn if he didn’t almost make me smile.

Defiant to the last, I was still buzzed and didn’t want to miss an opportunity. With a great deal of effort I pulled off my clothes, in a strip tease that was anything but sexy.

When my jeans and panties hit the floor, I pushed my hair out of my face.

He kept his gaze steady, never leaving my eyes.

“What’s with the mansion in North Beach?”

He looked down.

I stomped out of the bathroom to my room, Don followed me, my dripping clothing in hand. I found the towel I discarded this morning, dried off, and proceeded to dress myself. Don stood at the doorway seemingly speechless.

“Well?” I said as I pulled my hair back into a drippy ponytail.

I looked in the mirror, “Shit.”

I brushed on some blush, a quick two coats of mascara and some fuchsia gloss and I was ready.

Don was still staring at me, make a puddle.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I grabbed my purse and walked out of the room, he followed me. When I walked out to the street the first thing I saw was the Jag. My memories were suddenly like dominoes cascading back into my consciousness.

It was parked out side the PP the day I had my interview, it was outside the night of the party—right in front of Jim’s car.

He was never trying to hide it. I turned back to where Don was locking the front door, he had gotten rid of my clothes somewhere.

As he walked down the stoop to the street he didn’t take his eyes off of mine even has he rounded to the driver’s side door—it was as if he was afraid I was going to bolt.

He opened his door and got in. I pulled the passenger door open and slid into the buttery seat. I didn’t want to touch anything.

After a couple of blocks he spoke, “It’s mine.”

“I would hope so since you’re driving it.”

“No, I mean the house is mine.”

“Uh huh, I guess I just thought you were a different person, it’s my own fault.”

“You’re serious?”

“About?” I looked at my fingernails.

“You suddenly don’t like me because I have money.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you, I just don’t know you and we don’t have a whole lot in common.”

“Look, everything I have told is true, my father, everything.”

“Ok.” We were almost there so I looked out the window.

He slid into a parking spot, when I started to open the door before the car was in park he reached across me and held the door.

“Look, I am self made—ten years ago by luck I wrote some a software program that turned out to be very valuable. When an industry giant found out I had trumped them in something they were trying to develop, they offered to buy me out. My refusal sparked other companies to take notice and start making they started making offers too. Long story short, I sold out, I made a lot, bought the house, the Pink Pussy and have enough to live more than comfortably for the rest of my life…end of story.”

“Lucky bastard”

I pushed the door open and got out. My last minute entrance into the bar caused a stir with some of the regulars, who cheered.

Behind the bar, I cracked my knuckles, shook the kink out my neck and flipping a bottle of whiskey in my hand, filled three shot classes, slid them down the bar and said out loud to myself.

“Let’s get to work!”

The band took it as their cue to start playing, and as the music washed over me, I forgot about everything for awhile.

Too rich to stomach.

2005-05-02T23:06:00.000-07:00

All complainants please take a number and step to the rear of the line, fill out form 27FU in triplicate and wait for an eternity because Savannah is not listening.

I rolled onto my side and pushed up to my feet, all the while Don was still staring. Waving didn’t have the effect I was hoping for—the man was completely on edge. I crossed over to the now infamous dresser and pulled out a t-shirt. I didn’t have any PJ’s because normally, I slept naked.
At the edge of the bed I finally spoke.

“Shove over.”

He didn’t move.

“Mooove over.” I enunciated, making a rolling motion with my hand.

He finally scooted over and I climbed into bed, I reached up and turned off the light.

“Goodnight.”

I think I passed out before he ever laid back down.

Morning…

Don was gone when I woke up. I sat up looking for signs of his departure. A note? A red rose? A paper airplane like Tom Cruise left Kelly McGillis in Top Gun? Nothing.

I shrugged to myself and put my feet on the floor. I stretched; reaching for the ceiling then bent over and heard my back crack like a seventy-year-olds. I bent my knees—they protested.

I had once tried to be a yoga instructor in Tulsa. The director of the center fired me when she realized I didn’t know a downward facing dog from an elephant’s asshole. The memory made me smile.

Rolling back up I arched my back, thrusting my breasts forward just as the door opened.
Doesn’t anyone know how to knock?

It was Priscilla, something that surprised more than if it had been Don. She very rarely spoke to me and other than a few furtive glances she kept her distance. While Jane played the role of loving mother, Pricilla was the wary pit bull at her side.

“Yes”

I said it pleasantly as I rolled my shoulders back.

“Don wanted me to let you know that he would see you at work.”

“Thanks. Where’s Jane?”

“Don took her to work.” With that she frowned and shut the door.

Someone wasn’t happy. Maybe sweet sweet Jane was batting for both sides?

Oh well.

Sometimes I wished I could sit still, and read or watch TV or think heavy thoughts in some tacky journal covered in Zen phrases and Betty Boop stickers but that wasn’t me. If I wasn’t asleep, high or injured—I had to be moving.

By early afternoon I found myself in North Beach drinking in the rich world with my eyes. My brain couldn’t process it though, the mansions the cars and the nannies. It didn’t fucking compute.

So it really didn’t compute when I spied my employer walking into a three-story house with a bag of groceries. Not to mention the fucking Jag in the driveway. I looked at the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge, the people flying kites on the small beltway between the water and the street. I looked back at the house.

There was no way in hell he made that much money with that piss ass bar—and I knew the business. There was also no way in hell some guy getting beat downs by Daddy is going to be left a butt load of cash.

Time to go.

Angry for no reason, I slammed my hands into my pocket with my shoulders damn near reaching my ears and started to walk back to the bus—forgetting my destination the Palace of Fine Arts.

Fuck. I felt myself getting sick again but didn’t bother searching for an explanation.

I went home and took two of Jane’s Xanax and the rest of the beer in the fridge—one short of six pack and prayed that I would miss my shift.

I was such a fool.

Naked

2005-04-28T16:06:00.000-07:00

What the hell? I woke up and it was still dark, I panicked believing I had slept through another day. Scrambling off the bed I felt around blindly for my borrowed cell phone, the only time piece I had.

Well Goddamn, I had only been asleep for a couple of hours. With adrenaline still coursing through my body, I flopped back on the bed and fell asleep just as the sun was rising.

At 11:00 I woke up feeling more refreshed than I had in weeks, and realized I needed to find something to do with my time. After about 30 minutes and no bright ideas, I got dressed and headed to the grocery store where I purchased a giant bag of peanuts, a loaf of bread and a Coke.

The 33 Geary took me to the park where I sat for nearly two hours feeding the pidgins, squirrels and any other small birds that dared to venture close enough. I watched a pair of doves cooing and flitting amongst the chaos, together. Most unexpectedly Don was in my head with his eyes closed and his breath on my lips.

I jumped up shaking off the feeling and scattering the birds, the most industrious of which followed behind me for a few feet before giving up.

It was nap time, or so I hoped. When I opened the door to the apartment the air wasn’t right—it was stale and there was too much movement. Fuck, the sound people talking filled my ears—several people talking.

I walked into the kitchen to find more than a dozen people crowded in with drinks in their hands. That wouldn’t have been so bad but smack in the middle of the group was James, he nodded at me I smiled it couldn’t get any worse.

