Duck!

Duck!

By

Joe S. Thomas

In the early to mid 2000’s I found myself working a shit job yet again. I had to find something quick so I took the first thing offered which was a job stocking shelves at a grocery store. I was living in a basement, living on beer and having to steal a bag of ice from the machine in front of the convenience store to keep said beer cold.. They finally caught on… My paycheck was just enough to cover child support (in accordance with the shithead judge who gave me a seven day stretch for non-payment), buy a few beers and pay a miniscule amount of rent. I was going through the beer and depression with a fury in those days. My life didn’t matter. I hated myself, my job and pretty damn much everything around me. Yes, more than once I caught myself daydreaming about how amazingly quick life can go from alright to absolute shit. Occasionally, it works the other way.

I was extremely hungover and in the process of walking away from my boss, his horrible coffee breath and his instruction in an attempt to get into the back of the building, steal an orange juice from the dairy cooler and try to get some liquid nourishment into my dried out carcass. After popping two 10mg Percocet and sitting in the refrigerated dairy cooler for about 30 minutes I figured I felt as good as I was going to feel so I went to work. All of the materials I worked with were kept in a locked cage and as I grew closer I noticed the lock was popped and a lady with a very nice ass was bent over doing some sort of counting on the floor. I felt myself getting angry. All I needed was some idiot in my damn ear all day asking questions. Right as the anger peaked I felt the first of the pills begin to do its job. I gingerly walked up to the cage purposely keeping quiet so she wouldn’t hear me and so I could watch her without her knowing for a little while longer. I did. She was older than I, but I found her to be very sexy. She finally finished counting or doing whatever it was she was doing when I finally made my presence known by purposely making a blatant noise so as not to scare her. “Oh, hi, she said. I bet I’m right in your way.” “It’s quite alright I said. Take your time. I wasn’t really in the mood to get started anyway. I’m Jon by the way.” “Lonna,” she said, sticking her hand out toward me for a shake. That’s the way we met. Sometimes it just comes that easily. She worked for a company that had a contract with our company to peddle their wares in our store which meant I would be seeing her twice a week so she could stock our store. It took a couple of visits but I finally got the nerve up to ask her if she would like to go out sometime. She smiled beautifully, her face a bit red as she answered “yes, I would love to.” We exchanged phone numbers and began speaking over the phone that evening.

After a few phone calls and texts we got to know each other and set up our first date. I had just flipped my car a few weeks previous to meeting Lonna so it was decided she would pick me up and we would go downtown for a bite and then see what happened. I sat in my living room chasing pain pills with beer as my nerves were beginning to feel much better. By the time she arrived at my place I had a pretty good buzz rolling. 

 I’m a different human being when I’m drunk. Drinking was necessary at one time in my life for me to go and do anything social. I did not feel at home in my skin until alcohol was running through me. I had a personality while drinking, apparently, and according to some women, I’m charming. Without drink, I’m a recluse dealing with constant panic attacks and depression. In those days, if I wasn’t at work I had a drink in my hand. Thus, Lonna really only met the drinking side of me away from the few minutes I saw her at the workplace. I made sure of it. I can’t remember now how I pulled it off but each time she came over I had her bring alcohol. She always did. She seemed to always pay for everything. I think maybe she was trying to compensate for our age difference but quite honestly it worked out well. We were both going through very sexual times in our lives apparently. We fucked that first night. We didn’t make love and I’m not trying to be rude, but fuck is the best word to describe what we did and generally what the relationship was about. At least in my mind. She certainly didn’t complain. In fact, it was clear that she was having more serious feelings for me but I didn’t want to be serious. Honestly, after realizing she was having stronger feelings for me I knew it had to end and I truly don’t enjoy the act of these ends… I’ve been through more than one.

Things kept up for a couple of months and Lonna continued to wine and dine me on her dime, she spent the night anytime I wanted which was a lot when I was drunk. Sober, I could hardly bring myself to speak to anyone on the phone. She continued to pour out love that I took for granted. She encouraged my writing and music, bought me great books and gifts in general and really enjoyed showing she cared by being a giver and I sincerely appreciated it. However, the age difference started to get to me. I would awake in the morning hungover on the nights she stayed and stare at her sleeping before I attempted a shower. I couldn’t help but notice the lines on her face as she lay there in a perfect slumber as I judged her for something beyond her control.

After being disturbed by the age difference and having it constantly in the back of my mind now, I called up an old high school girlfriend and began a sexual relationship with her unbeknownst to Lonna of course. She wasn’t that cool… Now, I had two women, a drinking problem and a heart that sincerely didn’t want to hurt anyone. Instead of breaking it off with Lonna, I tried to have two women which for me, never works out. Hell, it never works out with one… But, I kept up with the two for as long as I could before the inevitable end.

