Chapter 6 and Chapter 7

CHAPTER 6

BEEDLE-DEEDLE-BEEDLE-DEEDLE-BEEDLE-DEEDLE!!!

That’s the sound of the phone ringing, pulling me out of a sound sleep on a Sunday morning. Well, ok, afternoon. I shuffle my way out to the kitchen, rubbing my eyes, and let out one final yawn before I pick up the receiver.

“Hello? Oh, hey Mom. No, that’s all right, I was gonna get up soon anyway. Sorry I didn’t call you this weekend, but with the party and everything… I got the message right before I went to work and deleted it. I forgot all about it when I got home. So what’s up?…Yeah….Yeah, I just saw him…what day was it? Thursday. He stopped by Thursday night. Yeah, he told me that’s why he couldn’t come to the party cuz he was going to Vermont for the weekend…why? WHAT!? HOW!? WHAT THE…Oh my God…When’s the wake? I’ve got classes that day but I can skip ’em. I’ll go to the earlier one and while I’m in Woonsocket, I’ll stop at home. Yeah, see you then. Love you, too. Bye.”

I slowly hang up the phone and go back to bed. I don’t sleep. I just lie there.


CHAPTER 7


The wake was…well, it was a wake. Stand in line, everyone’s crying, sorry for your loss. It’s weird, because no matter how sad you are, or how much you’re hurting because of the loss of friend, the assembly-line nature of the wake seems to desensitize you to it. Maybe that’s part of its purpose - to numb you. You spend so much time in this line, waiting for your turn to say this generic phrase (because what else can you say, really?). Then you stand around shooting the shit, either with people you don’t know, or people you haven’t seen since high school, the whole time wondering what the appropriate amount of time is to stick around afterwards.

I went home to my parents’ house after, and was greeted first by my Mom. As I walked in the door, she was getting up from the kitchen table where she was reading a book and having a cup of tea.

“Hey, Tim, how’s it going.” It was that not-quite-sure-how-to-greet-you kind of thing. “How’d the wake go?” she asks as she gives me a hug.
“OK.”
“His parents doing OK?”
“Yeah. As well as they can be.”
“You want some coffee?”
“Um…yeah. I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick.”
“Dad’s in there now. You almost done in there?”

By this point, my youngest sister is aware that I’m home and comes out to say “hi”.

“Hey, Tim.” She gives me a hug.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Nothin’”
“I’ll be in in a minute to see you, alright?”
“Alright.”

As I was taking my jacket off and putting it on the back of a chair at the kitchen table, my Dad came out of the bathroom.

“Hey,” I say, as I give him a hug.
“How’s it goin’?”
“Good.”

I finally get to the bathroom and as I go in and shut the door, I hear my Mom ask my Dad if he wants any coffee, but he says he’s all set.

I find my way to the sink without turning on the light, and stand there in the darkness. After a moment, I turn on the light over the sink, and stare at myself in the mirror. I take my glasses and watch off, and turn the cold water on. As the water is running, I continue to stare at myself in the mirror, only now I look blurry because my glasses are off. When the water is cold enough, I scoop some up and splash it on my face. I do this a couple more times, trying to wash away…I don’t know what. On the last time, I run my wet fingers through my hair, before shaking the excess water off of them, and turn the faucet off. I dry my hands and face before putting my glasses and watch back on. Now that I can see again, for some reason, I am unable to raise my eyes and look at myself in the mirror. I reach over and flip the light switch off.

I leave the bathroom, putting on a little smile so I don’t show how upset I am.

“You want a muffin? I just made some,” my Mom asks.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Have a seat, you’re coffee’s ready.”

I sit down at the table, and as I begin to pour a ridiculous amount of cream into my coffee, my Mom puts a muffin down on a napkin in front of me.

“Here you go.”
“Thank you.”

We start to talk, me reluctantly at first, but as I make my way through my coffee and muffin, I loosen up, and eventually end up trying to explain the Spider-Man clone saga to her.