When you’re wrong, you’re just plain wrong. Don was standing off in a corner eyeballing James and halfway scowling. He looked different, I hadn’t ever really seen him in daylight, silhouetted in front of the window, he was almost angelic. Jesus, I started to turn heel and head to my room when a familiar hand touched my arm.

James stood in front of me looking me up and down.

“Hi”

“Hi, how are you sugar?”

Ok, so maybe the sarcasm was dripping a bit from tongue. I didn’t fancy running into my one night stands no matter how much fun they were. Don walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, he made eye contact with me when he opened it and swigged it back. Walking around me, he headed into the living room with rest of the small group.

James was still talking, but I didn’t hear him. So I smiled and excused myself, and said I would find him a few. I beelined for my room and didn’t emerge for two hours when it was time for me to leave for work. Pulling on my coat I walked as casually as possible to the front door, quickly spotting the asshole who had opened my door while I was dressing. The bastard had a lopsided grin on his face.

Next to him, a familiar bald head, with his chin dropped to his chest and a beer nearly tipping out of his hand. Ignoring the jackass I walked over to Don and nudged him with my knee.

He looked up with a goofy grin on his face.

“Walk me to work?”

He closed his eyes, still facing in my direction.

“I’m off.”

With that his head flopped back down to his chest.

“Ok?”

I made my exit quickly only to run into James standing on the stoop, smoking.

“Where have you been?”

I smiled shrugging my shoulders. “Sorry, I was so tired from work last night I fell asleep.”

“Ok, ok. Can I give you a ride to work?”

“Why not.”

The fucker tried to kiss me when I got of the car, I didn’t realize how much he had to drink. He barely missed clipping a taxi on the way here and stalled out on hill, laughing for what seemed like a lifetime before he stepped on the break to stop the car from rolling.

I snatched his keys out of the ignition when he tried to kiss me against my better judgement and called him a cab.

“You can get these here tomorrow.”

He didn’t even get mad.

“I knew you weren’t done with me.”

“Huh” I went into the Pink Pussy and found a small crowd already gathering and a band setting him. Trina, the waitress who saw me as competition was standing with a clipboard near the bar.

“You’re late.”

“Oh my.” I looked at my nonexistent watch.

“Don left me in charge.”

“I can see that.”

I gave her my rear and sauntered over to the bar where Shack was wiping down glasses with some other asshole I didn’t recognize.

“Hi gorgeous, I hear you have been doing pretty good filling in while I was gone.”

I laughed then forced myself to wink at him.

“This is my brother-in-law Mason, he is going to be helping out until I get back on my feet.”

“Ok” I shrugged it off but Shack kept talking.

“He’s worked at TGI Fridays and a couple of hotel bars but nothing like this, so be nice.”

“Ok”

I stashed my stuff under the bar and started wiping down the counter to warm up my arms.

At the end of the night Shack was long gone and Trina was still lording over the other waitresses and Mason.

She walked over to try her stuff with me.

“Get the broom from the back closet and sweep up.” She jerked her head toward the basement.

Fuck that I don't do brooms anymore. I finished wiping down the bar, and pulled my purse and jacket out from where I stashed them.

“Give it up honey.”

I walked out catching the last bus before 5:00 am.

The house was empty, the party was over apparently. Later I would find out that the participants in the mid week soirée had an annual shindig where everyone played hooky from work or suddenly got sick around noon to attend the party.

I stripped off my clothes as I walked, my bra was killing me for some reason. By the time I hit my door I only had my underwear on. Closing the door, I flopped down and shrieked when I found it was already occupied. My attempt to spring back up was thwarted when a hand covered my bare breast along with a jean clad leg the pulled me closer.

I turned my head to look at the intruder, who mumbled something and snuggled deeper into my flesh.

“Don!” Fuck, I hadn’t meant to say that so loud.

I jumped from the bed hitting the floor hard. I saw Don pop up suddenly wide awake.

I laid perfectly still on the floor hoping he would just pass back out. He didn’t, instead he turned on the light and looked over the side of the bed where I was laying in my underwear. I didn’t even bother to try to and cover up, what’s one more person who has seen me naked?

He closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened his eyes again, they grew slightly larger.

I did the only thing I could… I waved.

Mothers and Fathers

2005-04-16T12:46:00.000-07:00

Sometimes depression just creeps up on you, days, weeks and months go by before you realize it. That was never the case with me, it always hits me like an Acme anvil. I was standing in the shower crying, I had dry heaved in the shower for nearly 10 minutes before I could make the spasms stop.

I felt like a Goddamn pussy, fuck being a girl—it wasn’t an excuse in my book. I hugged myself and let the hot water run over me. I had taken some Xanax I found in the medicine cabinet so I was finally starting to calm down. Despite the warm water, goose bumps covered my body, and it wasn’t because of a warm fuzzy feeling.

I thought about the past few weeks, I thought about going back to Wyoming and coming clean—I thought about my mother. The salt from my tears left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“Fuck this shit.”

Turning off the water, I grabbed my towel and stepped from the shower I put my hair in a Barbara Eden, dolled up my face and threw on comfortable jeans and low cut tank, a vintage Yves Saint Laurent jacket and skinny scarf and I was off to grab dinner then head to the Pink Pussy.

Earlier I had listened to Don’s messages.

“Savannah, call me when you get this.”

“Savannah, this is Don, where are you?”

“Savannah, call me early if you can’t make it tomorrow.”

I stopped at a fancy sandwich shop and got turkey on wheat with extra spouts, plain potato chips and a ginger beer. I ate it as I walked juggling the sandwich and potato chips in one hand and the soda in the other. I chewed with purpose, and walked into the bar nearly an hour before my shift started.

Don stood behind the bar, a lowball glass in his hand. He never took his took his eyes off of me as he filled his glass with Wild Turkey. He knocked it back then spread his arms along the bar on each side.

“Glad to see you could make it.”

Seven hours later I found myself sitting on a tablecloth behind the bar with a Fat Tire in my hand. Before me on a tray was an assortment of deli foods, cold fried chicken, potato salad and bread. I listened as Don said goodnight to one of the waitresses, I keened my ears waiting for him to return.

It was Monday and the bar slowed down around 12:00, it was dead 2:00. The time was 2:30. An hour ago, Don asked me if I was hungry, when I said yes he disappeared and returned with the food now sitting in front of me.

I had stupidly thought he had invited everyone so I agreed to this late night meal. I knew I was in trouble when I heard him slide the gate down and lock the door.

“Shit”

I took another swig of beer and waited. Don returned and in an effortless move sat cross legged in front of me. He held out another beer to me and popped the top of one for himself.

“What’s going on?” I heard myself ask.

Fuck what the hell was I thinking.

Don, put the bottle to his lips then spoke. “My Father died this morning.”

“I’m sorry.”

Suddenly I was seven again holding my mothers hand as she smoked a cigarette outside of the hospital.

“Your Daddy died to today, so we can’t see him—ever." She took a drag off her cigarette.

“Ever again.” I still remembered how she flared her nostrils, then set out through the parking lot with determination dragging me behind her.

Shit, I didn’t know what the fuck to do for Don.

