If It Feels Good Do It

I had been drinking too much. I didn’t eat well. I didn’t go to the gym. I had stopped doing zazen.

I hadn’t taken a shower in three days and my razor was broken. I looked like a Neanderthal.

I was at a club.

I was in a bad way. it had been about 24 four hours since I had been drunk. I was shaky. I was drinking more. I was drinking Jack straight. it wasn’t working. I knew I was in a bad way.

the DJ was playing Lil’ Wayne’s Lollipop.

Li-li-li-li lick it like a lollipop.

girls were getting freaky everywhere, some more than others. this was the silicon valley, this was the sausage-fest.

But this is still California, what do you expect?

I was staring at the disco ball on the ceiling.

Hey Bowman! Come dance with us dude! What are you doing?

I’m too busy thinking about doing your girlfriend.

well I didn’t say it out loud.

well alright I did say it out loud but I didn’t think my friend could hear me. or did he?

Oh shit did he just hear me say that?

I looked at them all getting freaky.

My best friend. That dude has a girlfriend like that.

other girls danced with each other.

the disco ball spun.

Li-li-li-li lick it like a lollipop.

then my revolver was at the top of the ceiling. the chambers were spinning. cli-cli-cli-cli click. cli-cli-cli-cli click.

I closed my eyes and looked away.

hadn’t I just gotten freaky on the dance floor recently?

Yeah that was in Vegas.

she was in Vegas. I wasn’t going to move there and she wasn’t going to move out here. I missed her.

cli-cli-cli-cli click.

my revolver was driving me mad. clearly I was losing it. I had to leave. I wasn’t sure where to.

Later guys.

What? Leaving already? Are you alright?

Definitely not.

Oh? What’s wrong?

My gun has too much ammo and I need to go shoot it right now.

What?! Jesus Ian. Sometimes I don’t know about you.

What do you mean?

What I mean is-

yeah, whatever, blah blah blah. I didn’t even bother listening to him. of course he didn’t know about me sometimes. I was a lunatic.

I left.

I got home and climbed into bed.

I tossed and turned. I couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t thinking about my ex-girlfriend.

Fuck that bitch.

okay, maybe I was a little bit. but mostly I was thinking of the girl in Vegas.

If I could only hold her right now.

in bed alone I was a fire raging out of control.

Why don’t I just move there?

of course I wasn’t going to move there. I had business to take care of.

I got up. I cut up a line of coke on my desk and snorted it.

Ah.

my gun was in the top drawer. I took it out. I spun the chambers.

cli-cli-cli-cli click.

Ah.

then I drove 377 miles to Los Angeles.

I arrived just past noon on Saturday with 500 thousand dollars worth of Columbian white chained under a black Chevy Nova.

Related Posts

• Life With A Loaded Gun II