"The Divorce" by Kenneth Larot Yamat
Damien is heading into his house when his next door neighbor gestures for him to come over. "What the fuck does this asshole want?" Damien thinks. Damien walks over to his neighbor and says hello and asks what's up. The neighbor talks about how he is getting a divorce, he threw his wife across the living room after she came home drunk one afternoon, so now the wife is filing for divorce.
"What the fuck was I supposed to do, she came home smelling like liquor, tipsy, walking into the house like a fucking whore. She's been doing this for months maybe I shouldn't have thrown her across the room but I guess I just snapped."
"I've seen her at the bar sometimes drinking white wine or whatever. I haven't seen anything out of place, like maybe she was meeting someone or whatever. I think she's just unwinding after work like anybody else would. You drink beer don't you, so I don't see what's to worry about, she drinks wine at the bar, big deal. Is it the drinking or the fact that she's at the bar that you have a problem with."
"It's the being at the bar that I have a problem with, if she needs to unwind after work with a glass of wine she can do that at home. What the fuck could she be doing at the bar except trying to meet someone."
After ten hours of counting and bagging screws this is what Damien comes home to. His old ass neighbor worried about his old ass wife getting drunk and possibly meeting dudes at the bar, possibly getting fucked by dudes she meets at the bar. Damien honestly doubts that his neighbor's old cunt wife is banging anyone, but even if she were Damien doesn't quite understand what the big deal is anyway, the bitch is like fifty. And why isn't his neighbor banging some younger woman, the dude is old, so he probably has money, that's attractive to women. If you're unhappy in your marrige you should have an affair because that is easier than getting a divorce. And his dumb ass numbskull neighbor is going for a divorce, so maybe his wife is filing, but his neighbor is the one starting it.
"I saw her once talking to some white dude. He was going on about how his unemployment benefits were coming to an end and how he needed to get a job soon. I don't think there was anything affair-ish about what I saw. Just one person in the bar talking to another."
* * *
Damien's phone vibrates. It's an email from match.com. Match is hosting an event at a bar downtown, a singles event at around 8:00PM. Damien wants to go, but he has to go to the bank first to get some cash for the bar. So he plans it out. He'll get dressed, Go to the bank, go to a massage parlor and get laid, get dinner, and then go to the bar. So the massage parlor is about 200 bucks, dinner is 60 bucks, drinks are 140, so he needs 400 bucks total, he needs ones for tips, he'll have to actually go into the bank and actually talk to a teller for this transaction.
Damien hops into the shower, when he gets out he puts on a blue button down shirt, a dark blue tie, a light blue sweater vest, navy pants, black shoes and a black belt on. He brushes his teeth, he touches up his facial hair, and heads to the bank.
* * *
The bank is a little Chase branch in a plaza near Damien's house. Damien walks into the bank and the line is twenty people deep, he actually counted, and there are only two tellers, one red head and one blond, both female and middle aged. Damien fantasizes about robbing the bank. Putting a nine millimeter pistol into the mouth of that blond cunt with bit titties. Robbing a bank is such a high risk criminal act with a relatively low payout compared to say, selling coke. The cops usually don't shoot coke dealers, the jail time is about the same, and finding a job after getting out of jail with a criminal record is probably harder if you have a history of violence and stealing as opposed to just selling drugs.
He'd start with the blond first, and then the redhead second, and then run out the bank with a bag of cash, maybe fifty grand, maybe a hundred grand if the tellers are loaded. Damien would jump on the counter with a pistol in his hands and tell the tellers to load his back with cash.
"Give me all your money you butt fuck. Put the money in the bag, hundreds first, and no funny money. And don't you even think about pulling the silent alarm or i'll fucking shoot everyone in this entire fucking bank. Now you, you fucking cunt, put the god damn money in the god damn bag."
He's out the bank scott free. Or so he imagines. Damien doesn't have the balls, the gun, or a bag for him to pull off a robbery. Damien is next in line. He gets the red head. Damien asks for 360 dollars in tens and 40 dollars in ones. The teller says sure. Damien inserts his chip card and types in his pin. The teller hands Damien his cash. and now he's off.
* * *
Damien drives around looking for sketchy massage parlors, not a national chain like Massage Envy or Burke Willians. Something sleazy that charges 40 bucks per hour. He finds on on McKee and King. He gets out of his car and goes in. He takes whatever girl they give him. This one is a goey fat chick with rolls on the sides of her stomach and hefty thighs. He undresses and lies on the massage table. He grabes the girl's ass. She has him flip over and she grabes his cock, she offers a hand job for 40 bucks, he points at her crotch and asks how much. she says it's expensive, that it's 140 bucks. He says ok and she undresses.
* * *
Dinner is at Gordon Biersch Brewing Company downtown. Damien orders the seared tuna and a shot of Jack Daniels. The meal is pretty good, so Damien decides to write the place a positive Yelp Review. Damien leaves, it's 7:30PM, he'll be a little early to the bar, But so what.
* * *
There are already a few people at the bar. Damien walks up to a group of women and introduces himself.
"Can I buy you a drink?" Damien says to one of the women, a blond woman in a pink dress.
"Sure." she says.
"I'm Damien Aquino, a school teacher." Damien Says. Damien is not a school teacher, he's the general manager at Idaho Nuts and Bolts, but he likes the sound of school teacher, so that's what he tells women his job is. Damien isn't really looking for a long term relationship anyway, so it's really not like it matters anyway.
"I'm Marissa Knox, I'm an executive assistant for one of the vice president's at Facebook in Menlo Park." Damien wonders if that's true. It sounds possibe. She looks like an executive assistant, so she probably is.
"What are you doing here at this single's event, are you single, are you looking, how long have you been looking, if you're single how long have you been single?"
"I'm here really just to meet people, yes I'm single and sort of looking, I'm not desperate, I've been looking for about three months, but I havent really been trying anyway, I've been single for about a year and a half. It's not a big deal to me. I kind of like being single. The freedom to do whatever I like. My last boyfriend was really posessive and he really hated it when I went out or hung out with my friends at clubs or bars, and he was a real prick about my drinking."
Damien knows someone exactly like that. His neighbor. Damien wonders if Marissa was ever thrown across her living room by her boyfriend after coming home drunk.
"Was he abusive? Did he ever hit you?"
"He never hit me, he was never physically abusive, but he was always yelling at me for stupid bullshit like I said about going out. I'm a fucking adult, I should be able to go out if I fucking want to."
Damien orders another round of drinks. Long Island Iced Teas for the two of them. The continue talking about their hobbies and interests and places they would like to visit. Time goes by and the bar is about to close. Damien asks if she would like to head back to his place. Marissa declines but gives Damien her phone number. Damien goes back home and calls it a night.
No comments:
Post a Comment