He stared at me as he drank his beer. I put mine down.

“Where’d you go?”

I blinked picking up a piece of salami, then I recounted how my father was taken to the emergency room with bleeding varices and died shortly after telling me that I was his baby and that he loved me.

I still remember the blood staining his mouth. My mother had led a clean life up until that point but at the moment of my fathers death I think she decided that it was best if she went with him, something she was still trying to accomplish.

Don looked at me, not with sympathy or pity, he just looked at me.

Fuck

I pushed up on my knuckles and leaned across our picnic and kissed him gently on the mouth. When I pulled back he was just opening his eyes.

“Good night, thank you for dinner.”

Don watched me stand up, the followed suite.

“I hated my father, he beat the hell out of me and my brother, this was a celebration.”

I smiled. “Good for you.”

Scooping up my belongings I hit the street after Don opened the door for me. I sucked in a breath as the damnable wet fog found me and clung to me. I wrapped my jacket tighter and hopped on the number No. 6 to head home.

The apartment was quiet, and I was thankful. I sat on the couch for an hour fighting sleep knowing that whatever I would find in my dreams wouldn’t be good tonight.

When I was finally ready I washed up and climbed into my sheets—sheets that someone other than me had washed. I should buy something nice for Jane.

I dreamed of my mother.

2005-04-13T09:21:00.000-07:00

Jerked Chicken and a Monday Gone

2005-04-11T20:50:00.000-07:00

I found myself in Reggae bar in the Haight. Some Rastafarian had offered me some of his very pungent green bud and I had taken him up on it. In a back alley I had inhaled the cool smoke slowly through the bong, savoring the sweet flavor. Not like that Mexican brown shit I had in Sacramento, a couple of hits and I damn near forgot my name.

Sitting at the bar now I savored a Red Stripe and sucked the salt off of the pretzels sitting infront of me. I needed to eat. Rising from my stool, ok more like sliding I started to head for the door.

“Eh where you going girl?”

“I need food.”

“We got food, sit your arse back down.”

I obeyed, a little to out of it not to sit back down. The bar was closed, had been for a at least an hour. I was one of two females in the bar, my competition was around 50 and her hair in a colorful wrap. She sat in a booth with two men playing dominos and laughing heartily.

A plate of food was set before me and I dug in, the munchies had taken their grip I had a mouthful of hot banana and black beans and it tasted damn good but weeks of not eating right left me full after a couple of bites of jerked chicken and rice. I looked at my plate guilty.

“Can I have a box?”

“Girl you can’t even get two bites intoya, how’d expect to eva grow an ass.”

I turned to find the head wrap woman standing behind me. I took another bite.
She laughed and shook her head. While still looking at me she raised her arm and signaled my friend who persuaded me not to leave. He brought me some plastic gladware and a plastic bag. I dutifully scraped my food into the container and put it into the bag. Knowing the next time it would see the light of day would be in landfill somewhere.

“Thank you.”

With her hands on her hips the woman looked me up and down.

“My names Nadia.”

“Savannah”

We shook hands as she showed me to the door.

“You need to come back and let me read you sometime.”

“Read me?”

“Nevermind child, you just come back.”

With that she shoved me out of the door a single yellow cab sat in front of the bar, I looked around suspiciously. I climbed in and gave directions to my apartment, as we neared I caught site of something I couldn’t quite believe. The sun, it was barely cresting over a distant hill.

Jesus, how the fuck long had I been in that place?

I tripped into the apartment after fumbling with the door for nearly 5 minutes. I hummed my way to my room stripped off my clothes and climbed into my bed. I had forgotten the damn food in the cab.

1:28 PM

I woke up sideways on the bed again. Before I opened my eyes I thought something had woken me a slow “swoosh”. I cracked one eye and found Priscilla pulling open my Goddamn dresser drawer.

My adrenaline immediately kicked up, and I jumped of the bed snatching her hair again in what I am sure was a painful ball.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

I yelled for Jane. She appeared in the doorway before I realized that something was not right. It was Monday.

“Answer me what the fuck are you doing?”

Rather than fighting Priscilla had frozen, taking the abuse.

Jane reached out her hand trying to subdue me.

“Now, now…calm down, just wait here.”

I threw Priscilla against the wall, she tripped lamely.

“Did you fucking set me up?” I was calm now, so calm I was scaring myself.
Whatever I looked like to them it must be frightening they were both staring at me wide eyed.

We were just trying to see what you took.

“What the fuck, are you my mother, I didn’t get home until 5:30 this morning, I’m was tired.”

Jane put her hands out, “5:30 yesterday, you got home at 5:30 yesterday.”

“What?”

I heard myself nearly shriek.

Priscilla rubbing the back of her head spoke, “you have been out cold—you sleep walked into the bathroom last night and we haven’t scene you since.”

“Shit”

“What did you take?”

“Mary Jane and Jerked Chicken.”

Jane looked innocent “ I have never heard of that?”

“Marijuana” I said sitting down on the bed.

Jane frowned, “no I mean jerked chicken, is that a designer drug?”

Priscilla frowned. “I think she means she ate jerked chicken.”

“Someone must of slipped me something.”

“I’m sorry about pulling your hair…again.”

Around the same time of my apology I realized I was wearing a pair of panties and nothing more.

“Fuck, thanks for your concern.”

I laid back on the bed trying to figure out what I was going to tell Don.

Priscilla walked out of the room and Jane followed, before she closed the door she paused.

“I called in for you last night, I told Don you had a high fever and looked like hell so I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Thanks”

I dug out the phone I had been given, I had three missed calls.

Breathe

2005-04-08T13:07:00.000-07:00

I can’t take this shit. I felt like my heart was going to fucking explode in my Goddamn chest. I had to get out, get high and get lost. The pressure in my chest was spinning and growing bigger by the second, I made it to the bathroom before I vomited.

I hadn’t bothered to close the door. The wife’s pregnant belly had prevented her from getting up too quickly. To her credit, she didn’t call for James—she stood in the doorway asking if I needed anything. Patient and understanding.

“No”

I thought about it, an empty stomach and beer didn’t make for a pretty combination coming up. I stood up wiping my mouth.

“Do you have any gum?”

She walked away for a minute and returned with a new toothbrush and a used tube of toothpaste.

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

She left me alone for the rest of the afternoon, but it didn’t help. Every time James touched the small of my back, my skin crawled. He wasn’t repulsive but it was if he was trying make sure the loving couple knew I was his.

What the fuck happened to my good time party boy with the sly smile. Suddenly in the car I was angry and having nowhere to direct my anger I pointed it at him.

“What the fuck was that about?”

He didn’t flinch.

“Look Dahlin, Melissa and Sam are my two best friends in the world, but every since they got hitched and got pregnant they want me to find the same—no offense but there is still to much fun to be had in this world.”

“I had a great time with you and you saved my ass—but I don’t see it happening again.”

Every ounce of stress drained from my body, I damn near sighed.

“Thank the Lord.”

“What?” he asked looking at me frowning.

I started laughing.

“Did you think I was looking for more than a good time?’

He was still speechless by the time he dropped me off at my house.