One evening I’d invited Lonna over to my sister’s for dinner. She had brought some drinks for everyone so we were all sitting around playing a board game, drinking, laughing and generally having a good time. Lonna excused herself to go downstairs to my room to get something from her purse and to use the restroom. She gave me a peck on the cheek as she walked past and I couldn’t help thinking how good it all felt. None of us seemed to realize it but Lonna had been gone for quite a while. When she finally returned, she had a look of sick confusion on her face. She also started doing tequila shots like the most professional of professional alcoholics. It was clear as a bell that something was angering her but I didn’t want to ask in front of the whole table. As the night wore on the tequila really started doing it’s thing on Lonna. She started having ugly drunk face as I like to call it. It’s the angered face of a drunk that’s ready to fight anybody for anything, but they look confused as shit about everything. I decided we’d probably better call it a night so I told my sister and her husband that we were retiring for the evening and we began the trip down the stairs. I wasn’t exactly sober and she was shit hammered. She attempted to tell the others good night but her brain seemed incapable of forming a coherent sentence. As she stood from her seat she nearly fell over and with a sick sounding thud she dropped back into the hard, wooden chair. I’m really not sure how, but we made it back downstairs to where I was hoping to just fall out and let her sleep this thing off. I regret to inform you, this is not what happened.

Downstairs I had a chest of drawers. In the bottom drawer is where I kept things over the years from other girlfriends and people that meant something to me. There are many, many interesting items in said drawer up to and including the panties of other women I’d been with in the past… and present. As I turned the corner holding Lonna up the best I could, I noticed the bottom drawer pulled out of my chest of drawers. Now it clicked. This is why she’s drinking like a fool. She’s angry, hurt and rightly so I suppose. I let her go and went to the bathroom to piss before we got into whatever was about to go down. I pissed, washed up and opened the door to find Lonna naked and leering at me with eyes that clearly read KILL. 

I’ve always enjoyed candles. I enjoy the mood they set, the scents they put off and the shadows they can sometimes cast and make you dream. Yes… candles…

I started out of the bathroom to go and sit on the bed beside Lonna and have this event unfold however it was going to unfold. As I walked toward her I noticed a pair of panties neatly folded on top of everything else in the drawer. This angered me. Regardless of who you are, I do not appreciate nor allow other people to rifle through any of my belongings muchless the things I consider private. It was with this mind frame that I began to speak but before I could say anything Lonna jumped up off the bed stark naked and began trying to grind on me while asking “you want some pussy!? You want some pussy!?” I was more than shocked and asked what the fuck she thought she was doing. “Isn’t this what you want, huh!?” “No, I’d like for you to sit your crazy, drunk ass down.” She continued her sloppy, sad, drunken grinding on any part of my body that got close to her. I was becoming angry but trying to control the situation at the same time. There’s no controlling Tequila. Suddenly tears started coming from her eyes as she began taking blind, enraged swings at me. I was drunk, but I was still able to either get out of the way or at least restrain her from hitting me in the face. “Let me go goddammit,” she said. “Not until you can calm yourself down and speak instead of trying to hit me. Can you do that? Can we talk about it?” I asked.  

In my heart, I knew this was the last night I would ever see Lonna. The age thing had eventually proved too much for me and she was obviously too hurt to ever get past this incident and I can’t really blame her. Oh, the panties that were folded and on top of everything else were a new pair that my new fling had left for me. And somehow, she knew it.

I let go of Lonna just to let this ugly scene play out and get it over with. My love of candles could have quite literally been the end of me. As I said I had let go of Lonna and turned my back on her which was a huge mistake. She picked up the biggest, heaviest, lit candle in a glass jar and hurled it as hard as she could at my head. Luckily I’d turned in time to see the object of my near death sail past my face and shatter against the wall leaving hot, red, wax dripping from me and everything else in its path. I was absolutely enraged. I have never hit a woman. I don’t think it should be done but I will restrain one from doing me bodily harm. I must have looked psychotic as I grabbed her shoulders because I have never seen fear in someone’s eyes like I saw in hers. I suppose she thought I was going to physically harm her. I just wanted her to calm down before she hurt herself. There was hot wax and busted glass everywhere. As soon as I thought it was safe to do so I let her go. She grabbed up her purse and ran out the door stark naked. The last thing I remember was her white ass jiggling toward her car as our dog frolicked around her making the whole scene even more absurd than it already was. I slammed the door, cleaned up the mess she’d caused the best I could and fell asleep. I never spoke to Lonna again. It was as if we’d suddenly never met…

Later on I heard she made it as far as the convenience store down the road still buck ass naked where she called her oldest daughter to come and drive her drunk ass home.

Later, later on, I was dating the girl whose panties signaled the end of Lonna and me and we decided to rent a movie from Blockbuster when they still existed. I sat in the car and let her go in to choose the movie. I was digging in my pocket for a cigarette when suddenly I looked up and just beyond the glass I saw Lonna with her head on the shoulder of some guy her age in a Jimmy Buffett style shirt standing behind my new girlfriend as they all waited to check out. All I could think was DUCK! Thank you Lonna, sincerely. I wish you the best.