“So…now it turns out, that the one that they thought was the clone, was actually the original one.”
“Jeez.“
“And now the one who really is the clone..is…like decides, he’s like, “OK I’m, Ya know, I’m just gonna go away,” and but then it turns…it’s…you’re gonna find out later on that he REALLY was the original one…and…”
“Now you lost me.”
“Yeah it’s…I lost myself.”
“Ha ha ha ha.”
“But, anyway..”
“Well, it makes it interesting.”
“Yeah.”
“We rented a movie, you wanna watch it?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah? O.K. I think you’ll like it.”

As we’re getting up to put our cups in the sink, one of my other sisters, the middle of the three, comes out of her room on the phone.

“OH! Um yeah, my brother’s here.”
“Well look who’s here.”
"Yeah, so I’m gonna see you tonight? Alright. Bye,” she says wrapping up her phone conversation. “Hey!” to me.
“How ya doin’?”
“Not too bad. How are you?”
“Good.”
“That’s good.”
“So, you gonna stick around for the movie, or are you cutting out?”
“Um, kinda got plans.”
“All right.”
“Later though.”
“O.K.” I tell my sister. “You can start the movie if you want, I’ll be in in a minute,” I tell my Mom.
“O.K.”

I go through the curtain into my youngest sister’s room (she doesn’t have a door), and greet her with a “Hey.”

“Hey.”
I give her another hug. “Wanna come watch a movie with us?”
“Sure, I’m just putting my pajamas on first.”
“Oh, O.K. Hurry up though, cuz Mom started it already.”
“O.K.”

I leave her room and walk back through the kitchen, heading for the parlor. I catch my sister as she’s leaving, so I stop to say bye to her.

“You leaving now?” I ask her.
“Yeah.”
“You’re goin’ to my concert though, right?”
“Yeah!”
“All right, I’ll see ya then.”
“All right.”
“Have fun tonight.”
“I will.”
“Be good.”
Reluctantly, “I will.”
“Ha ha…bye.”
“Bye.”

Once I make it into the parlor, I see the oldest of my sisters asleep on the couch.

“Ha ha. Look who’s here.” I sit on the arm of the couch so I can lean over her. “Hey”
“Mmm?”
“You sleepin’? Hm? You out partyin’ last night?”
“No, why do you keep asking me that?” She must have been having déjà vu.
“I didn’t ask you nothin’.
“Uuuugggghhh.,” she groans, then all of a sudden, turns her head to look up at me in a freaky sort of you-just-woke-me-from-sleep-walking kind of way. You know, when they’re awake, but they don’t know it and they won’t remember talking to you when they actually wake up.
“Ha ha ha, alright, go back to sleep.”
“Yeah,” she says sternly as she puts her head back down.

I get up off of the arm of the couch and head over to where my parents are in front of the TV. They are each sitting in their rocking chairs, and I go over to sit down in this mini futon, cushion thing in between them.

“All set?” my Mom asks.
“Yeah, let’s wait for…” I trail off and then yell for my youngest sister. “You comin’?”
“Yep!” she yells, and then a few seconds comes in, wearing her pajamas like she said.
“Ok, Dad, you can start it,” my Mom says.

My Dad hits play on the remote, and as the movie starts, my sister comes over and I let her sit on my lap, because she is still small enough to. However, she is big enough to almost tip over the seat.

“Whoa,” I say as I catch us from going completely over. We all have a little laugh, then get settled in and watch the movie.

When it’s done and we all come out of the zombie state, I yawn, stretch my arms and check my watch.

“Ugh, what time is it? Oh, that was longer than I thought. I gotta get goin’.” I still had about an hour drive ahead of me to get back to my house at school.
“Oh!” my Mom says as she checks her watch too.
“Alright. Uuuuhh,” I groan as I stand up and stretch my back. I turn to my Dad to give him a hug. “I’ll see you at the concert.”
“Ok.”
“Bye.”
“See ya later, take care.”
“You too. You coming out?” I ask my Mom.
“Yeah, I’ll go out.”