I winked at him and walked in to find Jane making out with her ex girlfriend.

They immediately stopped Jane beamed at me, blushing.

“Savannah, this is Priscilla.”

I raised my eyebrow, “sorry for pulling your hair.”

Her smirk suddenly turned into a snarl. I smiled bigger.

“Is that Jane’s dress.”

“Yes, and I can’t wait to strip it off.”

I walked back to my room, peeled off the dress and with a degree of defiance walked butt naked to the bathroom for a shower.

I washed off the last of James' smell from the small of my back and tried to get the puke smell out of my nose. What trouble could I get into tonight?

I was still thinking about it when back in my room, just as I was sliding on my jeans a rapid buzzing sound made me jump. WTF.

Looking around I felt safe again and continued fastening my jeans. BUUUUUZZZZZ

Fuck, I followed the sound, it was coming from under my bed.

Shit—my phone. A fucking phone I didn’t want. Don had given to me as a “loner” until I got my phone service set up. He knew damn good and well that I wasn’t going to buy a phone or get service for that matter. Hell I could blow town at any given second.

It was him on the other end, he was the only person who had the number. I answered with more than a degree of sarcasm in my voice.

“This is Savannah.”

No answer, I looked at the phone it was still connected. I put it to my ear.

“Savannah”

“Yes Don.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“I’m fine.” I frowned into the phone.

“Ok, I will see you tomorrow.”

He hung up without letting me respond. I had goose bumps and suddenly felt the need to get high again.

Nicotine and Ice Cream

2005-04-04T21:36:00.000-07:00

Childhood is fucked up, but it’s only when you look back on it that you realized how really fucked up it is. I was somewhere in Oakland, it was 2 o’clock in the afternoon on a Sunday and I had cold, weak beer in my hand.

Shit, I even had a God damn sundress on. What the fuck was I doing? Tex had woken up full of sunshine and happiness and dragged me here to his co-workers house for a barbeque. They were outside now standing around pitiful grill, killing four Cornish game hens for the second time and burning the corn on the cob.

I was in the house with the girlfriend, wife whatever the fuck she was. I was paralyzed with the beer sweating in my clammy hand staring out the window at a man that I didn’t care for at all. A temporary diversion had turned into a big mistake.

Beyond the men admiring the food on the grill I saw the top of an ice cream truck over the fence, it turned the corner but I could still hear it’s music. I listened as it grew faint and haunting. It was stupid, but growing up my neighborhood ice-cream man always gave me popsicle, even when I didn’t have the money. No he wasn’t a fucking perv, just a sweet old man.

During the summer, I couldn’t wait for him to come ‘round and I was always sad when it turned cold. One summer, less than a week before school let out I skipped down the driveway in my holey Keds and cutoff jeans—I practically jumped through the window—the hands that caught me had dirt under the fingernails and were stained with nicotine. A toothless face grinned at me touching my arms for a little bit too long. The smell of stale cigarettes tweaked my nose as I pushed back to the ground.

“What can get for you darling?”

I shook my head no.

“Don’t be shy now.”

I turned and ran back into my house, bypassing the living room where mother was arguing with her boyfriend. I curled up on my bed mourning not seeing my friend—later I would find out he had died from a massive heart attack.

I didn’t want to be here that day, I wished I could simply disappear from Earth without anyone taking notice. Today I felt the same, a crushing sense of loss for something I could never have—I downed the beer in two gulps and reached for another. Halfway through it when I finally surfaced for air the girlfriend was staring at me with two big brown eyes on head 2 feet above a very pregnant belly.

She smiled at me, flipping a dishtowel over her shoulder.

“Do you need any help?” I stammered out what I thought was the correct thing to say.

“No” I’m done. She smiled warmly again and I shifted my feet.

Fuck this.

I turned to bolt out of the front door; I couldn’t breath in this fucking dress. It was ridiculous, it was Jane’s and I was getting the hell out of here.

A small hand encircled my bicep.

“Why don’t we sit down.” the wife smiled at me again.

I downed the rest of the beer, she brought me another.

I made quick work of it.

“So, what’s your story?”

“I don’t have a story.” I frowned.

“Everyone has a story.” She leaned her head against the couch and played with her hair.

When I didn’t answer she continued.

“James has never brought anyone over, we have known him for three years.”

As if on cue, I heard him laugh.

I felt sick.

Long Legs and a Smile

2005-03-31T17:15:00.000-08:00

Jane returned from wherever just as I was finishing putting on my face. She didn’t come looking for me—at least I had something to be thankful for. I had smoked out my eyes and pulled back only the very top of my hair.

I went back to my bedroom and pulled on the long coat I had laid out. I picked up my purse to leave just as my bedroom door opened. I turned raising an eyebrow. There was a girl staring at me who sure as hell wasn’t Jane. She had long dark hair with severe bangs and bull ring hanging from her nose.

“Who the fuck are you?”

I put my purse over my shoulder and cocked my head.

“Savannah” I said it sweetly without an answer to her challenge.

“Where the fuck is my shit?”

“I suggest you talk to Jane about that.”

She started to walk toward the dresser.

“Do you want the dresser?”

She stopped and looked at me.

“I want my shit.”

“Then I suggest you talk to Jane.”

I narrowed my eyes letting her know that I wasn’t in the mood.

She went for it.

Well Goddamn Sonofabitch.

I grabbed a fistful of hair and swung her around so she was facing me again.
She lashed on trying to hit me.

“I suggest you talk to Jane.”

I pushed her toward the door still holding her hair. She cussed at me with a sad degree of impotence.

“Fuck you, you fucking whore.”

“Honey, I don’t even know you.”

I had dragged her as far as the living room when the front door opened. Jane entered, wearing glasses and holding a shopping bag. Her face fell. I let the lover go and walked past Jane. I was late for work and didn’t have time for this shit.

At work I found the place in near chaos, Shack had fallen down after work last night and broken his wrist. I shrugged, the fucker didn’t do anything anyway. More tips for me.

Looking forward to being alone behind the counter, I ended up with Don. Freaky quiet Don who creeped into my thoughts even when I wasn’t here. I was tense and he knew it.

“Whats wrong”

I was wiping down the counter so hard that muscles looked like they were straining.

“Got a lot on my mind.”

I quickly changed the subject.

“How long has it been since you tended the bar?”

“I was filling in until I hired you?”

I nodded and kept wiping down the counter. The seats were mostly full of people drinking water and soda, waiting for the real action to start and their friends to arrive.

Jesus, I could damn near hear that fuckers brain working as he moved around me.

I had forgone the titty top and was wearing a simple hot pink muscle shirt and jeans. I had adorned my ears with crystal covered hoops that I had picked up in a thrift store. A fake rose tattoo decorated my right bicep and so far had fooled a few.

As the crowed started trickling in I went on autopilot, disturbed by my hyper awareness of the short fucker working the bar with me. My salvation came through the door at exactly 11:03.

Not particularly good looking, he walked with an attitude that said otherwise. When he stepped up to the bar and ordered a Bud my lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile. He didn’t speak, he drawled and played with the Sierra Nevada cap I had left on the bar.

He hung around drinking his beer and watching me. Jesus I needed this…

He caught my hand and hour later as I picked up his empty draft glass.

