Only The Lonely

Only The Lonely

Disco music emanating faintly through the wall. When I left almost two hours ago, his blinds were open and...sure enough...good ol' fashioned gay cocksucking going on the tube. Apparantly my neighbor is more of a pornhead than I am, because the disco has been going all day. I just got home and a guy was on his back with his feet behind his ears like Bugs Fucking Bunny, taking Jimmy Dean's sausage up the keister. Ahh, what a many-splendored thing love is...

My Roy Orbison mp3s are now drowning out the anal-carnage soundtrack next door though. Few people nail down this feeling I'm feeling quite like Roy.

Money is scarce for a few days. I had every intention of a Steak & Shake run today, needing my weekly Amanda fix. Not to be. I considered going just for coffee, But that felt weird. I am becoming addicted to S&S's coffee, though. I stayed home and made my own. Made a three-egg omelette with mushrooms and tomatoes. Baked some squash. Cranked up some Funkadelic.

A nice day at home, doing some cleaning and organizing, but mostly fucking around. Took a bit of a nap, even. That hardly ever happens.

I called A around 6PM and left a message. I had my doubts all day. I was running myself through the wringer again, over-thinking, over-everything-ing. Maybe I shouldn't call. Maybe she was just trying to get rid of me when she said I could call. Maybe I'll never see her again and she's creeped out by my hairy ass. Maybe...maybe...

Oh, shut the fuck up. She likes you, asshole. Probably not the way you like her, but she does. Loosen up.

Of course, she hasn't called back yet.

I decided a new approach was needed. I didn't feel like going to a bar. Hmmm...why not go down near the university and hit a coffeeshop. Find some nice young college girl to talk to. The fuck-drive is back in low gear, just cruising a bit. Tonight I mostly just wanted to re-enter the game, try to simply enjoy an evening out, no expectations. Just find someone to talk to. That would be nice. The dick can wait. Fuck knows it's been waiting a long time anyway, why worry?

The sun was mostly down when I left, taking a moment to check my coolant level. I found a leak yesterday. I figured it was a hose. Thought I'd taped it up good, but it's still coming out from somewhere else. Shit. A slow leak, nothing major, but something to keep an eye on until I have money in a few days.

I drove through Beech Grove and over to the University Of Indianapolis. I still know approximately DICK about the area (and thank you to the magnificent D9 for the phrase "approximately dick", I intend to make fine use of it often) but I figured I'd find something. I at least would get a better feel for where things were at.

Nothing. Shit, not even a fucking Starbucks, believe it or not. Not that I wanted to go THERE.

Sunday night. Shit, nothing's open anyway. This is Indiana. Everybody's inside either doing Bible study or fucking their sister right now. What am I doing out here?

Well, I'm driving. Listening to Chris Squire's Fish Out Of Water with the window down, smoking. It's a chilly night, but pleasant. I'm alone, but that isn't a bad thing.

I felt contentment coming in. It wasn't a bad thing at all. Ahh, fuck it. I'll go home. There's nothing wrong with going home alone. I knew I would be anyway, even if I did meet someone.

I drove east on Southport, up to where it meets I-65. I still felt like coffee. Sumbitch, there's a Steak & Shake. Not Amanda's, but there it is. Have coffee there, and go home.

I sat down and ordered my coffee. Took a few sips. Nice.

Two girls walked in. Beautiful. Incredible. Around 20, both brunettes. One with somewhat shorter hair than the other. They were both smiling, happy. They sat down near me.

I managed to keep my eyes from being glued in their direction, but I stole a few glances. Christ, they're gorgeous. Radiant. They look happy, balanced. Goddamn, they look great.

The voice came in my head. A voice I know well, but I hate that wretched cocksucker.

"Forget it. They'd rather fuck giant sandcrabs than you, you filthy bastard. I hear they're expecting a heatwave in Hell tomorrow. What the fuck are you even looking for?"

Rat bastard. Fuck you in your ass. Why aren't you out spreading self-doubt through the Republican Party? THOSE assholes need some of that shit. Not me. Go fuck with somebody else's shattered ego, you heartless swine.

I went to the restroom. Took a piss, looked in the mirror. I thought I looked pretty good. But I'm not a hot young girl. I'm a graying 30-something fat hairy guy.

I had nothing to say. If I opened my mouth at either of them, I'd have said something utterly, hopelessly fucking retarded. Goddammit. I'm listening to that voice again.

There was a guy sitting next to my seat when I got back. About their age. Jock-looking. They were talking to him. I sat down with my coffee. Fuck.

A waiter tried to give me a hot fudge sundae. It was the girl's with the shorter hair.

"He's trying to give me your food. Hey, that looks pretty good if you don't really want it."

She laughed. And went back to talking to her friend. The extent of our fascinating conversation.

The jock left. So did I.

I was about to turn the key when I saw her come out with the manager who had served my coffee. Apaprantly the girls either worked there and were visiting on off hours, or the crew just knew them. Another waitress was with the other girl. They were standing outside looking at something. Their young fresh faces looking upwards. Smiling. Beautiful.

In that moment, the dick was quiet. I only wished I could feel one of them next to me. Her warmth. That was all. All I needed. All I really wanted, even. OK, maybe both of them. With leather.

Nah. Just the warmth. Some reassurance that I'm still human after all.

I turned the key while screwing a Winchester into my cigarette holder. The batteries had died on my portable CD player, so it was on a classic rock station. U2 filled the car as smoke.hit my lungs. They were still standing there. I turned it up. Yeah, Bono. I still haven't found what I'm looking for either. I'm not even sure what the fuck it is anymore. But until I figure it out, one of these lovely young women sure would be a nice stand-in.

I drove up Emerson singing along. Thinking I needed some Roy when I got home. He knows how I feel right now.

Maybe tomorrow...

Dougie