Something I started the other day.

[colmatrix]

Any thoughts or criticism? I don't write a lot but it's something I've always wanted to do...this is the first thing I've written in years and I haven't invested much time or effort so feel free to shred me! :0

What a way to wake up on a weekend Eyes glued together, blinding light cascading in past hair and scum. He moved to clear it with his hand and was met with a headache like an avalanche, the slightest movement and he knew he was doomed for pain. Jon Rocco coughed and reached for a bottle of water but grabbed an empty beer filled with cigarette butts and drank. Reality snapped him from his stupor as he gagged and spewed. Rocco had gone out for a few beers with coworkers the previous night, the few turned to dozens after a few hours. He tried remembering how he got home and what he had done the night before. Whatever happened, his damn hands hurt like hell and his head throbbed as if it had been hit with a hammer.

He slunk over to the mirror in the drab bathroom in his stamp-sized apartment. He gasped when he saw how red his face and shirt were, and cringed at how bad his face looked. What the hell happened? Jon was a thug, and everyone that knew him knew that he knew it. Not the kind you see in rap videos, rather the kind you don’t want to see in a dark alley even with a few of your friends. He loomed over six feet tall, with massive shoulders and a head and face that only a mother could love, if only he had one. Jon had always been a bully; he had a father that liked to pound on him after pounding beers. Jon took out his aggression on the weak, the small, the girls even jumped out of his way in school as to not offend Rocco the human Socco. Now he was a twenty-six year old busboy with bills, broken hands and a hangover that would make Banaducci jealous.

He fumbled around his shirt, pants, all kinds of scattered mess and trash surrounding his bed. He kicked a beer bottle and stubbed his toe, cursing and kicking things around. Pissed as all hell, he bent down and peered under his futon and saw it. Not his phone, but a wad of hundreds three inches thick. Jon squealed and couldn’t believe his eyes. He racked his broken brain for any details from the night before, but was met by a giant hazy curtain like the ones on Broadway right before the actors come out and take their final bows. Nothing seemed clear at all after going to Fam’s right after closing down Chilies restaurant, where Jon bussed tables. He remember overhearing that a couple of the waitresses were meeting up at his local dive, and looked forward with great zeal at the night ahead at Fam’s. Why were the hot waitresses at his bar? He barely remembered seeing one of them there. He was jealous of the money the waiters and bartenders made, them being kids and all and Jon being 26. He resented them being more successful than he was at their age, yet he couldn’t help but smile whenever one of the girls paid him any attention. One girl even once called him cute, an event he played over and over in his head, but she was just a customer and he never saw her again. Then there was always Jill, who he had caught out of the corner of his eye staring at him on more than one occasion.


With the stack of cash in his hand he felt strong, but he was no fool. Jon knew that it had to have come from the mysterious stranger, the cause of his bloody clothes and swollen hands. Jon knew that whoever he had encountered the night before packed quite a wallop, and he gripped the wad of cash even tighter. Whatever he did from this point on, he would proceed with caution. He would find out how he got the money but also try to keep it in the process. He had to find his phone.


The Night Before

When Sally Taylor walked into a bar like Fam’s, heads turned. She was a stunning nineteen year old blonde with tight jeans and an even tighter white t-shirt that highlighted her firm young body. She brushed her way past the door guy who was supposed to check her ID, and he watched her leave without so much as a second thought. Wouldn’t have mattered, fakes were easier to buy than beer these days. The bartender pretended not to watch her slink her way over to the bar past the drunks’ playing cards at the dinner tables. She dropped her small green purse and cell phone onto the bar-top and smiled slightly at Hank, the nightly keep.

“Can I please have an apple martini, with some cherries?” she asked, and he tried to keep his eyes above her neck. He fixed the drink and wondered why a girl like her would enter a bar like Fam’s, because the name hardly suited the un-family-friendly atmosphere.

“Hon, if you don’t mind me asking, what is a pretty young girl like yourself doing in a dump like this?” he asked her.

“I’m waiting for my friend, she works down at Chilies and we’re supposed to meet up here for drinks. She should actually be here by now,” she looked to the door hoping her friend Jill would come in.

Sally just graduated as best friends with Jill the year before. While Sally had gone off to school, Jill had gone to work at Chilies and had gotten hooked on the easy cash, fun people, and late nights. This is probably one of MANY nights here at Fam’s for Jill, she thought. Jill had been a bad influence on her in high school, and she usually followed Jill’s lead. It was at Jill’s when she drank her first beer, at Jill’s when she kissed her first boy, and at Jill’s when Jill tried to kill herself. Sally sighed and tried to think of reasons they were ever friends in the first place, as she sipped her free martini. Another perk of being a knock-out gorgeous girl. Jill had always brought out the worse in Sal, and in a way that excited Sal and brought her places she had never been. Places she never wanted to go to again. She sipped and thought that this might be the last time I can hang with my old friend Jill.