“What’s your name dawlin?”

I bit my lip and shifted to my other foot.

“Savannah”

He smiled.

“You from Georgia, Savannah?”

“Many moons and drinks ago.” I replied.

He smiled and drank from the fresh beer I put in front of him.

By three I was tangled up in the sheets with him in my former Lesbian bed. We had christened it three times. I didn’t realize until he started snoring, that I was painfully sober and had a stranger in my bed.

Cleaning House

2005-03-25T16:57:00.000-08:00

What the fuck? How did I get here, San Francisco with a Goddamn lesbian for a roommate. She was in the bathroom telling me her life story. I watched her from down the hall not wanting to get to close. She looked at herself in the mirror as she scrubbed her face-as if she didn’t know where it was.

It was 3:00 am and I wanted nothing more than to curl up on the sofa and sleep. When she emerged from the bathroom she showed me my room. My room? It didn’t sound right. The room was small with a large window that had a great view of the building next door, the only furniture was an unmade bed and a dresser.

“It belonged to my ex, she left everything when she moved out so I sold everything but the bed and chest of drawers.”

“Good enough for now:” I shrugged my shoulders as if I was used to better.

I walked into the room and collapsed on my bed. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as soon as my face hit the mattress. It was too fresh…everything smelled clean. I inhaled deeply. Lemon, wax and some other cleaning product I didn’t recognize.

“When did your girlfriend leave you?”

“Day before yesterday, I went out last night to celebrate the purge.”

Shit, for once I kept my mouth shut and didn’t say it out loud.

I scooted all the way on the bed, sat up and took off my boots. She was still watching me.

“Got any sheets?”

Jane tucked her behind her ear and disappeared she returned with sheets, a towel and a bar of soap. Too bad there was no food, because I was fucking hungry again.

Jane yawned “ I’ll show you the rest in the morning, I’m tired.”

With that she turned on her heel and left me alone. I looked at the towel and soap, scooping them up I headed into the bathroom—I took a lonbg much need shower. Both arms were sticky up to the elbow, and itchy.

I washed away the borrowed makeup and lotion and realized that tomorrow I needed to get supplies.

I went back to the bedroom, made the bed and fell into a deep sleep. I woke up at noon to Jane standing in front of me with coffee in a paper cup.

“Hi, don’t feel bad I just woke up an hour ago.”

I pushed myself up, the room was filled with light and I was lying sideways on the pink floral sheets. I wiped the drool from my face and took the coffee from Jane’s oustreched hand.

“Thanks”

I took a sip and nearly spit it out—cream and sugar. I just didn’t see the point of ruining a good cup of coffee. I drank it anyway.

Jane stood there drinking her coffee her eyebrow raised as she zipped.

Fuck, I pulled the sheet up. I was butt naked.

Jane smiled and walked out of the room without saying anything. I guess the show was over.

I pulled on my Jeans, wife beater and boots. I forgot to buy frigging underwear. Limping into the living room I found Jane curled up reading the paper with her shoes off.

“Do you have any paper?”

She got up and handed me a note pad.”

“Pen”

She handed me one, smiling over her coffee again.

“What did you say happened to your clothes?”

“My asshole boyfriend burned them.”

It was true but that had been nearly six months ago in Denver. He came home and I was high, passed out on the couch. That isn’t what pissed him though—the fact that I was naked and my dealer was lying on the floor next to the couch is what pissed him off.

It was too bad really, I really liked Gabe but he had a bad temper. I hadn’t even gotten busy with the dealer. We had been drinking and smoking and things just got a bit out of control.

Oh well.

“I see.”

“Do you need to borrow some?”

“No, I am going shopping today.”

“Where?”

I shrugged and walked back into my room. I had added another 300 dollars to the wad the old lady gave me.

I knew it wouldn’t be like that every night. I pulled out 1500 dollars and walked back to where Marie was sitting on the couch. I handed her 500 and told her I would be back later.

“Do you need a coat?”

I stopped with my back to her, and shifted to my other foot.

“Please”

She came back with a heavy hooded sweatshirt. I put it on, while I was zipping it up I got Jane looking at me again.

“It goes with your outfit.”

I looked down at it, it was black with white writing on it that I didn’t bother to read.

“Thanks”

I walked out the front door without a clue where I was going.

I found myself in Walgreens, with a basket full of goodies.

Mascara, lipstick, gloss, liner, foundation, plain lotion, lotion with shimmer in it, bar soap, liquid soap—Loreal, Revlon, Max Factor, Cover Girl. I stopped myself before I was completely out of control. I still needed clothes.

Instead of going back downtown I wandered into the Haight. I bought a hodge podge of thrift store clothing and new stuff. By the time I was finished I couldn’t carry it all, I had to flag down a cab. I was lightheaded and had to be at work in two hours.

Dirty Boots and Jane

2005-03-21T12:33:00.000-08:00

No one could see my boots behind the bar, but they were bugging the shit out of me. The edges were still slightly caked with dirt from my trek in Nevada and the fancy jeans I had on kept dragging on the liquor stained floor then mixing with the dirt, I couldn’t help but think that they were being ruined.

It was still early, but the Pink Pussy was full of customers who were more than willing to buy the overpriced drinks. I arched my back without thinking and suddenly was face to face with a throng of men who only moments before were interested in the band. I wiped their glasses, poured their shots and squeezed limes in their beers. So far I only had two offers to lick the juice off my fingers.

The room was noisy mix of people who thought blending the forties and fifties clothing, tattoos and piercings was a good idea. I just didn’t get it—one girl had plugs the size of quarters in her ear, a lip and nose piercing plus full tattoo sleeves on each arm. She was wearing a swing dress and had a Betty Paige haircut. It was butt fucking ugly if you asked me.

I served them, Gin and Tonics, Manhattans, Bloody Mary’s, Martini’s and Gibson’s. I smiled, winked, and gave them advice on their love life. They ate my words with their drinks, and kept ordering more.

The band on stage was doing a poor imitation of Lionel Hampton & his Orchestra, no one danced—they just kind of swayed clutching their drinks—there wasn’t room to dance anyway.

All that bastard Shack did was talk. It would be a stretch to say he pulled more than a couple of drafts and mixed four our five drinks. I didn’t give a shit though, my I had pocketed so many tips that both pockets were bulging.

A female customer pushed through the men standing in front of me. She was pretty, with a short blonde bob and bright green eyes—she was only marred by one piercing in her lip. She set her tits on the bar and smiled—when I didn’t take the bait, she quickly righted herself and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"What can I make for you?" She looked around indecisive.

Two men who were obviously here for the novelty approached the bar. They were both wearing chinos and button down striped shirts. One of them signaled me with is finger. The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Go ahead" she smiled again.

"Uh, babe, I’ll I have a gin and tonic, and my friend will have a…" he turned to his friend who was busy looking at my tits.

"What’ll you have man?"

His friend finally answered without removing his eyes. "A beer"

I raised my eyebrow, pulled a Pabst—the cheapest crap we had and mixed up the Gin and Tonic.

I pulled a matches out of my back pocket, poured a shot of gin and set it on fire.

