Hey there little girl...

Where you been running to so fast? Don't you know you'll always end up back down here where you came from? We know you, we own you, you owe us. Hey little girl, cut out that big dreaming. Cut out those heavy sighs. Cut out your tongue and cut off your hair. Hey little girl, you aren't going anywhere.

Natalie, pt. 1

Natalie. Rapture. Ecstasy, Envy, Anxiety... All the same thing really. Natalie. Good grief.

We kissed!

She left me a note at work. A note on a yellow post-it in a plain white envelope, with a hand-made Colombian bracelet also inside. She said she had thought of me a lot while she way gone and hoped I liked her small gift. No small gift as far as I'm concerned. She thought of me enough while she was away to buy me a present... One might say I swooned.

Then today, two days later, she went again into my store, hoping to see me there. She has no phone so after coming back stateside her best bet was to see me at work, you see. For the second time I wasn't working when she stopped by. Caron though--bless her--gave Natalie her phone with my number dialing! She asked when I called when she might be able, 'to see that beautiful face'. 'You're at the store?' I asked, 'I'll be there in five minutes.'

I got there, she sat on the ledge outside the store, smoking a cigarette and smiling, despite herself it seemed, when I pulled up. We talked for really only a moment before I decided to invite her to a party I knew a friend was having. Her eyes brightened and she hopped in her car to follow me there.

Turns out she knows many of my friends! She settles right in to the gathering and we interact as equal parts of a group for a while. The party starts to break up, and we both get in my car to take a friend of mine home. She sits in the back and says little until we drop him off and she's in the front with me. On the way back to her car we talk about our childhoods, difficulty 'fitting in', and love of people despite their faults. She places her hand on my thigh when I reassure her she is beautiful, fuck what people may think.

We arrive back at the party house, now dark and quiet. She gets out of the car and I follow, making some lame joke about walking her those dangerous 15 feet to her door. She seems reluctant to leave right away so we talk, smoke a cigarette, talk. I find it very easy to laugh with Natalie, to be ridiculous and say whatever may come to mind... It feels so much like falling, this care-free converse with this gorgeous Colombian girl.

Finally, after smoking one more bowl in my car, she tells me that she should let me go. It's almost 2 am. She calls me 'mama' in that adorable Latin accent. I again walk her to her car. We saunter, sidebyside, to her door. She opens the door. She turns wide, dark eyes toward me, and seems to dare me with them. Daring me to touch her cheek, to close the small distance between us with a step, to brush my lips against hers... I smile at her and she caves just a little, closing the distance herself. I put my arms around her shoulders, around her hips. I fight the urge to pull her into me, instead forcing all of the fervor being so close to her made me feel into my lips as I pressed them solidly against hers. I feel her inhale deeply, feel the tip of her tongue probing gently against my lips. I part them slowly and deepen our kiss, thrilling as Natalie's body stiffens slightly in my embrace...

And then, as suddenly as she had overtaken me--mind, body, and soul--her lips left mine and her hips slowly edged away from my own. I looked again into those dark, soulfull eyes and supressed a whimper at the realization that it was time to bid adiou. I smiled, and as she blushed and turned her face away I kissed her cheek and promised I would see her soon.

She got in her car and pulled away as I composed myself for my own drive home.

She may just be the death of me...
But! I can think of no sweeter end!

I don't want to forget a detail, pt 2

(this is where it gets dirty)

sadly, duty calls and I'm scheduled back at work. will finish recounting the night's events soon.

I don't want to forget a detail, pt 1

Dave is a regular customer at my store. He comes by almost every day during the week. Usual purchases are three or four Beck's tallboys since we only carry them single, or sometimes Corona Extra and some limes. Always a Honey Sport Duchmaster cigar too.

Dave is probably about 30 years old--ten years my senior. He is decidedly short, probably only 5'7", medium brown hair, and at the moment a week-old shadow that's shaping into a becoming and well-trimmed beard. He is tan, subtly muscular, has dark eyes and perfect teeth. He is married and has a 4 year-old son whose name I cannot remember. Tonight he's wearing a dark blue sleeveless t-shirt, cargo shorts, and I assume, sandals.

He is next in a short line, and I decide to pretend not to notice him and see if he will go to Caron's register if I time it right. Caron finishes with her customer, smiles at Dave and gestures him over. He smiles, quickly shakes his head no and looks over at me. Caron shrugs, and takes the next customer in line. I still don't provide any hint that I've noticed his presence at all--making a point not to look at him--finish making change for my customer, and send her on her way.

