1 – Fragment of a drunken man
As I stood, five queer looking butch men glared from the far side of the bar, wearing leather caps, trousers and tight tops…eager to fuck me up the ass, I’m sure. They tracked me with their eyes, radars homing in as I walk to the toilet. I want to flip the finger but figured they’d bend right down there wanting to get right at it. I was terrified to catch glances… I don’t hate queers, except maybe the butch ones that stare and rape and the ones that rape children, I loath those sick monsters, gut them…and the ones that show their rareness as though advert for new fashion or new life statement soon to be uttered from every desperate mouth.
Christ! I hate all these discussions Marina provokes in me, was she trying to crush me out, prove me inadequate, Marina was a lecturer at a local college, she was more like an actress, strong, intelligent, conceited…a fish in a fish bowl of ideas…I tell her, I am all for equal rights honey. Queers have been alive since before the dinosaurs, I have nothing against dinosaurs…it’s just the perv warped inside, you just need to watch them, their perversion, that’s all I am worried about, making everybody sick….she gets me thinking about this shit, battle of the sexes and all that crap, it can’t be healthy, she goes on and on, some bloody academic, airy and empty and wordy: difference is essential, expression and self-realisation are the foundation for all good building…Exploration; necessity…O, sensuality is the cosmetic of the body. Market difference; make sexuality the centre of your self!
Pathetic, I think! Marketing sex fucks you up the ass, double time if you’re a queer …and on she goes…I mean, look at women; they are big time convicts of sold nudity and make believe intimacy. She asked me if I understood her concerns, I didn’t and told her a story: I knew this girl once that made her self anorexic and tried to over dose on pharmaceuticals, I think I was seeing her at the time, I didn’t give a shit, I didn’t know to give a shit, she thought she was fat when in fact she had a pipe cleaner thin frame, should I have told her…? I never thought how much it must have affected her, being a woman. She made her self sick. I thought she was stunning, beautiful, I couldn’t see the problem.
Just look, imagine, all the g-strings that must have snapped within the span of time, the beautiful strain of all the make-up they war-paint on daily, nightly, yearly, forever. Sooner or later resembling some dull oil painting, moaning Lisa style, I seen that once a reprint in a store, she looked quite bored, shy, her face was honest pale, an honest face, at least. I say, no false decoration, no beauty no space to breath, no tits-for-brains, and no trauma of broken nails. The paranoia of modern beauty! Of modern women! Of modern gays! The inability to cook a decent meal, wash the dishes; all for Liberties sake!! The world is full of tits. Like me. But, I am a tit abreast of the situation, a penis cocked ready……ha, women…I need a piss…I must be high already, drunk…queers are queers and rapists are rapists, don’t sell sex, unless it’s with your bed sharer, don’t make woman fundamentalist beautifuck, because their thin their sensitive. Some things should not be sold. Something’s should be for you alone, only for you…God, I sound just like she would…
…As you can see tell from all this airy fairy bull I am thinking, I am fairly drunk, I am none the wiser as to were my friends are, I am sure I arrived here with someone, perhaps my partner, perhaps not, we had travelled a few other bars and she left me. She discussed my loutish attitude, my male chauffeurism or some such. Said I was emotionally volatile, whatever that means, a sloppy lover I guess. She had wide brown eyes. Taught and lectured in beauty therapy. We met at a bar several weeks ago. She was drunk. I was drunk. We exchanged numbers, met couple of times now. She picked her nose, cautiously. Embarrassed me with her educated opinions, I was a mechanic, what the fuck did I care about cleansing oil and female release from Alpha Male, never met or heard of the man…
How much have I been drinking? I look at the barman. He doesn’t reply. He can’t hear inside my head, thank god, often your head should be kept closed. Everything should not be sold. Well, best go for a pisser now, use a cubicle in case the queers try to gang attack my cock, or grab a look right there at the urinal, in front of the mirror, real vanity rapists…imagine!
I wonder, while passing my fluid, dribbling a little down my fucking trouser leg, if everyone has a copy of the bible, does that make the bible more valid? I pause…think to the ceiling…well, hell, millions of people buy the daily papers and they definitely have nothing to prove, those papers, most of them are all pictures and simple headings – The woman with tits for brains, Man gored by a lion, Boy gives birth to his brother, President sucks cock. So what’s my point: that queers freak me out, and just because everyone believes something, don’t make it true, don’t take the bible on its word because most people take the daily papers at face value? Ha, ha…leave Jesus out of this, that’s what I say, I am a little Church! I don’t hate gays, I just lack…like…dignity, not making too much of a loud mouth out… little respect for marriage. Not trusting the paper or the people who read the bible, or drunks or brassieres….!!
I stumble back toward the bar, think of ordering a pint or starting a cock fight. Instead, I slur real loud, mid gassy belch, gesture widely my arm to the crowd of queers and all the other anonymous little dots that sit around other tables, eating bird food and chirping little fucking words, drinking what looks like piss.
“FUCK YOU ALL!!!†I slur
Stumbling backward, door ward, I fall out the entrance, stagger toward a large bosomy plant tub, bump in to it, then suddenly I shark away as though repelled or hit by a car, I trip fall to concrete, smack my head out for the count…
(This needs a lot of work. I have actually started to re-work it. expand the characters and the situation. let me know what you think. if anything at all)