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Vignette--maybe I'll use it someplace later

Fiction Shorts




I was stuck in the cab of a pick up truck with a brother of a friend. We were driving down the road. He was driving and I was riding (Carlin thing) I'd only seen Waltz a few times before. He was polite among the family, but needed to vent that day and that time. I wasn't prepared.

I listened. The radio was on but he spoke above it. We'd been down five streets, maybe six, when I decided I didn't want to hear it any more. The poor dumb guy was not aware of sexism, or maybe he had the hots for me and this was his idea of foreplay. Actually, I think I decided to change the subject when it became foreplay in my head. I thought he wasn't bad looking at all, but perhaps a little young for my preference. Maybe I'd already fantasized about him. How long had I known him?

Well, he was with a chick, then he was living with his sister, then his girlfriend got pregnant, so they got married, total of perhaps six weeks, not the type to be tied down. He left off living with her shortly after the baby was born. She had good sense. I wouldn’t want him playing daddy, although he is one with a year old baby. He’s not the type capable of taking responsibility at all. One of those guys out there, and I find them too often in what I think is my dating pool, who has given his life to crack. What was it Whitney said? I guess I'd known him a year, off and on.

So anyhow, Waltz volunteers to drive me to the store to buy smokes, and somebody wanted beer, so the two of us went for a short ride.

Every other word out of his mouth was fuck, or it was about fucking.

"Fuckity fuck fuck fucking fuck hole shit on your fuckity fuck asshole fuck fucking, flipped off, my dick, for her to suck my dick ". . . (I don't think I can honestly put quotes with that entire wording, because there were some other words, but you know what I mean. Maybe it's an okay guy conversation thing. I try to keep up with dialects. I'd heard enough. I wondered if he knew any other words. He was looking more blonde and less attractive as our time together continued).

"It's been so long since I got some pussy I feel like my God damned balls are going to burst!" He gestured with his hands while he spoke, emphatically this time, his rump rising from the driver’s seat.

Six blocks is less than five minutes usually. This felt like an eternity. I felt uncomfortable, but being my friend's brother, I didn't want to totally destroy him. Usually I pull a "Dennis Miller" on them, so they never really know they were insulted. It's like not getting the joke, except in my deviant world my joke is on them)..

"I can handle this fucking conversation because I've spent enough time in my life around drinking construction workers, and there might be a time, heck, no, I couldn't beat your cussing. Beat it. Get it (a Dennis Miller thing--right over the top of his head). It took his brain time to process, I guess the blood was somewhere else, I paused a bit, and he got it. And no, I didn't look. I didn't think of that till just now. Isn't writing a wonderful process....

But today, you see, I'm playing the role of a fine Southern woman, you know, a cultured genteel lady, and if you could steer your conversation another direction it would make me just real happy"


He should have been fucking embarrassed, and if he ever re-ran that tape in his head, he might have been embarrassed. Maybe not. I can still play naive. I wasn't particularly in the mood to embarrASS him. I just wanted it to stop. It did immediately. No problem. No repercussions. It was fine after that. He was an understable messed up human. At some point he bummed a smoke. He doesn't buy cigarettes, he bums. His sister had warned me about Waltz and bummin' smokes.

Our trip to the store and back continued without another foul word being said. I asked and he complied. All I had to do was ask.

Different time, different circumstances, gallons of beer, it could have turned out different. Another time he'd offered to do construction work on my house and he was going to let me pay it out in labor. My labor for him that is. He was very exlpicit that he wouldn't charge me any green money, He didn't know how old I am. His mother is 77. I'm 57. He was still interested, but I told him, "No, thank you."

I haven't seen him much since. I don't have to wonder what he's doing. The only thing that changes is where. It's very sad. He's still pre-invervention if it could work.

So eventually he made his semi- crack brained advance to did we want to fuck, and he understood "no." I had a fantasy about it, after telling him no. I had a good enough time at my fantasy that I'm sure he would have wished he were there.

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