My Dad stays in his chair and changes the channel on the TV, putting one of his shows on. My Mom gets up and she and my sister follow me out to the kitchen. I get my coat off the back of the chair and as I put it on, my Mom asks,

“So, you all set for food and everything?”
“Yeah, I’m all set, I’ve got stuff that’ll last for a while.”
“Yeah? Ok. Alright, well, be careful driving back.”
“I will.”
“Take it easy,” she says as I give her a hug.
“You too. Love you.”
“Love you. Bye.”
“Bye.”
“When’s the next time I’m gonna see you?” my youngest sister asks as I give her a hug.
“Um, you’ll see me at the concert, right?”
“Yeah,” my Mom says.
My sister nods with a little smile on her face
“Ok, so not too long,” I reassure her. “Alright?”
“Alright,” she agrees.
“I’ll see you then.”
“Alright, take care,” my Mom says.
“Bye,” my sister says.
“Bye,” I say as I open the kitchen door and walk through it, shutting it behind me. I take a step, but then stop. Everything that I was able to put out of my mind in the last couple of hours comes rushing back in. My friend is gone. My head hangs as I make my way through the hall and out the door. I am not looking forward to the hour long drive, where I will be alone with my thoughts.

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

The next morning I wake up to voices coming from the living room. Usually when we have parties, a bunch of people will crash at our place. If I went to bed before the party ended and didn’t know who had stayed over, I would listen to the voices the next morning and try to figure out who was still here. This was easy, because there were only three voices and I knew them very well: My roommate, his girlfriend and my best friend. I drag my ass out of bed and put on a pair of boxers (yeah, I sleep naked), and shuffle out into the living room.

“Well look who’s finally up,” my roommate says.
“Whaddaya mean ‘finally’? It’s only 11:30.”
“Dude, your party last night was AWESOME! I was dancing with that girl with the huge boobs (what’s her name?), then I was dancing with your cousin… It was awesome.”
“Cool man, I’m glad you had a good time. Hey it’s cool if you want to date my cousin.
“Dude, that’s your cousin!”

Me and my best friend decided we were going to go get coffee at my favorite doughnut place around the corner. They’re my favorite because theirs is the only coffee I like, even if the cups are covered with bible quotes. My roommate and his girlfriend stay at the house (probably to have sex, can’t say I blame them), which is good because we have some catching up to do. I throw on some pants, a shirt and my sandals and I’m ready to go. As we’re leaving, I notice that the light is blinking on the answering machine. I figure it’s a message from that weird girl whocalled last night, so I don’t bother checking it yet.

When we get there, I order my usual: a tank of French vanilla iced coffee, lots of cream, lots of sugar and less ice, and he gets milk. He loves milk. I grab a table next to the window, because even though my eyes are still squinty from the light, it’s a little chilly so the sun feels good.

“So were you serious about your cousin? I mean, if we started dating or whatever, I’m not saying we would, but if we did, you’d be cool with it?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, I know you’re a good guy and you’re not going to intentionally try to fuck her over or be a dick to her, so why wouldn’t I be cool with it?”
“I don’t know, most people are weird about their friends dating family members and whatnot.”
“I don’t care. Hell I’ve told you that you can date any of my exes that you want, and that wouldn’t bother me either. When they’re an ex, they’re an ex. I don’t have any sort of territorial feelings of ownership over them.”
“Speaking of exes, at that party a while back, that was kind of a dick thing that you did.”
“What, I was wasted and happy that she came to the party so I made out with her.”
“Right in front of your ex…”
“Exactly, she’s my ex. It’s not like I was still with her and I cheated on her.”
“She was still really upset though.”
“I’m not saying she wasn’t. I mean, I do feel bad that she saw it, but I wasn’t going to not do it. I didn’t plan for it to happen, it just sort of came together like that and I reacted on instinct.”
“What about that other girl you invited?”
“I didn’t invite her. She was going to a concert that night, so I thought she wouldn’t show up and I would be in the clear. Someone else must have told her about the party and she came afterwards. It’s not my fault she showed up.”
“Yeah, but you were still seeing each other.”
“Not really, I mean we never had ‘the talk’.”
“What talk.”
“You know, the talk that defines the relationship or whatever it is. Where you both lay your cards on the table and see where things stand. That’s usually the point where all of a sudden things change and sometimes start to go downhill. We had just been hanging out every now and then, we hooked up a couple of times and that was it. Plus it was really awkward talking to her, and you know how important talking is to me. I felt like I had to entertain her all the time.”
“Well, you still should have told her that you didn’t want to see her anymore.”
“I told you, we weren’t seeing each other, because that was never established. If we have ‘the talk’ then that establishes something, which means for it to end, ‘we need to talk’. If there was no talk to establish anything, then there doesn’t need to be a talk to un-establish it, because there is nothing to un-establish.”
“I still think it was wrong.”
“It wasn’t wrong. I mean, it was not nice, I’ll give you that, but it wasn’t wrong.”
“So any new girls you’re scoping out, heart-breaker?”
“Very funny, but no, not really.”
“What about that one you made out with at that party, what about her?”
“She gradually lost interest in me once she found out I was a virgin and I wasn’t going to sleep with her.”
“What about doing other stuff?”
“I guess she wasn’t interested in the other stuff. Or maybe it was just me, I don’t know. Whatever.”
“What about that girl with the big boobs? (I keep forgetting her name) She seems like she might be interested in you, but you don’t give her much attention.”
“Nah, she’s not really my type.”
“Whaddaya mean, not your type?”
“She’s got brown eyes.?
“Man you and your rules! What’s the big deal with blue eyes?”
“I’m sorry, I just think brown eyes are boring. I’d much rather look at blue eyes.”
“Blue eyes are the Devil.”
“Oh come on don’t take it personally, I could look into your brown eyes all day, HAHA!”

