Happy Birthday to me!
for my birthday today i had a steak breafast/dinner when i got home from work last night, and as a special treat, before i went to bed, i turned turned the A/C on, set it to ice and got the best nights sleep i have had in months. i'll have to turn it off before i go to work, but it is nice to curl up in my big blanket and sleep. on the flip side, i ended up sleeping most of the day and now i'm about 3 hrs behind schedule. oh well, fuck it it's my birthday.
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
Sunday, April 04, 2004
he drove into the west Texas sunset. she sat next to him in the truck. it was late July. hot, sticky and just plain grueling. the old truck had no A/C and with the chopped top the windows only hinted at the breeze blowing past the windows at 70 miles an hour. the truck rocked and creaked as the open header pipes bellowed their arrival on the road to points unknown. where were they going? she didn't know and neither did he. he knew that where ever it was it wasn't where they'd been the night before. before the fight. before the whiskey. before it all went terribly wrong.
Patrick had the day off. a rarity these days. he was trying like mad to pay his bills and rebuild his broken bike. it had broken a long time ago and the stream of broken hearts and broken whiskey bottles had left him in debt and with out his beloved chopper. he sat in his home watching TV occasionally staring out the window to the garage. the padlock was beginning to shown signs of weather, and the leaves were piling against the door from un-use. he decide he needed a drink. not just any drink would do. it had to be a good one. not one could make himself. but one that was made just for him. a drink that would take his breath away and absolve him of all his fears. so he combed back his greasy hair, dusted of his cowboy boots and headed out the door to find his solace in the bottom of a glass.
when he got to the bar it was just the way he wanted. loud, dirty, ugly punk rock made it's way from the stage and filtered through the patrons souls and out in the night. the doorman gave him a handshake and smile and let him on thru. he went straight to the bar and waited for the magic elixirs to be handed him in the grim dark light and swirling noise. that was when he noticed her. she was standing next to the jukebox as if she knew, and purposely stood there to bath in her personal spotlight. her black hair rolled and cascaded off her shoulders. her eyes sparkled. her lips followed the words to the music. or so he thought. but instead of watching the band,she turned to him and smiled with a come hither grin and Patrick knew this girl was going to be the death of him. he could see death in her eyes and lust on her mind. they both stood for a moment and just stared at each other. then she turned back around to dance and sing along to the band. Patrick ordered up a second drink and strode over to say hello. when the band was over he asked her name and they began talking. suddenly there were no others in the bar, and the music fell off into background noise. the once blaring jukebox was no longer filler between bands, it became the soundtrack to lust and sin. she told him things he wanted to hear but was afraid to ask. she whispered in his ears things that took his breath away and made his skin fit funny. she turned and nodded towards the dark corner behind the stage. the band was unloading their gear and they would just be another couple in the mass and disappear for a moment. she reached out and took his hand and his breath away. she led him to the dark corner. her eyes glowing in the shadows. she pulled him close to her, brushed her cheek against his as she drew back for a kiss. her lips met his and the world stopped. the music stopped. his heart stopped. then it raced out of control as it came back to life. her lips were soft and inviting. she tasted of bourbon and cigarettes. her hands pulled him closer to her and comforted his broken heart. that was when it happened.
Patrick didn't realize it when it happened. it was just a dulled thud on the back of his head. but he'd work in bars for so long he knew the sound of glass breaking over a skull. his knees buckled slightly. he wasn't sure where the slight dizziness was coming from. the long remorseless kiss he had just been given or the bottle broken over his head. he spun around to find a young man puzzled as to why he was still standing. he heard her call out to the man who'd hit him, asking why he couldn't leave her alone, why he wouldn't let go. why he'd would not let her get on with her life. the first punch brought Patrick back to reality and he responded in kind. the mans eyes rolled but he stood his ground. the second punch caught Patrick in the shoulder, third was deflected. Patrick's second hit connected right below the mans left eye, his cheek split and spilled blood as he fell to the floor. in the few seconds that it took, the entire bar staff was rushing towards him. he spun around grabbed the girl, and ran thru the guitars and amps spilling on the floor from the scuffle out the back door and to the truck. he never asked if she wanted to go with him. he just took her along. he was just as scared as she was. did he have friends, was someone hot on his heels in pursuit? he never looked back. he just ran to his truck, threw her in, fired the old beast up and rocketed out of the parking lot and out into the streets. after leaving the club she never said a word. she just held on to Patrick's hand as they ran. once in the truck she just sat there, looking at Patrick, looking at the blood on her hands, looking out the window.
he didn't know where to go, so he went home. she cleaned the broken glass from his hair and washed the blood from his face and hands. they didn't speak much, they didn't have to speak. there was not much to say. there was not much that wasn't being said in a glance, a nod or a touch of the hand. they slowly undressed. Patrick was beginning to get sore as his adrenaline soaked muscles relaxed. they laid down together, they embraced, and kissed as they drifted off to sleep.
the next morning over coffee and cigarettes she told him her life. of how she knew that if she didn't leave then she would never be able to relax. he would always be there, he would always find her. Patrick didn't really have that much worth staying for himself. his debt would never be paid off and he needed a reason to leave as well. to start fresh. so it was decided, they would start out together. he packed a few clothes, put his tools and broken bike in the back of his truck. left a note for his land lord to sell what he could and throw the rest away.
he asked if she needed anything, she replied no. there was no place to go and all she needed was already in the truck. if anything else came up, they'd find it on the road.