Chinos eyes widened. The flame was virtually invisible.

"On the house, and don’t forget to blow."

He quickly blew out the flame, vapor trailed up from the drink. The girl was grinning from ear to ear, and she finally ordered a Cosmopolitan.

By the end of the evening she was my new roommate—her name was Jane and I wasn’t to sure how the whole Lesbian think was going work out but it was worth a shot.

Help Wanted

2005-03-04T14:29:00.000-08:00

The cabbie kept eyeballing me from in the review mirror, I ignored him and told him to drive slower. I looked around, there were targets everywhere but they weren’t quite right. As the cabbie turned on Harrison, the one I had been waiting for was suddenly before me like a gleaming beacon. I had barely been in the cab twenty minutes.

I paid the cabbie, when he asked me for a date I told him to see me when he was off. If he had enough money I would play. The place wasn’t exactly a bright spot on the street and the neighborhood didn’t look like the best, but it had potential.

I doubted if the neon HELP WANTED sign was for real—probably just a bid to draw people in but it was worth a try. The door was propped open a couple of inches, I bumped it with my hip and stepped in making an entrance that wasn’t necessary… There was no one on the other side.
The room was bathed in a soft light, but it still showed me enough. The floor was grubby cement that had been painted over a dozen times. Pink, red, gray…they had tried them all. I heard someone coming, heavy footfalls moving with quick deliberation. I made myself walk in further, I set down my bag in a nearby chair and waited.

The door directly across me opened, a young man stepped through it—he was about half the size of his footsteps and was carrying two trays of glasses and flat of soda.. Small and wiry he had a shaved head and Buddy Holly glasses. I watched his arms flex with weight, but he didn’t seem strained. He glanced at me and continued over to the bar that snaked around the wall to my right.

A large neon on sign behind the counter said "The Pink Pussy", the outline of woman with a cat tail and ears straddled the P’s in the sign. He set the goods down and turned his attention to me. He didn’t speak—which immediately unnerved me—he simply stared. He closed the distance between us and I realized that I had lost my voice as well.

"I saw the help wanted sign."

He didn’t laugh, or smile.

"Where have you worked?"

His voice was deep and silky, I tightened my body up at the sound my arms covered in goose bumps and was sure that he noticed.

I rattled off a list of bars and cities. I saw the doubt in face and waited.

"Whiskey Sour"

"Fresh or that mix shit."

I didn’t mean to curse, he smiled.

Fresh.

1 whole lemon squeezed, 2 oz of whiskey customers choice, 2 tsp. confectioners sugar, garnish with a lemon slice and a cherry.

He rattled of a series of drinks, to which I quickly laid out the recipes.

When can you start?

Tonight

He looked me up and down.

"What your wearing is fine, but you won’t survive in those shoes."

I have others.

He stepped closer.

"May I ask a personal question?"

I was about to tell him to fuck off, then my curiosity got the better of me.

"How old are you?"

I shifted from one foot to the other.

"29"

Two hours, and ten pages of lies later I was working behind the bar under my legitimate name. The other bartender, who went by Shack and three waitresses had all arrived as Don was showing me around. The waitresses were younger than me, at least the looked like they were, Shack was in his forties and Don I found out was 31. They little barmaids were sitting down waiting for the after work crowed to start teetering in and eyeing me. Every once and a while they would giggle or lean over to each other and whisper with a hand covering their mouths.
I didn’t give a shit. I had all of them on any given day—the best looking one was a train wreck compared to me.

At exactly 4:07 PM the first group of customers walked through the door.
Show time.

Carmen Phillips

2005-02-24T15:59:00.000-08:00

I woke up to someone pounding on my door. It was going to be a long fucking day. My head throbbed as I fought to keep out the noise. The sorry ass excuse for a pillow I had over my head wasn’t working. I threw it off and got up and to go to the door. I opened it wide, trying to make my anger felt. A man in a suit with dark sunglasses was staring back at me, fist still raised mid-knock. He leaned back and looked at the doors on either side of mine.

"Who are you?"

I would have thought FED, but he was way to slick.

Nunya

"Nunya who?"

I can’t believe he fell for it.

"Nunya Goddamn business, that’s who."

I started to slam the door but his foot breached the threshold. I slammed it anyway and heard a crack when the door hit the flat of his palm. The calm I saw on his face evaporated into a glistening sheen on his forehead that trickled down to his reddened cheeks. Not one to normally back away from a fight, I took two steps into the room.

"I just got here last night, I don’t know who you are looking for…but it ain’t me."
I looked at my jacket and boots on the floor. They were the only things I needed to run. The cash was in my jacket and the knife was in my boots.

He saw me look at them and lunged, snatching up my coat.

I couldn’t let him take my money. I grabbed the nearest thing that wasn’t bolted down, it just happen to be the bedside lamp. Now, no matter what you have seen in the movies or on TV, hitting someone over the head is not pleasant. It doesn’t make a snappy sound, it’s more like a sickening thud that instantly creates a nauseating curl in your belly.

Thud

He hit the ground, it was a clean hit, no blood and he was still breathing.
I put on my boots, grabbed my jacket and walked out the door. I thought about leaving a note.

"I DIDN’T DO IT"

Well ok, I just gave him a reason to look for me, I hit him over the head. But I sure as hell wasn’t the person who took his money or whatever he was missing.

Shit

Where was I going to go now? I wasn’t ready to leave San Francisco.

I wandered down Market Street in the throng of people headed for lunch. Tourist snapped photos and pointed at odd looking people but they paid no attention to me. I breathed in the greasy air, tinged from a thousand grills firing up to serve the masses.

It was going to take a big lie to get me settled anywhere, but I was prepared for it. In The San Francisco Shopping Center I found what I was looking for, what I needed, to pull of the lie. A cheap bustier to push up my tits some tight fitting jeans that hugged my ass and spiked heals.
In a public bathroom I washed up, changed clothes and stuffed my dirty ones into the bag that was given to me when I made my purchase.

My hair wasn’t right, it was too long and I didn’t want to pay for a cut. I helped myself to a blow dryer and some hairspray in a mall salon—it was twenty minutes before anyone said anything.

"Who are you?"

"I’m friends with Jana."

I finished the last section and pulled it back into ponytail that brushed the middle of my back.
Satisfied I sprayed it liberally then turned to the woman questioning me.

"Thank you."

I raised my eyebrow and walked around her exiting the store.

In Macy’s it was my lucky day, M.A.C. was having free makeovers. It wasn’t my style but after slapping on some moisturizer at the Clinique counter and spritzing myself with perfume. I walked on over. The ooo’d and awed over my cheekbones, my lips. The only thing I could thank my mother for was my looks, they helped me get by when there was no other way. My fathers Mediterranean heritage gave them longevity, despite the smoking and drinking. Everyone said my mother looked like Carmen Phillips, whoever the hell that was…

When they were done a girl tried to hold up a hand held mirror for me to admire myself. I brushed it away and walked over to a full length one nearby.

My arms were lean, my stomach was still flat, I was a bit hipy from the crap I ate, but it worked. You could barely see the small lines that I noticed forming around my eyes. With a flip of my ponytail I walked away from the M.A.C. counter. On the street I hailed a cab.