By this point we are done our coffees and I have to get ready to go to work, so we head back to my house. While he’s gathering his stuff, I go grab a collared shirt that has been hanging up on a hook since I wore it on my last shift. I spray the armpits of the shirt with Febreeze, making it as good as new, put it on and button it.

“Aren’t you gonna tuck that in?”
“Why?”
“Never mind. Hey great party last night, as usual.”
“Thank you, thank you… we aim to please.”

On our way out, I notice the blinking message light again. I want to stall a little more before going to work, so I check it. It was my Mom saying she had to tell me something and to call her when I get a chance.

“She sounded kind of serious. You should call her back.”
“I’m gonna be late as it is. I’ll call her when I get home from work,” I tell him as I hit the erase button.
“See ya later, Dude”
“Later.”

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

[The following chapter has been edited, due to explicit content. If you so desire to read the un-edited version, email me, and I will send it to you directly.]

PARTY TIME!! Oh thank God!! This is exactly what I need! Some drinking, some music, some dancing, some naked time… Oh yeah, by the way, you should probably know that I like to take my clothes off…A LOT. Starting I think when I was a freshman, I’ve been stripping at parties. It kind of started as a joke, but now it’s like tradition. [EDIT]

So anyway, (I keep doing that) about this party. My roommate had his computer connected to the stereo in the living room, so he could make a playlist that would run all night and we wouldn’t have to worry about CDs ending or whatever. He always did a good job of having a mix of dance, hip-hop, hardcore and old cartoon theme songs (he had downloaded the G.I. Joe, Thundercats, Carebares and Transformers themes that he would occasionally sneak in for nostalgia and shock value). The living room was designated for dancing, complete with blacklights and a lava lamp. The kitchen was usually most of the people who just got there and didn’t have the nerve quite yet to move to one of the other rooms and actually start to participate in the party…or people getting booze. We had a back room that was at the other end of the house and that was where most of the regular talking took place. It was far enough from the living room so that you didn’t have to shout in order to talk over the music. This room was also the only room with the lights on, while the rest of the house had appropriate mood lighting. There’s also a deck out back so people can get some air and cool off without being out front where cops would see. There were always good mixes of people too. I would invite my music major friends and friends from back home, my roommate was also friends with most of my music friends but he would also invite his friends from ambulance, and his girlfriend would bring her friends too. My Dad even came to a few. Oh yeah he was a hit. One time he even asked me if my sister was coming with any weed, and another time asked if anyone would have mescaline at the party! He wasn't at this one however.

So there’s drinking, music, dancing, laughing, lots of girls and some guys too. At one point, I’m in the kitchen drinking a beer and my roommate comes over to me, pretty drunk and a little concerned.

