Men Love Bitches, Honey

Good lord, the whole day had been a day.  I'd been caught dragging naked to Cher by my landlord; I'd doused a closeted bigot with seltzer water, and an old lady who had a third grade education had told me that I was her inferior......................Was Arkansas always like this?

It was time to hang up my apron and hit the hay...alone again, but tonight of all nights, I didn't care.  The events of the preceding evening and the queen choking had made me leery of visiting the gay bar, and I was still slightly hung over.  I stripped down and got under the sheets.  I didn't even care about the raucous from my neighbor.  I just hoped he had a good time and lived to tell about it....................dreams awaited me, and I'd gladly eat my nocturnal popcorn and watch the images in my mind all night long.  Sleep is all I wanted, and the fairy of sleep sprinkled dream dust in my eyes, and I was off on an ethereal journey as soon as my head hit the pillow.....................

THUMP THUMP THUMP..............I was awakened from a sweet, sweet slumber by a banging sound.  I wasn't quite sure if it was my neighbor and his nastiness or not, so I waited for a bit.

THUMP THUMP THUMP..........Someone was knocking on my door.  I looked over at my digital clock and saw 2:17 in big red digits.  The red lights shocked my eyes, and I thought that someone needed to invent a gentler color for those things.

THUMP THUMP THUMP.....Who could be pounding on my door at this time?  Surely, Mr. Deliverance wasn't wanting to make me squeal at this time of the night..............but his wife would be asleep.......  Well, he said the manager could enter my apartment at any time, and I hadn't shoved anything in front of the door, so If I didn't get up, he'd probably crawl in bed with me, I thought.  Oh Lord, help me get rid of him, I prayed.

THUMP THUMP THUMP....I searched frantically for something to wear in the darkness of my room. Finally, I found some boxers AND a pair of jeans and began to make my way to the door.  I hadn't lived there long enough to be able to easily find the light switches in the dark, so I just winged my steps....linoleum, linoleum, linoleum, linoleum...metal strip..carpet, carpet, carpet, carpet, I felt my way by the feeling under my feet to the front door and hoped I didn't stub my toe................

THUMP THUMP THUMP...There was no peephole, so I had to open it to know who was banging on my door.  Lord, don't let it be Mr. Deliverance, I prayed.

"You weren't asleep already, were you?" Bart the waiter from Acapulco's was shivering on my front stoop and grinning from ear to ear.

"How did you know where I lived?" I asked incredulously.

"You told me at lunch," he said.

"I never told you my apartment number.  I'm not stupid.  I wouldn't want some freak to stop by and bang on my door at three o'clock in the morning, " I said rather grumpily.

"It's not three yet.  So, is it okay if I do it at 2:20?" he asked and then flashed that Pepsodent smile even brighter.

I stepped away from the door and took a seat on my lovely, velveteen sofa.  I think I sat on top of the Grist Mill.

"Does that mean I can come in?" Bart asked as he stood in the doorway.

"Are you going to keep beating on my door if I shut it?" I asked.

"Yes," he said still smiling.

"Then, come in and shut the door.  It's cold outside," I relented, and he obeyed.

"Yeah, I know it's cold.  I've been out there for at least 10 minutes knocking on the door.  What took you so long?" he asked.  He talked like he knew me.

"Do you think my hair always looks like this?" indicating that I had a fabulous case of bed head.

"No," he said.

"You are right.  My hair usually looks like this when I wake up...right after I've BEEN ASLEEP," my voice got a little loud as I made this statement.

"Are you always such a bitch?" He asked.

"Yeah, I am............so why the hell do you keep bothering me?" I asked.

"I guess I like bitches," he said in the most charming way possible.

"So you spend the night with Mother last night, and now you are here.  Why aren't you at her place?  Didn't she answer the door when you banged on it?" I asked in a bitchy sleepy tone as I sat up and leaned my elbows on my knees and tassled my hair........

"I went to her place last night because you were there, and then you left," he tried to explain.

"I didn't invite you to her house; she did.  I don't sleep there; I sleep here.  Hell, I barely know her..........but I know her better than i know you....Why are you here?" I asked with some finality.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

"Can't you just answer my question?" I asked.  He took a seat on the other end of the couch, and I got a waft of alcohol.

"I don't know," he said quietly and distantly.

"You don't know if you can answer my question?" I was a little puzzled.

"I don't know why I am here............., " he kind of rambled.

"Well, you are not driving anywhere.  You are drunk.  You can sleep on my couch....COUCH, got it?" I stressed.

"Give me your keys.  You aren't going to kill yourself or someone else, " I demanded.

"I've got a bad back, " he said and half-smiled as he handed me the keys.

"Then sleep on the floor.  It is good for your back," I said pointedly as I took his keys and put them in my front jeans pocket.

"You really are a bitch, " he said.

I stood up, looked at him...walked to the linoleum and pondered throwing him out....but turned and walked to my bedroom.  Right before I shut the door, I said, "Men love bitches, honey."