[colmatrix]

At Chilies

Jill Taylor was in need of a savior. Her rent was two months late, her credit card companies were sending agents in the night, and she had a drug and alcohol habit that wiped any cash she might make serving tables. She could not wait until work was over, because tonight she was calling in the biggest favor she could ask of an old friend. She planned on asking her old friend Jess to borrow some three-thousand dollars, Sally’s dad was a rich old bastard. Jill had been insanely jealous of her friend Sally. Sally with the big house. Sally with the Barbie-doll looks. Sally with the mom and dad that loved her. Sally was going to give her money tonight. The only problem was that Sally didn’t know it yet.

Jill looked over at him, hulking over a table stacking dishes and wiping up spilled food. He was massive, and she couldn’t help but get sort of excited when she watched him. He looked back at her and she scowled. Never did she act on her weak impulses, most of the time she was not attracted. He wasn’t a monster, but he was no Brad Pitt to be sure. He was kind of dumb, he never laughed at any of her jokes. She didn’t even know his name, but if she were ever going to land that hot bartender in his 20’s, she wouldn’t be seen dead with the old table-busser. She almost had a heart attack when he turned and starting walking straight toward her. She looked down at the touch-screen for placing food orders and pretended to be hard at work. He walked right up and asked if she wanted to get a drink after work.

She laughed and said, “I don’t think so dude,” and he retreated with his head lowered. She could not believe he had the nerve to walk up in front of Paul the bartender and freak out like he did. Didn’t he know that he was not to approach her, that he was a lower species in her eyes? In high school, the National Guard would have been notified if he had approached her in front of her cool friends. He just didn’t understand how things work, she thought. Why couldn’t he just go somewhere and DIE? He turned the corner into the kitchen and Jill scanned her surroundings, eyes carefully peeled for possible witnesses to her embarrassing encounter with the big guy. She saw no one of importance, and felt a wave of guilt flood over her. Who was she to act any better than him? Jill had shared her fair share of debauchery, and had come to terms with being a second-class human being. She decided then and there to find the huge busser somewhere in a secluded corner, where no one could see, and invite him to come with her to the shitty bar down the street after work. With what she had planned, she could use some backup.

At the Bar Fam’s
Jon walked into Fam’s closely behind Jill, careful to keep as close to her as humanly possible out of fear of her her vanishing .
He had a small heart-attack when she came to him near the dish room and asked him to Fam’s. He wondered if she was playing some kind of practical joke on him, but low and behold after work she was waiting for him in the parking lot. She sat back on his green Jeep, cigarette in hand.

“What took you so long?” she had harped, smiled at him through a haze of smoke behind which laid a deadpan smile with black lipstick.
He looked at her as she laid back on his ride with her work-shirt slung over her bare shoulder. She wore a tight men’s sleeveless under-T, and he wished he could see her from behind with her tight black pants. Sometimes he would pass his time between bussing tables staring at the various women and girls at his job, imagining all different types of deviant acts with them. Sometimes they would catch him and he would quickly divert his eyes, making believe he was staring at the walls.
“Just had to finish a few tables,” he replied. He wondered if she was toying with him, and asked her if she had ever been to Fam’s, or had heard that he frequented the place. She said that she was meeting an old friend and needed to call in a favor, and she needed someone to play her boyfriend for the night. He jumped at the chance, he had never really had a real girlfriend and this seemed like a step in the right direction. What kind of a favor, he asked her, and she told him that she was due and it was time to for her friend to pay up. Jon figured that worked to his advantage, him being broke and all, so he made sure to keep extra-close as the made their way to the bar together.
“Sally!” Jill cried.

The next day
Jon waited out in front of the old bus-stop bench, avoiding the smelly man entering old age with an eternal hangover. Fam’s would be the best place to find out any clues from the night before, and since he was on the search for his cell-phone he decided to pay the old dive a visit. Five Tylenol, a shower, and two beers did little to alleviate his throbbing head. His hands had to have been broken, they ached and he needed to take care of them. It would have to wait until after he found his phone.
The bus arrived and he found a seat next to a pretty young latino woman, who immediately got up and moved to another empty seat. Screw her. He leaned back and closed his eyes, and suddenly he could see behind the Broadway curtain. He saw Jill from work, the girl he had wanted to ask out for ages, and she was crying. He opened his eyes to a flash of light that he imagined what looking at a nuke would feel like, and closed them again trying to see more of the play from last night. She was gone, the memory faded. He tried to remember if she had been there the night before, and again drew a blank. I’ve had some hangovers before, but this one takes the cake, he thought. Usually he could remember something. He looked down at his hands and decided to visit a hospital as soon as he found his phone. What Jon didn’t know was that his phone was already at the hospital. He had been there the night before.


At Fam’s (Night Before)
Jon tried to listen to Jill as she sat to his right at the bar talking with Sally. He sipped his beer quickly and tried again to thank his lucky stars. Here he was, drinking beers with his crush at work Jill, providing backup to her devious plans. She could have asked anyone to help her, but she asked him. Even Sally had smiled at him at first, to which his heart sunk and he fell in love for the millionth time. He tried not to think of high school, when the only time he could drink with women was if The Facts of Life was on TV as he slurped down his dad’s discount beers. If he was supposed to be her boyfriend for the night, the least she could do is acknowledge he was there. Soon after arrival and quick introductions, Jill started catching up with her old pal Sally. Jill acted like he didn’t exist.