Dave approaches the counter, beaming, smiling with all of his teeth, when I turn my eyes to him. I can't help the broad grin that spreads across my face in pleasant (mock) surprise. My cheeks flush and I have to look away, look down to him sliding a pack of gum across the counter. No beer, no snacks, just the pack of gum. We make the usual flirtatious small talk--How are you tonight?--and ring up his purchase. I bait him, "Did you really come all the way here just for a pack of gum?" expecting the chuckling, "Oh no darlin', I just came to see you" response. Dave however takes a smiling, but serious and hushed tone and says "Actually, I came to talk to you. You got a minute?".

I tilt my head and narrow my smile at him, "Umm... Yeah. I can step outside for a minute, right Caron?" She nods and waves me away. Dave turns and walks out the door, I drop my recently acquired $20 bills in the safe, sign off of my register, and follow him outside moments later. I see him sitting in his white company pickup truck, the door open and the dome light on. I have to walk around the front of the vehicle and the door to come face to questioning face with him. "What's up?" I ask, nonchalantly.

Dave, who has been drinking for a few hours and is probably baked, takes a deep breath and slowly looks from me to some distant point in space and then back again. He smiles that smile and slowly asks me,"Can I call you some time?".

I'm speechless, astonished, and blushing furiously. I take a physical step backwards and stammer for a moment while he just keeps smiling, eyeing me. "Uh... um... y-yes? Yes. You can." I step closer, regain some faculties. "Wait, um... Aren't you like, married?"

His turn to look slightly uncomfortable, if only for a second. "Well... I'm ah, going through a rough time. But yeah, I am married. I just, I see you in here every day, always smiling and happy to see me. You're just the sweetest, hottest little thing and... I mean, I won't lie to you, I am married and wouldn't want to hurt you, just..." He focuses suddenly, looks me in the eyes. "I'd like to show you a night you'll never forget."

I take an involuntarily quick, deep breath as those words physically impact my body. My heart pounds, I lean closer to him without meaning to. He senses this and without warning slides his hand around the nape of my neck and brings my lips to his. He tastes like weed smoke and sweet mint, and his body stiffens slightly as I let myself fall into his kiss. He deepens the gesture with his other hand on the small of my back, pulling me close to his body and into the truck, his tongue caressing mine.

I pull away slightly, my hand on his cheek, and I must have a look of supreme and ecstatic surprise on my face. He smiles and says, "Wow your lips are sexy." I giggle, almost sigh the words "Thank you" and his lips are on mine again. His second kiss is faster, probing, carnal. His grip tightens on my hip and neck, I run my fingers through the hair at the base of his skull and whimper as he finds my tongue ring and sucks playfully at it. He releases his hold slowly and I retreat a step or two, almost stumbling. My head is buzzing, my entire body flushed and aroused.

He looks at me for a moment, I put my hand to my head and let out a small laugh at the absurdity of this scene. "So, can I call you some time?" he asks again. "Sure," I smile at him, "Yes, you can. Do you have my number?" He reaches for a pen and I use the opportunity to take in his body, the smooth tan skin, the clearly muscular torso. It actually takes me a second to remember my phone number. He laughs at me and asks what time I get off work. "Ten, scheduled off at ten. Should be out of here before 10:45." "All right, I'll call you" and again with that bright smile. "Better get back inside before she thinks I kidnapped you."

I nod, still not able to fully comprehend what has just transpired, and turn to walk back to the store. My face must give me away because Caron takes one look at me and asks, "What the hell did he say??" I just smile at her, bite my bottom lip a little. "Wouldn't you like to know..."

I couldn't even look at him for fear I'd have to say goodbye.

New clothes. Job interview, after job interview, after job interview. Two were door-to-door sales in the sweaty summer heat. I didn't last and wouldn't want to. One was confused about the difference between "hiring" and "accepting applications". I sorted it out for them and they asked me to leave. Despite my recent track record, it seems I'm completely capable of being a bitch. Just never when it benefits me.



We aren't moving in together. It's simple now, and doesn't upset me but when it all came out I was... broken? disappointed? terrified that what I'd been waiting for, had seemed to finally catch and cage and keep was slipping through my fingers again? His roots are slowly coming free of the Florida soil, one by one. Some he pulls, some come willingly. I felt I was one of the largest of the life-giving tendrils keeping him stuck in the sand but it turns out I was wrong. Imagine that. I didn't think he'd leave without me, not now, not after... After what? After all we've been through? We've been through one other's lives, the daily up and down. All of the 'trials and tribulations' that have brought us close have only been us subjecting one another to one another. He says he'll only be gone a month, maybe two. I know that is for now, I know he's going to see people (who is Leigh Ann? Why does she miss him?) and meet people and forge connections he can come back to later when he wants to relocate North.