“Dude, there’s a bunch of people hanging out in your room,” he says.
“That’s cool. I know them all, they won’t fuck anything up or steal shit.”
“Yeah, but they’re not out socializing with everyone else.”
“There are plenty of people out dancing already, it was probably too crowded. Plus I’m sure they’ll come out eventually. Don’t worry. Here’s to a job well done.” I raise my beer bottle for a “cheers”.
After we clink bottles, his girlfriend comes over and puts her arm around him and gives him a kiss.
“I was wondering where you guys were. I should have known you’d be admiring your handy-work.”
We smile and nod our agreement to each other.
“So Tim, there are a lot of cute girls here,” she says. “Which one, or ones, do you have your eye on?”
“I’m ah… taking a little break.”

[EDIT]

“I think I’m gonna lay off the girls for a while.”
“Hey don’t wait too long,” my roommate said, “you don’t want to miss out on something.”
“Based on the last couple of times, I don’t think I’m “missing” much.”
“A couple of the girls back there looked interested. You should go talk to them.”
“Nah, they’re kind of boring and weird.”
“So what, you only have to put up with it for a little bit. You can probably get at least one of them to have sex with you.”
“I don’t want to have sex with either one of them.”
“Is this about you being a virgin? I told you, It’s different for guys. A guy’s first time doesn’t have to be special, It’s just something you have to get over with.”
“Thanks for the words of wisdom, but I don’t want to just get it over with…”
“I think it’s really sweet that you want to wait,” his girlfriend broke in.
“Why thank you, and thank you for your support.”
“Whatever, maybe the two of you can go buy tampons together now.”
Just then the phone rang and my roommate picked it up.
“Hello?” A big smile stretches across his face. “Yes, he’s right here. One moment please…” he covers the phone with his hand as he passes it to me, and in his best impersonation of an eighth grader says, “It’s a giiiirl!”
Trying to run through my head the list of who it could be, I take the phone and pause for a second before saying, “Hello?”
“Hello, Timothy.”
I pause, trying to figure out who it is but eventually I give up. “Who’s this?”
“Are you having fun at your party?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“It sounds like you’ve about had your fill of meaningless debauchery.”
“Um, sure.”
“You are almost ready for me then. However a few more things remain before I can come to you.”
“Right, of course.”
“You must remember to be strong in the coming weeks, and trust that what happens is for the best.”
“Oh, yes. It always is.”
“I will see you soon.”
“I look forward to it.”
As I hung up the phone, my roommate says, “Ah, so that’s why you’re flying solo tonight! You got some flayva on the side! How come you never tell me about these girls?”
“So what’s her name?” his girlfriend asks.
“I have no fucking clue.” They both stare at me, shocked and confused.
“Dude, you should fuck her!” my roommate says.
“I have no idea who that was! She knew my name and was saying all this stuff about me being ready and strong and seeing me soon.”
“Sounds like she’s going to deflower you.” his girlfriend said.
“You should DEFINITELY fuck her!”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

Just then my best friend comes over to get another drink out if the refrigerator. He comes over to us as he’s opening his beer.

“Lotsa lesbians out here tonight!” he says.
“Where’s the lesbians?” my roommate asks.
“Did you see the lesbians on the porch!?” he asks as he points over his shoulder with his thumb, his pinky half sticking up, making him look a little like a surfer.
“Dude, get those people, in the room, to get out!”
“Dude, I’s I fuckin’ saw ‘em in there, and I’m didn’t fuckin’ want a piece of that shit.”
“You gotta do somethin’ man,” my roommate says, and my best friend leaves to go dance.

“We should go do a sound check,” my roommate says.
“I’m going to go dance,” his girlfriend says.
“Ok, we’ll see you in there in a minute.”