Five beers in, compared to their two, Jon noticed the call of nature and went to relieve himself. Glancing back at his two ladies of the night, he saw Sally get out of her seat. She was animated, yelling at Jill, he thought he heard the word “beggar” mentioned. Tired of his fake-boyfriend duties, he walked into the bathroom and unzipped. Staring at the wall as he did his business, then two men entered the bathroom high on Millers and practically yelling. Maybe they both had hearing problems, Jon thought. Too loud. Hurry so I can get back to Jill.

“I am telling you, the hot one wants me. She bought me my last beer!
When does a bitch ever do that?” the short guy in cutoff jeans muttered.

“You can have her, I want the goth-chick anyways. She’s got a fat ass,” the chunky guy with the military haircut replied.

Jon, never one to let anyone disrespect him or anyone associated with him, whether they knew they were or not, took great offense to their words and spun to greet them. The small one with the 1980’s style jeans glared at him and asked Jon what he was looking at. Jon’s answer was a beer bottle to the guy’s nose, glass smattering in fragments across the room and into flesh and bone. Blinded, he fell back into a sink and knocked it free from the wall, even though a sneeze could have done the same thing to the ancient fixture. Water sloshed onto the face of the guy, spreading blood and glass across the floor in a small river.

Guy number two looked at his friend dumbfounded, should have paid better attention to the giant angry guy in the room. Jon rushed at him and heaved his body into the poor sap and they busted into the toilet stall as two football players crashing to the ground would. Jon got the better of the deal while the guy underneath landed with a loud thud. Jon sat on top as the guy tried to wrestle out of underneath, and Jon pounded with his fists. He threw so many punches that his hands bled, he looked down at the mess he just made. The guy’s face was mush, he whistled and spit blood with his eyes closed, more like swollen shut.
Shouldn’t have talked about his girls like that like that.

Jill

Jill sat in her chair with tears smearing black mascara all down her pale cheeks. Her old pal Sally laughed in her face when she finally gathered the courage to ask for her for the loan. Jill had never been so embarrassed in her life, she looked behind for the busboy and saw an empty chair. Some help he was. Sally said that she had heard stories about Jill, how she had a drug problem, how she never had money. Moms try to share only the best about their daughters, yet they love to share gossip about other people’s daughters. Apparently Sally’s mom had finally won. Sally didn’t listen to her before when she was warned that Jill was a bad influence. Jill tried to maintain control of herself, but she gave into rage and spat in Sally’s face. Sally screamed at tried to throw her drink at Jill, but Jill dodged it and it splashed onto Jon’s empty seat. Jill raised her fist and Sally screamed and turned for the door. She ran out, didn’t look back. Jill was furious, at Sally, at that dick-head Jon who disappeared, and at herself for making things so complicated. She went outside and saw Sally fumbling with her keys, and watched as she dropped them to the ground. That bitch. Jill ran toward her and Sally panicked. She reached into her pocket and grabbed a small bottle of mace and sprayed. Jill screeched and grabbed her face, and Sally grabbed her keys from the ground and hurried into her car. Through a haze of fire and anger Jill cried; she was lonely and too scared to live a moment longer.

Jon

He knew he needed to get out of there, and in a hurry. He ran over to the bar and saw that the girls had left. He asked the bartender where they went and saw him shrug. The small green purse lay on the bar, and Jon snatched it. He wanted to skip town, trouble was around the corner because of what he had done in the bathroom. He slipped out of the back entrance and made his way to Jill’s car. She wasn’t near it, but Jon saw an elderly biker-couple talking like there was a secret only they were in on. He asked if they’d seen her, gave them a description. They said that she had been sprayed with mace, and a nearby police-officer had given her a ride to the hospital down the street. He looked down at the purse and opened it, and his jaw dropped. He thanked them and strolled towards the hospital. Looking behind him he noticed a couple of punks kids, maybe eighteen, following behind him. He thought he remembered seeing one of them in the bar.

“Hey,” one of them called to him. “We saw you in there. Where do you think you’re going?”

Jon turned and walked faster. He wanted to get to the hospital and find Jill, but now he was being followed by two witnesses to his destructive side. Jill would have to wait. He turned a corner on to a side street lined with cheap homes, most of the lights out and people sleeping at that time of night. Maybe I can scare them away, Jon thought.

“If you don’t help us, we are gonna report you!”

Jon stopped in his tracks. His whole life he couldn’t remember a time where there wasn’t some kind of impending doom spelled out before him. There were always fists and words and looks cast his way, and he was tired of it. It would end here and now.

[colmatrix]

Wow, I feel kind of like Pam from the office when no one showed up to her art show. I should have followed George McFly's advice...

[neglet]

Number one, you don't have paragraph breaks, so it's hard to read without making my brain hurt. Number two, I'm peeved you didn't put this in the Mania Literary Corner, but in this newfangled new forum.

[colmatrix]

I fixed the paragraph thing, it was set up nice in Word but the transfer didn't help. As far as this forum, it's actually an episode of The X-Files so back off. Just kidding, my bad.

[Jakester]

<whistles>