Cocaine -----Jose was ugly. Not quite so ugly as the seriously malformed, not a true monster, but for one with all his faculties and nothing overburdeningly extra, his looks were enough to curdle the milk of human kindness in most hearts. There is a way people grow used to their surroundings, put up with them, even learn to draw some pleasure from things first thought of as unpleasant, So there were those who would exchange greetings with Jose, joke with him, compliment him when he bought a new leather jacket, even sit with him at the bar and babble all sorts of stuff. But then he usually bought the beer. -----Jose's life was a lonely one. And for a man a lonely life is more than just inconvenient. To be a man takes more than just the courage to swing a chain in a parking lot, more than the sweat to buy some greasy food and a lumpy bed, more than a stomach full of thin beer. No, to be a man one thing is absolutely necessary... one thing more than any other. And despite the varieties of taste... it ain't no sheep. -----Jose worked as a dishwasher in one of the cities better restaurants. It paid more than the carwash. He had worked there for years and never risen above his station. The management was afraid to have him seen in the dining area or even prepping the food. So superstition lives on in the age of science. Besides, he was a great dishwasher. The cooks and waiters never ran short of utensils when he was on shift, even in the busiest of times. -----Jose didn't drink in the cocktail lounge of the place where he worked. He sucked down his brews in a dark little dive downstairs from his dingy apartment. There he heard from his few buddies of this one or that one; how she moaned or squirted, screamed or lunged, groaned or lolled; tight or loose, mammoth or flat as the bar here without the spilt beer, but with nipples like thumbs. He sipped his suds, listening, intrigued. -----Janet was young. When it came to filling the void in her life a dumptruck full of cocaine would have done the trick neatly. Often she was led by the nose to the threshold of the heart, but never further. She filled many a day or night between this and that for quite a few people, and wandered on, never a thought for tomorrow. For Janet yesterday wasn't just gone, it had no existence at all. Some glue could always get her through the rough spots. -----Howard explained to Jose, over a pitcher, how for a few lines Janet might put out. "But be careful, man, you know. Don't give her all the blow at once, you know, come on easy, a little at a time. Offer her a snort here at the bar, you know, tell her you have more at home, man, she'll go, she'll go and you'll come, Haw Haw. But, be cool, man, be cool, when ya get her home don't put it all out at once, you know, put a couple a lines on a mirror and then let her know what's up. How about another pitcher, man. Jimmy fronted me that stuff and I'm letting you have it at cost."
-----"I could do this all night." Janet says, holding her head back, one finger against her nose, while the other hand taps the straw on the bright little mirror.
-----"I know what I could do all night." Jose replies, rubbing Janets knee. She looks at him and shivers. Quickly she turns her attention to the glittering pile of powder on the glass. The straw nestled in one nostril she leans forward and tendrils of greasy hair surround her reflection making it like a pool in some wayward forest. She sucks the cocaine into her head. It burns and tastes of ether. A numbness spreads over her teeth. "Got any more?" she asks, looking out the window. A fight has spilled from the bar below into the street. Two young men shout curses at each other and throw ineffectual blows. A woman circles them yelling and flapping her arms. Janet laughs, then notices Jose standing beside her one hand in her hair while, through his pants, his urgency presses against her shoulder. For a second she almost wonders why men are like this. -----High above in a private jet a famous rock star and his nubile companions smoke coke naked. One youngster idly fingers his penis to see if it will rise. But he would rather smoke right now and so would they. Farther out, space and time curve back upon themselves, rather like Janet's uplifted ass. 01/06/87  Return to Welcome |