Emmanuel and Trisha (607 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.77 on 32 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by QuinnTheEskimo (View user info) at 2009-08-11 03:51:58 EDT
It's strange to be back here again, surrounded by the palm trees I cursed for their homely brown trunks painted with mismatched squares to hide graffiti. Who the fuck tags a tree? I hate this place sometimes.
It's strange to be back in the place I once called home. It's not home anymore, although I know the streets and the houses and the stores, I don't feel like this is my town anymore. Too many ghosts fill all my old haunts. Everywhere I go I feel like I recognize someone from somewhere.
I'm constantly on the lookout for Emmanuel. That rat bastard used to beat me and my friend up every day after school. He even followed us home one day and pelted us with rocks, him and about eight of his cousins. Even in Washington, I was on the look out for him, waiting for the moment when I could have some sort of reckoning with him. When I went to the DMV to get my new California license I looked for him there, too. I was dog tired and on a nicotine fix. I never seem to have enough money for smokes these days, but that comes with not having a job.
My head was nodding as I was sitting in the DMV waiting area, surrounded by people, scanning the crowds for a nice pair of tits or an ass in cut offs to stare at. That is one nice thing about being back in sunny California, the women are all walking around naked as mole rats.
I kept nodding off in my chair, my head lolling to one side and resting for a moment on the shoulder of a short, dark brown Mexican women. I don't think she spoke English, but I don't know for sure because we never actually spoke. I was glad for that. I was too tired and wanted a cigarette too badly to want to talk to anyone.
In my short lived shoulder naps, I would dream. I dreamed of Washington, of my old friend Mike, of my sister and her kids. I dreamed of Trisha. She was the reason for my drowsiness. Her wonderful brown eyes framed by her square black glasses, which were usually surrounded by the pallid smoke of her cigarettes, were another thing I dreamed about as I dozed.
I don't feel like this place is home anymore, but then, I never felt like Washington was home. I feel like I'm a no-land man. My feet itch to be on the road, traveling. My favorite times are when I'm meeting new people and seeing new places, and the only joy this broken city brings me drives a Ford Escort and smokes Turkish Royals.
She is wonderful. Her thick creamy thighs call to me even now, as I write with her in bed next to me. She is so delicate, like the ash at the end of my cigarette, a single misplaced breath seems to be all it would take for her to blow away. Because of that, I am constantly on the look out for even the slightest insult against her. She is the kind that needs protecting.
My number was called and I stepped up the the counter at the DMV. Tired, haggard, and irritable I tried to tell the man behind the counter that the only thing on my record in Washington was a ticket for unpaid registration, which didn't matter because I wasn't trying to register my car, I was only there for my license. After ten minutes of talking in circles with him, her finally nodded and gave me the paper work for my new license. My new California ID would be arriving in just a few weeks.
I stumbled outside and squinted in the sunlight. I had forgotten how hot can get in the desert after living two years in Washington. It seems that even in the dead of night sweat runs in rivulets behind my ears, down the tip of my nose, through the crack of my ass. I flipped out my cell phone and dialed Trisha.
"Hey darlin'" I said when the line stopped ringing.
"Hey!" She said. She always sounded so happy to hear from me.
"Wanna come get me from the DMV and get an ice cream cone?"
"Boy do I! I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Hey, before you hang up, did you remember?"
"Remember what?"
"You forgot?" I asked, sounding alarmed.
"Oh God, forgot what?"
"I love you."
"I love you, too. See you in a sec', kay?"
"Bye."
And the line was dead.
I sat on the curb in front of the DMV for nearly fourteen minutes, I know because I kept checking the clock in my cell phone. Trisha would arrive at any second and we would get so much ice cream, it would be like a party in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon. But I still wanted a cigarette. Trisha would give me one of hers, I knew, but I hated to bum off of her. A man was walking toward me with a lit smoke in one hand. He puffed angrily at it, like the cigarette hurt him.
"Hey, brother, can I get a smoke?" I asked.
He took the paper tube from his mouth and shook his head. "Sorry, homes, this is my last one."