There was one thing I was good at, now I just needed to find someone who needed my skills.

2005-02-23T12:14:00.000-08:00

The Old Days

Savannah in San Francisco

2005-02-23T11:27:00.000-08:00

I was in deep shit. Of course I had I.D. it was it was tucked into the same place my ticket was—but could I risk showing it to them? Hell, if they pulled me in they were going to find it anyway. I fished it out. The officer took it from me, looked at it, then passed it back to the other officer.

"Can you please step off the bus ma’am."

I followed them off the bus, I could see through the glass into the station—people were still waiting, apparently nothing had stopped because I had temporarily checked out. I looked to my right where two patrol cars were blocking the driveway, their lights bouncing off the roof of the depot and flashing across my cheek. A group of taxi-drivers stood around with their hands in their pockets watching—maybe hoping that I would be desperate enough to fight.

I should be in San Francisco.

Slow motion in my brain—the second cop walked back to his patrol car to run my license. What would turn up? Shit, I couldn’t tell you, it had been so long since anyone had even said my real name, let alone ask it. Savannah Marie Brown was a relic that had long ago morphed into Sarah Brown, Marie Browning and one time even Browning Marie St. James. Don’t ask me where the fuck I got that one from.

I wiped my nose the officer in front of me was just standing there watching his partner—waiting to arrest me.

The 2nd cop came back and handed my license back to the first.

"You’re along way from Georgia, Ms. Brown."

"I find it boring to stay in one place too long."

"Where is your luggage?"

I shook my head and lied. "Probably in San Francisco"

"He looked at my license one more time then handed it back to me."

"There’s your bus, stay out of trouble. " He pointed to the bus next us whose driver was watching the show through the rearview mirror. Then the smug bastard just walked away.

I climbed onboard the to find one empty seat, and rows and rows of open eyes. Fuck off—I was pretty sure that is what it said across my face, my whole fucking body for that matter.

The driver an enormous black woman with skin the color of brownies eyed me up and down. She spoke in a baritone voice revealing perfect white teeth.

"Am I am gonna have any trouble out of you?"

"No ma’am"

I walked to the open seat sat down, and shut my eyes.

They didn’t open again until we were crossing the bridge into the city—I couldn’t see shit. People were pointing at Alcatraz and the pointy building that marks San Francisco’s skyline but for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes off the giant cargo cranes across the bay.

Some fucker I dated told me he made $75 bucks an hour operating those Tonka toys.

As the bus pulled into San Francisco, I realized I needed someplace to stay—and quick. It was nearly nine and that shit I took in Sacramento was making me feel like damn retard.
I limped out to Mission street where the waiting cab drivers ignored me. I got into one without asking. The asshole got in and asked me if I had any money.

Did I have any money? Good question. That crazy old lady had shoved nearly six grand into my hands. It was burning a hole in my pocket—not because I had a need for material bullshit but because it made me feel like I had to be responsible.

I flipped a twenty over the seat of the cab.

"Take me to the nearest, cheapest, clean, hotel."

The driver started up the car drove exactly four blocks to a Days Inn Motel. The asshole didn’t even offer change.

"Keep the change." I flipped him off but he drove off without looking.

I stepped inside of the lobby and was greeted by a bored, pimply faced pot head. There was so much grease on his face I could fry with it.

"May I help you?"

"I need a room."

"Single occupancy?"

"Do you see anyone else?"

"How will you be paying?"

"Cash"

"You need to put down a credit card."

"Up front"

He looked suspicious.

"We aren’t supposed to do that."

"Who is we? I don’t see anyone else."

"How many nights"

"One for now."

"$100 dollars."

"Fuck off." I turned to walk out.

"Ok fine, you blow me and I will give you the state rate."

I smirked, then reached down like I was going to tie my shoe. I felt the knife in my boot with the tips of my fingers, then thought better of it.

"Maybe next time kid." I smiled my best fake smile.

I turned to walk out.

"Wait"

"You can have the room for $49, just give me twenty bucks for a dime bag."

I handed over the cash he gave me one of those credit card keys.

My room was a shit hole on the first floor, I had to walk outside to get to it. There was homeless man puking up his guts, leaning up against the wall. He made the whole area around him smell like bile and cheap wine. I opened the door to my room, it was the size of postage stamp and had a single bed clearly not made for a 20th century adult.

I collapsed on it. I dreamt of that bitch that cost me my job. The asshole clerk and the cop in Sacramento, he was kind of cute. Kind of.

Nowhere to go but forward.

2005-02-18T15:30:00.000-08:00

Hell I had already hit rock bottom, there was no way to go but up. My other choice was death or jail, which as far as I am concerned was worse than death. Greyhound leaves every hour on the hour, I scanned the schedule board waiting for something to jump out.

San Francisco

If you ask me it was full of freaks and vegetarians, I shouldn’t stick out too bad.

24 dollars later I was tucked into a window seat pretending to be asleep. I should have bought some fuckin headphones. A little girl, about fourteen was making her way down the aisle toward me her belly hanging over her low riding pants. I could smell her damn bubble gum from where I was sitting.

Jesus

She sat down and started pulling things out a pink Hello Kitty backpack. A cellphone, a magazine, some more fucking gum. She dialed the phone and damned if she didn’t start talking, and keep talking for an hour straight. I yelled at the bus driver.

"Hey! Isn’t there a no God damn phone rule."

He looked at me in the rearview mirror. The little bitch pouted with her smelly purple glitter gloss then rolled her eyes.

Just outside of Sacramento I pulled my knife out and started cleaning my nails. That shut her up. I had a half an hour to eat and get back on the bus, but I needed to score. It wouldn’t be too hard, there was shit for food, Burger King and some damn bar that was closed.

I kept my eyes open for a dealer and pulled out a cigarette. Three puffs in, a man with a stick up ass walked over, swiped my half eaten food into a garbage can that he was carrying and told me to get out.

I did, after blowing smoke in his face. He started to grab my arm, and thought better of it. I walked outside still keeping and eye out for my score.

It wasn’t far off. Across the street I found a meth head with some Percocet he stole from his grandma. Two pills, a couple of drags on his joint and a 1/5 of Vodka later I climbed back on the bus with a mouth full of gum and promptly passed out.

"Domestic report at 1711 N Street, return"

"Copy that, car 67 in route"

"Proceed with caution, weapon not known wait for backup"

Somewhere in my haze I knew something wasn’t right. When the realization struck my heart started pounding so hard that it took all of my control not to kick out and scream. I slowly opened my eyes rubbing them.

I saw the officer standing before me his hand on his gun, another not far away. Where the fuck was I?

I looked around, still on the bus. We must a pulled in and they couldn’t wake me up. Jesus it was fucking dark already.

I stretched and did a girly little squirm sticking my unbound breasts out.

"What time is it?"

"6:30", the officer answered.

"I must have fallen asleep."

"Must have." he looked smug

I stood up grabbing my jacket. The officer held his hand out for me to stop.

"What are you doing here?"

I tried to look confused, hell it wasn’t hard I was confused.

"I bought a ticket." I pulled it out of my back pocket.

The officer took it and looked at it.