We go out side, shut the door and stand out in the street for a couple of minutes listening. The reason why we have to do this is that, at one party I was very drunk, and Blind by Korn came on the stereo. My roommate made the mistake of leaving his karaoke mic plugged in. I run into the living room (which was empty by the way, I wasn’t performing for anyone else’s sake, this was for me), grab the mic, stand on the couch and start to sing along, scratch that, SCREAM along. “What if I should DIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEE!” My roommate comes running in telling me that I’m going to blow out his speakers, which of course, I become very proud of. About ten minutes later some of my friends get back from Cumberland Farms which is around the block and tell me that they could hear our music, all the way from there. And over that… me screaming. Again I am very proud of myself. Needless to say, within a half hour the cops showed up. They were actually very cool (one of them had pulled me over before for going 65 in a 30 when me and my roommate were going to Stop and Shop at three in the morning and let me off) and they gave us our warning about the noise and said that if they have to come back we’ll get arrested. So now at every party we do these sound checks. It’s basically a formality though, because as long as I’m not doing karaoke, we’re fine.

Once we decide we are comfortable with the volume level, we head around back to make sure the porch dwellers are enjoying themselves. Then we head back in, to check on the back-room group. After that appearance, we head back to the living room for dancing. By now Closer by Nine Inch Nails is playing and some of the guys and girls have their shirts off. We shrug and take our shirts off, and join the sea of skin in our living room. When my best friend sees me, he gives me his assessment of the current situation.

“There’s so much naked goin’ on in this house!”

No time like NAKED TIME!

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

So it’s a couple of days later, I think it might be Thursday because my roommate wasn’t home. He volunteers on the ambulance at URI and every Thursday he had night team, where he stays there all night in case there are any calls. The funny part is that he used to make fun of people who were on the ambulance, Whackers, I think he used to call them. There was one kid who he said used to wear his stethoscope to class. One time someone asked him why he was still wearing it, and he said that he didn’t even notice because he was so used to having it on. Peacock. Then all of a sudden my roommate joins and he ends up really liking it. I didn’t knock him for it (too much), but then he tried to get me to join too. He said it would be good for my resume and this and that, but it just wasn’t something I wanted to do. My Dad was even an EMT, so you would think it was in my blood, but I had other plans for my life (or maybe my life had other plans for me).

So anyway, Thursday night, roommate not home. I’m in the living room, sitting on the couch, doing my Latin homework on a TV tray, so of course I’m miserable. You’re probably wondering why I keep whining about Latin. I’ll explain why it’s the bane of my existence. If you’ve ever taken Spanish or French or maybe other languages, you know how all of the verbs have different conjugations so that they agree with the subject. So for every verb, there is like six other versions of that word you have to know. For the most part these versions follow a pattern which is easy to remember, but a great amount of them are irregular and have their own version that you have to memorize separately. In Latin there are conjugations, but you also have different forms of the nouns as well called declensions. So not only do you have to know all of the verb forms and make them agree, you also have to know all of the noun forms and make them agree! So if I’m translating an entire paragraph from English to Latin, I have to look through my note cards to see if it is a vocab word, if not I have to look it up in the glossary and get the Latin word, then look in the book to see if it is irregular so I know how to do the conjugation or declension, then back to my note cards to see how to change the word, then write the word in my notebook. And repeat…translation book, to note cards or glossary, to book, to note cards, to note book, ad infinitum. (Haha, get it? That’s Latin.) Oh yeah, and in Latin the word order is even more backward than Spanish, the subject is like at the end of the sentence “to create suspense,” so when I’m trying to piece a sentence together, the words are getting put in this seemingly random order and I have to try to leave room in-between all the words. God just thinking about it irritates me, writing it down even more so. I bet you’re getting irritated just reading about it. That’s the point - FEEL MY PAIN!

This time I didn’t have as much patience as before, so after a half an hour or so (I probably got only one sentence done in that time), I gave up. This came complete with the dramatic throwing of the pen, slamming the book shut and flopping back on the couch. I sit looking at the ceiling for a moment wondering why after four-plus years as a Music Composition student, this is what I’m spending a great majority of my time on. I should be composing music and nothing but. Isn’t that why I came to this school? I’ve got all of these ideas swimming around in my head all the time, but I don’t get a chance to do anything with them. I’ve even got this one big idea where I want to compose these pieces for orchestra and chorus based on books of the Bible, specifically, Genesis, the Passion and Revelation. Maybe I will even turn it into a musical or an opera or maybe even a movie. Not to mention all of the little ideas I get that I would like to experiment with. But no, this is what I’m doing instead.