No one ever became a great tattoo artist sitting in their home town, inking the scumbags and beach bums. I know that, because he told me. The only thing I want more than to see him do this, see his long hours and frustration pay off and his name in the proverbial lights, is to be there with him. Not by his side, I don't expect or even really want to be in the spotlight too. But behind him. Making his life easier. Making the pain he feels at having to deal with people less, making his work art.

I get the feeling I will end up a memory. A fond one, but in the past nonetheless.

He puts his work first. I should do the same and finish school. I know I should. I know I can. I know it will break my heart.


"On Your Shore"--Sarachmet

Drunken angry slur, in 31 flavors

I am no better at Jarrod than I was at Eric. It's slowly slipping into the same battered routine of drink-banter-pout-cry-run-cry-apologize. Eric put up with me out of fear and because it was easier than dealing with the mess of pulling our lives apart. But Jarrod and I are in the process of putting our lives together. He will not stand for my failings, nor sit or even stick around. I want him and this and and "us" so badly that I often fail to see that I already have it, we already have it. It needs to be built and tended, and I have so very much to learn... But even just my realizations of this seem like a step, seem like a move in the right direction. I want to share with him the fact that I want to share with him, but the words always come out self-deprecating and apologetic. I'm terrified of him seeing me as weak and common, but if would just fucking think about it for a second I would realize that is not and never will be the case.

I need to let myself love him, and let him love me. I will not fuck this up.

Said the bachelor to the bride

Today's the day, today's the day, today's the day.

It it still early, I have not yet begun to waste the day in earnest. Only here and there, in small ways. I am still naked in my living room, typing, smoking cigarettes--but it is still early.

Jody left this morning, a few hours ago, a trip back home to the wild west for her high school reunion. Apartment to myself for four days, I get to play house with my two incompatible boys.

Just me and the monster today, until I head out in search of worthwhile(?) employment. I need to clean his room, my own, my car. He keeps chewing on my new feather duster, payback for his bath this morning I assume. He actually bared his little teeth at me, the jerk. The new collar is still too big, so he is stealthy today and bell-less.



Jarrod took me to the aquarium yesterday! Wouldn't stay for the penguin show--initially the entire motivation for going--which was supremely disappointing. He bought me ice cream and promised we would go again some day, but I contented myself with my chocolate cone and knew it wasn't true. I don't know why I can just accept things like that when it comes to him. We went back to the Meathouse and he seemed to want me gone so I gathered my things, only to have him shell-up like he does when I said goodbye. I never know when his signals are mixed or just murky--even after our long year--so I carried on leaving. Before I got too far though, he came out to my car, I'd forgotten my phone. I got it awkwardly out of him that he wanted me to stay, wanted to fuck, wanted to curl up next to me in the afternoon sun and nap.

We did just that.

He lifted my hair up when we were done and lying close and blew on the nape of my neck until I fell asleep. It's the small things.

We woke an hour and a half later and went grocery shopping at the Walmart Neighborhood Grocery in 'the hood'. I mostly just tagged along and did the talking--to him and anyone else it became necessary to speak with. Public places frustrate him. It was a learning experience for us both though. He learned that I pout when I feel useless or hindering, I learned he would rather just do things himself, with me smiling on his arm to distract him from how much he hates things like grocery shopping. It will take time, but I feel more and more like I could make a life with him.

He is serious about me moving in with him. About us finding a place, our place, to live and love and grow. He even caved on letting me keep the monster (in his own room, far away from our bed). I only get nervous that when he leaves he won't take me with him, but I have him now and I will try my best to focus on that. Still, it is hard to plan this future without saying how long it is intended to last. I know he wants to leave the sunshine state and seek his fortune elsewhere, and with that I know he will... But I am left wondering what I'll do when he's gone.

Still, that is a distant bridge to cross. Today is one year together and we're going to Boris at The Social to celebrate. Wouldn't it be nice if I could top it off with telling him I can quit the gas station because I've found another job? Wish me luck.

pigra goliath

Shifts in that place wear me out in a strange way. I find myself not really tired and not really irritated, but dull somehow. Blunted. {four long weeks down the drain} Uncreative.

The monster's new bell sounds different. Slightly disconcerting, the difference in pitch makes me pay attention to the noise. I would rather be alerted to his presence every time he moves than not at all or at the expense of his comfort.

Let's be lazy.

begin.

One more hour.
No, 59 minutes
more.

I was supposed to go apply for the job, come home and get the resume and make up and change my dress and walk in there and really-wow-them.

I created a blog instead.

He would not be pleased. Maybe I still have time... (57 minutes) He'll ask later and if I don't go, I will lie. Or risk that tone in his voice that makes me feel like a scolded child--makes me a scolded child. I should go, but I have so much to say.

The internet will wait I suppose, it has waited this long. What's another job application and 8-hour button-pushing shift between old friends. It will have to be enough to say that I want to tell you.

(54 minutes)