"Ma’am, this bus is scheduled for maintenance, you’re still in Sacramento."

"Fuck!"I said outloud

"Ma’am, do you have any identification."

"Shit" I kept that one to myself.

A Boy Named Sue

2005-02-18T11:51:00.000-08:00

The old lady made several winding turns through hopeless housewives and belligerent drunks. Bells sounded, coins dropped and I wanted a whiskey sour more than I wanted to see what the bat was up to. I sat down at the closest bar and watched the old lady continue on. Her pink feathers fluttering with her jerky little stride.

When I couldn’t see her anymore I turned to the bartender who nodded at me and continued to empty ashtrays. Then he took his sweet fucking time wiping down the bar before taking my order. When he set the drink on the counter I sniffed, it was barely bigger than a shot glass. I knocked it back unceremoniously and held up my fingers for two more. I made short work of them and decided it was time to be on my way.

I lit a stolen cigarette and was about to slid off the chair when the old lady suddenly appeared next to me. She was holding a wad of cash.

"Where did you go honey?"It may as well have been the fucking hope diamond, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. It damn near sparkled as she held it out to me.

She smiled, "take it sweetie."

Sonofabitch—I wanted to snatch it run. My eyes glazed over with need before I snapped myself back. She was setting me up, as soon as I pulled it from her fingers the old cow would probably scream bloody murder."

No thanks" I muttered and started to walk away.She grabbed my arm."Look honey" her voice got two octaves deeper."I laid on my back for 15 years before a Johnny cleaned me up and took me home. He was the biggest ass in the world thinking he could make a whore a wife—but I loved him for it. I have two kids that won’t talk to me, and grandkids I have never seen. So you take the money."

She pressed it into my hand and squeezed so hard I thought her bones would break. The old lady walked away before I could say anything. I looked at the wad in my hands and shoved in my pocket.

I followed her path until she turned a corner and I could no longer see her feather cap.
Johnny Cash was suddenly in my ear, telling me I needed to move on. —I needed to get the hell out of Reno.

At Wal-Mart I bought two cheeseburgers at, a pair of jeans a wife beater that fit, a long sleeved shirt, a jacket, 2 tubes of lip gloss and the blackest mascara I could find.

I made my way back to the hound, I needed to get lost for a few weeks, find a job and pray that Wyoming didn’t catch up to me. Where to?

The Old Lady and The Silver Legacy

2005-02-11T11:51:00.000-08:00

Sometime early this morning we pulled into Reno. It felt like a cat had taken a piss in my mouth and my shirt smelled like rancid meat. The jeans I had stolen from the launder care had somehow become covered in black grease and sagged to my hip bones exposing four inches of my belly, which was currently very empty. I had fucked my way into the motel room I was currently in, a long way from the strip in Sparks—the rooms current occupant was snoring on floor. The asshole said I stunk.

I kicked my feet up over the side of the bed deciding to risk a shower, I soaped up profusely then watched the gray water swirl around my feet. The cheap motel soap was no match for my scum and was nothing more than a lump the size of a quarter when I was done. I left it to the drain with the rest of my funk.

Haphazardly drying off my hair I walked naked through the room until I found assholes suitcase, pulling out a pair of chinos, tidy whiteys and a wife beater. Jesus I hope this bastard didn’t have anything contagious—I pulled on the briefs and clothes and slid back into my boots. After tucking my blade back, I pulled 67 bucks (that’s all he had) out the wallet laying on nightstand, and took the pack of Marlboro lights and bic laying next to it.

Slipping out of the room, I lit up and realized that these ugly ass pants were a serious disability. I rolled them up until the middle parts of my boots were exposed and kept walking. Taking a deep drag of the Marlboro I filtered the smoke out slowly through my nose—it burned like hell but it reminded me to keep going. I needed money, I needed food and I needed to get the hell out of Nevada.

It wasn’t long before I found myself back at a city bus stop. When the bus pulled up the driver eyed me, staring a little to long at my chinos. My fingers itched to punch him.

"How do I get to the strip?" I asked shifting my weight uncomfortably—like I always do when someone stares at me too long.

The fucker licked his lips then replied, "I’ll get you there."

I thrust a buck into his machine then sat down in the middle of the bus. An old lady with a pink knit hat with feathers in it stared at me, it was 75 degrees and she was wearing a sweater. Her wrinkled lips were pursed, exaggerating the red lipstick that already bled into the cracks around her mouth.

She clutched her white leather pocketbook—as if. I stared back and was about to tell her to mind her damn business when she suddenly spoke.

"Do you need help honey?" she said in shakey voice.

I stared back skeptically.

My hair was dripping on my shoulders I brushed if off leaving glistening streaks on each shoulder, I caught the drivers eye in his review mirror, and flipped off as he licked his upper lip again.

The woman was still staring at me waiting for an answer. Could I really take advantage of a granny.

"I can help you" she sad. Her lips curling around yellow crooked teeth that I knew were her own.
"How?" I jutted my chin and gave her my best who the hell are you look.
She smiled.

Thirty-Five minutes later I found myself following the old lady through The Silver Legacy.

2005-02-10T15:28:00.000-08:00

This isn't me, but it's how I felt.

Somewhere in Texas

2005-02-10T15:18:00.000-08:00

You’re not going to believe this shit—four days into my new job and I already got my dumb ass fired. Hell, that’s a record even for me. Now you don’t know me yet but I don’t have the best of luck and this latest incident just more proof. So you ask, why did I get fired?

Because some dick sucking whore was too good at not doing her job. All I wanted was a goddamn broom, instead I got the whites of his eyes and her big hair bouncing up and down.

Wrong place, wrong time.

So how bout it? Are you assholes ready to play? I don't think you are ready, because if you want my story you can't have a weak stomach or a faint heart because it sure as hell ain't pretty.

Still here? Then read on…

Two weeks ago outside of Cheyenne I got put into the tank. Drunk offmy ass again, I decorated the stupid Pigs' uniform with vomit. (For the purpose of this entry we will call him CHUCK). Bastard thinks he's Native his mama is nothin' but poor white trash. Good thing I threw up on him because if I hadn't I would have really been in trouble.

Muthafuckin pork rind bastard.

Anyway back to reality, there I was ratcheted down tight. They through me on the bed without bothering to book in me on any charges. Hell, I hadn’t done anything except rearranged some bitches face. Dumb cunt thought she was cute trying to steal my action.

Back to the drunk tank.

I was passed out when they put this big barrel chested mutha fucker in with me. Next thing I know Bubba is trying to make me a bitch. Dumb pigs didn't bother to search my Levi’s so Bubba got it in the neck with the Kersaw 4 inch. I slipped out in all the commotion.

Won't be going back to Cheyenne anytime soon. (by the way that fat mutha fucka lived-I didn't kill the asshole) I did the only thing I could do then stole some cloths from the 24 Hour Launder Care and headed to the on over to the Depot to catch the Hound.I slept for two hours, woke up in Tulsa, don't remember what fucking bus I got on but I knew I wasn't far enough from Cheyenne. Next time I woke up we were in Dallas. HELL no you think their some bastard hicks in Wyoming? Texas will set you straight on that front.