Patrick had the day off. a rarity these days. he was trying like mad to pay his bills and rebuild his broken bike. it had broken a long time ago and the stream of broken hearts and broken whiskey bottles had left him in debt and with out his beloved chopper. he sat in his home watching TV occasionally staring out the window to the garage. the padlock was beginning to shown signs of weather, and the leaves were piling against the door from un-use. he decide he needed a drink. not just any drink would do. it had to be a good one. not one could make himself. but one that was made just for him. a drink that would take his breath away and absolve him of all his fears. so he combed back his greasy hair, dusted of his cowboy boots and headed out the door to find his solace in the bottom of a glass.
when he got to the bar it was just the way he wanted. loud, dirty, ugly punk rock made it's way from the stage and filtered through the patrons souls and out in the night. the doorman gave him a handshake and smile and let him on thru. he went straight to the bar and waited for the magic elixirs to be handed him in the grim dark light and swirling noise. that was when he noticed her. she was standing next to the jukebox as if she knew, and purposely stood there to bath in her personal spotlight. her black hair rolled and cascaded off her shoulders. her eyes sparkled. her lips followed the words to the music. or so he thought. but instead of watching the band,she turned to him and smiled with a come hither grin and Patrick knew this girl was going to be the death of him. he could see death in her eyes and lust on her mind. they both stood for a moment and just stared at each other. then she turned back around to dance and sing along to the band. Patrick ordered up a second drink and strode over to say hello. when the band was over he asked her name and they began talking. suddenly there were no others in the bar, and the music fell off into background noise. the once blaring jukebox was no longer filler between bands, it became the soundtrack to lust and sin. she told him things he wanted to hear but was afraid to ask. she whispered in his ears things that took his breath away and made his skin fit funny. she turned and nodded towards the dark corner behind the stage. the band was unloading their gear and they would just be another couple in the mass and disappear for a moment. she reached out and took his hand and his breath away. she led him to the dark corner. her eyes glowing in the shadows. she pulled him close to her, brushed her cheek against his as she drew back for a kiss. her lips met his and the world stopped. the music stopped. his heart stopped. then it raced out of control as it came back to life. her lips were soft and inviting. she tasted of bourbon and cigarettes. her hands pulled him closer to her and comforted his broken heart. that was when it happened.
Patrick didn't realize it when it happened. it was just a dulled thud on the back of his head. but he'd work in bars for so long he knew the sound of glass breaking over a skull. his knees buckled slightly. he wasn't sure where the slight dizziness was coming from. the long remorseless kiss he had just been given or the bottle broken over his head. he spun around to find a young man puzzled as to why he was still standing. he heard her call out to the man who'd hit him, asking why he couldn't leave her alone, why he wouldn't let go. why he'd would not let her get on with her life. the first punch brought Patrick back to reality and he responded in kind. the mans eyes rolled but he stood his ground. the second punch caught Patrick in the shoulder, third was deflected. Patrick's second hit connected right below the mans left eye, his cheek split and spilled blood as he fell to the floor. in the few seconds that it took, the entire bar staff was rushing towards him. he spun around grabbed the girl, and ran thru the guitars and amps spilling on the floor from the scuffle out the back door and to the truck. he never asked if she wanted to go with him. he just took her along. he was just as scared as she was. did he have friends, was someone hot on his heels in pursuit? he never looked back. he just ran to his truck, threw her in, fired the old beast up and rocketed out of the parking lot and out into the streets. after leaving the club she never said a word. she just held on to Patrick's hand as they ran. once in the truck she just sat there, looking at Patrick, looking at the blood on her hands, looking out the window.
he didn't know where to go, so he went home. she cleaned the broken glass from his hair and washed the blood from his face and hands. they didn't speak much, they didn't have to speak. there was not much to say. there was not much that wasn't being said in a glance, a nod or a touch of the hand. they slowly undressed. Patrick was beginning to get sore as his adrenaline soaked muscles relaxed. they laid down together, they embraced, and kissed as they drifted off to sleep.
the next morning over coffee and cigarettes she told him her life. of how she knew that if she didn't leave then she would never be able to relax. he would always be there, he would always find her. Patrick didn't really have that much worth staying for himself. his debt would never be paid off and he needed a reason to leave as well. to start fresh. so it was decided, they would start out together. he packed a few clothes, put his tools and broken bike in the back of his truck. left a note for his land lord to sell what he could and throw the rest away.
he asked if she needed anything, she replied no. there was no place to go and all she needed was already in the truck. if anything else came up, they'd find it on the road.