I decide that I will allow myself a little break for some recreational reading before I start up again. I usually have a book with me at all times, just in case I’m really bored somewhere, I’ll have something to do. I settle in, get comfortable and crack it open, but I’m not even halfway through one page when I hear the screen door open. I crane my neck to try to see who it is. I figure it’s probably our neighbor who knows my Dad and my landlord from the Woonsocket Hospital where he works. He’ll just let himself in, and one time he even walked in while my roommate was changing, another time while he was “being intimate” with his girlfriend on the couch. I hear a knock which means it’s not him, so I mark my page, put my book down and get up to go answer the door. I’m curious now because I don’t get many random visitors. As I come into the kitchen and I have a more clear line of sight, I am able to make out the face that’s peeking in the window grinning at me and I chuckle. It’s one of my old friends from high school, probably the only one I still talk to, and he goes to grad school at URI. I unlock the door to let him in.

“What’s goin’ on, kid?” I ask as we grab hands.
“What’s goin’ on!?” he asks as we launch into that half-hand-shake-half-hug thing guys do. I call it a “man-shake”.
“How’re ya doin?” complete with a snap at the end.
“Not too bad thanks, yourself?” he says with this mock sophistication that is part of his personality. He’s hilarious.
“I’m awesome.” He’s wearing this red sweater that reminds me of these red shorts he used to wear with an orange shirt back in high school.
“Alright, good to see ya.” he says as he closes the door.
“You wanna come sit down? Can you stay for a minute?”
“Well I’d like to sit down, but I just had some hot wieners tonight. Not too sure about that, but let’s try.”
“Alright let’s see how ya do.”
“Alright.”

We go into the living room and I start to pack up my Latin.

“Let me just get some of this shit out of the way.”
“Oh, I wasn’t interrupting you bro, was I?”
“No, I was doing my Latin homework, and I was getting pissed off anyway.”
“You sure, man?”
“I had stopped to take a break anyway, I was just reading.”
“You know me, I’m a simple man! Don‘t wanna interfere here!” he says as he clenches and opens his hands in front of him, doing one of his favorite impersonations of a social studies teacher at our old high school.
“Oh no don’t even worry about it.”
We sit, but then I realized that I was being a bad host.
“You want a drink or something?”
“Ya know man, actually, my throat’s a little dry, and you know, I don’t know if you got any hard stuff.”
I give him a double take.
“No, I’m only kidding, but I told you I had those wieners right and I had a Coca-cola Classic. I’m drinking it, and the next thing you know, my stomach starts turning and all that stuff. So then I had an Awful Awful, the chocolate one. You can get chocolate and strawberry mixed together: bad scenario…”
“Uugghh.”
“…bad scenario, not feeling too good. I could go for some water if you have any.”
“Alright, yeah I’ll get you some water.”
“That’ll be awesome. I’ll come with you.”
“All right.”

We go into the kitchen and I pour us each a cup of water from the tap and hand him one.

“Ah I see you’re breaking out the good stuff for the company,” he says.
“Nothing but the finest for you my friend, this is Narragansett Spring water you’ve got there, almost as good as Woonsocket water.”
“Almost as good as Woonsocket water the key phrase my friend.”
“Ah, Woonsocket.”
“Well, Woonsocket is a City on the Move.”
“That it is.”
“You know, the mayor of Woonsocket is a nice lady.”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t want to fuck her…but she’s a nice lady.”
“Is that the type of society we live in, where a woman is judged by her looks, instead of merit?” he asks sarcastically.
“Yes…yes it is,” I reply, honestly, but with a hint of humor.
“Yeah, you’re right…she is ugly.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
“Woonsocket water…mmmm,” He says as he lifts the cup to his mouth. He’s holding it with two hands like a child, with all of his fingers wrapped around the entire glass, and starts to drink, sorry, gulp the water.

Then an odd thing happens. It must have had something to do with the wieners and the Coke and the Awful Awful, and now adding this Narragansett equivalent of the water we grew up on. Maybe some of his tasty beverage went down the wrong pipe and he started to choke. In mid gulp, he projectile vomits into his cup! Like what the hell!? Who does that!? Only this guy. It was probably the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, and I wish that I had caught it on video tape!

