Bearshit

I ran into an old friend the other night. We used to be fairly good friends but we fell out of touch. I grew to become a different person than the way I was going and he grew up. It was purely by chance that I had run into him, along with his two younger brothers. We were all on those really high bicycles, the ones that sat 8 feet up, going down Venice Blvd. at sundown. Upon hearing his voice, I immediately recognized it to be his. After a few minutes of the usual, “how’ve you’ve been,” and “I’ve been good, et tu?” we decided to all grab drinks and go on a bender the rest of the night. I didn’t want to tell him I didn’t drink anymore, but I had to walk into one of those for old time’s sake traps. So we set about to drink like the bastards of tomorrow.

Then, that’s when things really started to get interesting. Before we realized, we had ridden too far off from our cars with those high bikes, and deemed it too troublesome to go back. I had no idea where we were but my buddy did. It was always much easier to faith in other things that claimed to have control of situations than to believe in oneself. So he says, turn left, I turn left, he says turn right, I go right. After what seemed like an eternity of him telling me what to do, which in actuality must’ve been 20 minutes, I decided to ask him where we were going. “We’re here.” he says. “Okay, how do we get down from here.” “Oh, just fall off of it.” “Seriously.” “Seriously. It’s what I did when I went in the shop for booze. It’s really not that high once you let go.” he said. Well, he seemed to make sense. He made sense when he said to turn left here and turn right here, I still had faith in him. So I let go of the handlebars fell back and landed on the softest green patch of grass I’d ever landed on. “Fucking aye, look at that. It really wasn’t that bad to just let go.”

“Where are we?” I asked.

“We’re at my friend Kelly’s.” he said

“Do I know her?”

“I think you met her once or twice. She’s real nice. Plus she isn’t home.”

“Alright, cool.”

We continued drinking till dawn. Drinking and laughing at the progress of our lives. Progress in life is comparative, who sets the norm? Another friend said that once except he was talking about insanity. Sometimes I can’t think of a good reason why anyone would try setting their lives up so that they could be comfortable when they got older. It’s inconsistent and it’s what most people want. I never believe the fucking masses, not anymore. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed for anyone. Then we heard keys jingling outside the door. I either pretended to pass out or play dead.

It was Kelly. I didn’t get a good look at her but her voice made her sound sexy. All the what the fucks and the how the hells, I don’t know what it is but angry women really got my dick tingling. Maybe because they seem so passionate. What I would give to feel passion again. What I would give to feel again. I was really hammered, so my thoughts usually dove into the metaphysical while cracking dirty jokes on innocent bystanders. Doesn’t everyone? Anyway, she was just surprised to find three semi middle aged dudes drinking with a fourth passed out or dead on her couch. While I was pretending, I got a chance to admire the color scheme of the place. True baby blue walls, white fuzzy carpets and a white ceiling, an beautiful large and out of place crystal chandelier. It reminded me of heaven or an apartment in heaven though I felt I had to play dead when the owner came home anyway, mostly just to dodge the awkward greeting conversations, but apparently we’d met once or twice before. She told us we had to leave because her boyfriend, Mike was coming home soon. I reanimated and started going for the door, grabbed the booze along the way, and felt a little cheated that I didn’t get a chance to come onto her. But I did have a good time and sometimes, that’s all you walk away from life with. In this case I was walking away from an apartment in heaven.

I don’t recall much of what happened next, only that I woke up at my apartment on the couch. My dog licking my eyeballs. I smacked him away to pick up the phone to call what’s his face from last night for the old morning recap. He picked up and said with wild enthusiasm, hey, I haven’t heard from you in years! I laughed it off thinking it was just a little joke because of last night. But he remained adamant that his initial response was appropriately correct. Then I brought up the bikes, and booze, and falling, and Kelly’s boyfriend Mike, and getting kicked out of heaven. And nothing. He was at home last night watching Finding Nemo or something stupid. I told him it was good talking to him anyway and hung up. My dog watched me. I watched back. He began licking my eyeballs again.

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