He was lying, and I knew it, but that's not what struck me first when he spoke. This was my long time enemy Emmanuel. I recognized him, he still dressed the same way and had the same short spiked hair. He didn't recognize me, though. I'm no longer the pudgy weird kid him and his cousins would beat up after school.
Trisha pulled up and saw me, so she waved. I waved back, then turned to Emmanuel.
"Hey," I said, "That's alright, I understand. You don't recognize me, do you?"
He cocked his head and blew out a puff of nicotine. "Naw, homes."
"Fuck man, you and your faggot cousins used to beat me and my friend Nick up after school."
His eyes went wide. "Quinn?" He asked. Then he saw Trisha.
Trisha had gotten out of the car and was adjusting her shirt as she walked over to me. When she was within ear shot she said, "Hey, Quinn!"
"That your girl?"
"Yeah," I said. I waited for him to say something, anything so I could cock back my fist and break his eyes loose from his face.
He nodded. "I shoulda known a punk ass like you would end up with a girl like that."
And there it was. I didn't cock back my fist, though. I swung a hard right upper cut into his jaw, knocking the cigarette from his mouth and sending him backwards. Trisha stopped in her tracks and opened her mouth, speechless. She's never known me to be violent.
Emmanuel kept his feet beneath him. His eyes seemed to roll in his head for a moment, but when the confused look left his face I hit him again. This time he fell onto his ass.
"Not so fucking tough now that you don't have your twenty wet back bean eating cousins to help you, huh, faggot?" I said to him, grinning. He was trying to get up but I used my heel to kick him in the chest, then spat on him.
"I'll fucking kill you, mang!" He shouted, trying to stand up. I kicked him once more before he could stand, as hard as I could. Then I turned to Trisha.
"We need to go." I said.
"What the fuck?!" Trisha shouted. I grabbed her hand and led her back to the car.
Trisha sat in the driver's seat and stared at me. "Start the car." I said. "C'mon, I don't want to fucking be here."
She slowly pulled away from the DMV as Emmanuel pulled himself together.
"Did you beat that guy up because of what he said about you and me?" She asked when we were almost to her house. We had decided to skip the ice cream.
"No, I knew him way back in school. Real douche. Hey baby, do you got a cigarette?"
User Reviews
Submitted by haikumikoo (user info) at 2009-08-19 11:42:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Also, "I'll kill you mang!" makes me laugh, a lot.
YOU DIDN'T BEAT UP SCARFACE, THIS STORY'S BULLSHIT
Submitted by haikumikoo (user info) at 2009-08-19 11:41:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2009-08-12 20:23:23 PDT (#)
Ranking: 0
i hate it when people rate my shit because they think it really happened. fuck. it's fiction. fuck.
===
People are stupid, I wrote a post where I alluded to murdering someone, and people said it was too bloggish. You have to write in the third person if you don't want comments and/or advice about your fictional stories. YNH is a cunt. Wish you could come up when Trisha comes, get a job fucker.
Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2009-08-12 23:23:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
i hate it when people rate my shit because they think it really happened. fuck. it's fiction. fuck.
Submitted by angrydrunk86 (user info) at 2009-08-12 22:44:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
ill give you the 1 cuz it was an ok read but it sounds like it was a sucker punch not like he got beat up.
Submitted by YourNameHere (user info) at 2009-08-12 15:36:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
haha the bonds of the chickless below
Submitted by w_t_a_y_s_t_r_m (user info) at 2009-08-12 14:52:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by YourNameHere (user info) at 2009-08-12 14:11:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
I'm not sure what's least believable, that you have a girlfriend or that you actually got the best of someone in a physical altercation.
---
I use to wonder if you were an alter, but then I realised that you are so boring that it doesn't really matter. Then I started thinking about feet or something more interesting like that. Thanks for bringing that thought back, numbnuts
Submitted by YourNameHere (user info) at 2009-08-12 14:11:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
I'm not sure what's least believable, that you have a girlfriend or that you actually got the best of someone in a physical altercation.
Submitted by LoooseSprocket (user info) at 2009-08-12 12:15:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2009-08-11 21:43:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by SPECIALk (user info) at 2009-08-11 19:35:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i like your writing..it's familiar
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2009-08-11 18:33:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Offspring (user info) at 2009-08-11 15:46:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome.
Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2009-08-11 14:55:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by haikumikoo (user info) at 2009-08-11 12:19:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The parts where you're willing to fight and are also good at it put this at something more like 90% fiction, brother.
_________
ha ha, yeah. i almost got out of her car to fight a guy that almost backed into her just to get a parking space yesterday. it was very haiku-esque.
Submitted by PlatinumScarecrow (user info) at 2009-08-11 14:24:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Started off a little slow, but didn't disappoint.
Submitted by HellRazer (user info) at 2009-08-11 13:14:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
He got a piece of that one! It has the height, does it have the distance? yes it does!!
HOMERUN, HOMERUN!!! QUINN WINS!
Submitted by haikumikoo (user info) at 2009-08-11 12:19:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The parts where you're willing to fight and are also good at it put this at something more like 90% fiction, brother.
Submitted by sage104 (user info) at 2009-08-11 11:52:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked this.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2009-08-11 08:33:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Okay, two stories ago. I mean, am I really supposed to keep up with your super fast lifestyle? Sheesh!
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2009-08-11 08:32:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I guess this is a really long euphemism to explain how you still failed that broad of your last story, huh?
Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2009-08-11 08:20:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
im pretty sure its appropriate to say "fuck you, berty."
so fuck you, berty
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2009-08-11 08:14:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I planned similar incidents, but never got the opportunity.
Probably for the best since my planning always involved a crossbow on a quiet street at night, a quick drive, a knife, some rocks, and a deep river.
Submitted by SgtHartman (user info) at 2009-08-11 07:55:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
NICE
Submitted by firefly (user info) at 2009-08-11 07:46:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2009-08-11 07:24:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Pass to the left.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2009-08-11 07:23:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2009-08-11 06:53:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
i'm too high to tell if that was a burn or not
--------------
*cracks knuckles*
The old magics still there
http://www.asofterworld.com/oq-display.php?id=68
Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2009-08-11 07:03:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
DONT HAVE A COW MAN!!
AHAHAhahahhahahhahahahahahah
HA!
Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2009-08-11 06:53:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
i'm too high to tell if that was a burn or not
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2009-08-11 05:24:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Say "yes, Berty."
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2009-08-11 05:24:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Alright, look, I need some manner of justification now. Tell me; after assaulting the pedestrian did you and your girlfriend have crazy hot 'post-violence' sex?
I could totally get behind that you see. That is exotic and terrible. People have made movies about that.
The logical conclusion would then be to cultivate a serious cocaine habit and indulge in domestic abuse. Then you can go out in a blaze of glory; driving your car off a cliff and through a helicopter that contained a man who had turned you down for a job but who didn't even know your name.
That would raise your life to the level of art (in a michael bay, "replace feelings with explosions" kind of way) and render you immortal.
Anything other than the self destruction of a man amidst sex, drugs and violence whilst some guy with a shaggy beard plays the saxaphone in a world where it is always night-time and every establishment has a neon sign would just be tacky.
Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2009-08-11 05:00:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This is, like most of my writing, about 50-50 fiction to non, however, all the things you said you hoped weren't true about me were true. i love calling my girlfriend baby.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2009-08-11 04:14:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I remember one saturday afternoon, as I lounged on my best friends couch stoned out of my gourd, watching some american talk show on daytime tv. It was about kids that had been bullied meeting their bullies as "succesful" adults.
Most of the bullies were like "oh yeah! I remember you now! Man, that was a long time ago wasn't it?" whilst the victims were ranting and raving. Basically these times that had such a profound effect on the victims were just footnotes to the bullies; incidental facts surrounding a rather bleak time in their own lives that they had put behind them.
Not to say that excuses their actions of course. It merely highlights the terrible tradgedy of it all. Just as this post does so succesfully and subtly.
I trust this is fiction, yes? I'd hate to think that you are actually the kind of person that would fall asleep on a stranger's shoulder, automatically assumes people of different ethnic backgrounds cannot speak english or actually refer's to their girlfriend as "baby".
Submitted by Maddog (user info) at 2009-08-11 04:04:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nicely done