He runs off to the bathroom and I stay behind, kind of in shock because of what just happened, but not so much so that I can’t still laugh my ass off. After a minute or so, I follow him in to see if he’s OK.

When I go in there, he’s crouched down on his haunches leaning over the toilet. “Oh my God…Holy shit…” he says as he stands up and leans against the wall with both hands like he’s getting arrested. (This whole time I’m giggling like a little girl.) Then he spits, does a post-puke burp and spits again. “Oh my God…That’s gross…Dude this is NASTY…Look at that!” and he points to the cup on the bathroom sink, 1/3 of it water, then on top of that, 1/3 frothy wiener vomit. “Narragansett tap water…crap!” He flushes the toilet and starts to recover, as I’m wiping the tears from my eyes and settling down. I go back to the living room so he can clean up. I lay down on the couch and let the last few chuckles out, my sides and stomach hurting. Man did I need that after the day I was having.

After he’s done cleaning up he comes into the living room, I sit up and he sits next to me.

“You wanna watch a movie?” I ask him.
“No, I can’t. I gotta get up early tomorrow to get some work done before classes. Ugh, It’s getting ridiculous.”
“I hear ya. It’s like me with Latin,” I say. “At least we’ll get to hang out at my party!”
“Yeah! When is it?” he asks.
“This weekend…well, Friday… tomorrow.”
“Oh, Dude…I‘m going to be away this weekend.”
“Whaaaaaat!?”
“Yeah, me and my baby are going to Vermont.”
“Awwww, kid, you’re killin’ me!”
“We’ve had this trip planned for a while now.”
“But we haven’t had a party in a long time. Plus, remember what happened last time, when you didn’t come?” (it’s a long story.)
He drops his head a little, “Do I detect some hostility?”
I suddenly grab him by the shoulders and bug my eyes out, “Maybe just a bit!” Then I let go, “Nah I’m just givin’ ya a hard time. You go have fun in Vermont.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll make sure I’m here for the next one, I promise.”
“Alright, deal. Hey, do you have at least a little while, to sit and chat?”
“Yeah I can stay for a bit.”
“Cool.”

We catch up for the next 45 minutes or so, discussing everything from school to girls to politics to religion, as we usually do when we haven’t seen each other in a while. Then at out next lull, he gets up.

“Well, it‘s getting‘ kinda late.”
I look at my watch. “Yeah, it is. I’ll let you get goin’ Buddy.”
“Yeah thanks a lot, Pal.”
“I should probably get back to my Latin homework anyway. I’ll walk you out.”

As we head to the kitchen the phone rings.

“Let me just answer this real quick,” I say as I pick up the phone. “Hello?” I wait for a minute and don’t hear anything and instead of saying ‘Hello’ again, I just hang up.
“Who was that?” he asks.
“I don’t know, no one answered. Probably a telemarketer though.”
“What makes you say that?”
“When telemarketers call they wait for you to say ‘Hello’ a second time before they start talking. I think it’s to make sure it isn’t an answering machine. So I only say hello once. If no one responds, I hang up. It saves me a lot of time.”
“Huh, I’ll have to try that.”
“It’s a little tricky because you first instinct will be to just spit out ‘Hello’ again, so you have to think and be ready.”
“Well, Buddy, it was good talking to you, as always.”
“Yeah, you too, man. I hope your stomach is feeling better.”
“It is, thank you, Sir. Have fun at your party. Sorry I won’t be here.” He puts his hand out and we “man-shake” again.
“Hey don’t even worry about it. Next time. You guys have fun in Vermont.”
“We will. You know what they say about Vermont, right?”
“…No.”
“Me neither.”
“O.K. good. Well you give ‘em something to say about Vermont.”
“I will, I will. They want my skills…they get the full package!” (Whatever that means!?!?)
“Alright, drive careful.”
“You take care. Good luck with Latin.”
“Alright, thanks. I’ll see ya’ soon, Buddy.”
“See ya’ Buddy.”
“Later.”
“Goodnight.”

I shut and lock the kitchen door after he leaves. It was really good seeing him and he definitely put me in a better mood. However, now I feel a sinking feeling as I head back into the living room to try to finish my Latin homework before sunrise.