[7] Soft Elbows

[7]

New development. There is a cricket in the room. It won't shut up. Ten thousand chirps so far. I stopped counting though. It is still going. I mean, if I think about it that is like three hours it has been chirping now. One chirp a second or whatever. I mean, I was counting as a way to pass the time. To not think. To also count the seconds. But ten thousand is too many numbers to count. Especially since it doesn't matter what time it is. I mean, in theory it is around three in the morning. Just a few more hours until dawn. I mean, I am kind of hoping the mouse will come back and eat the loud asshole. I mean, somebody walked by talking. Or two people, I don't know. There was just one voice and I couldn't see any shadows. I couldn't hear shit though because of the chirping. It was a male voice though. I don't think it was anyone I know of. It didn't sound like Danny. I mean, maybe it was Danny and he had sobered up or something. I mean, every time I heard Danny talking he was either in hysterics like the Matron or drunk sounding. I mean, hysterics. I mean, I should probably watch my language. For my own sake. I mean, I need to keep my wits about me, right? I shouldn't just go around dismissing people, right? I mean, that is like a female thing to say, hysterics. I mean, not something a female would say, but some way to describe females or whatever. I mean, for all I know the Matron is in on this shit. Like she is the one that gave Sniffles the ketamine. Or whatever. I mean, maybe there is a reason she came into this specific room to take a nap and then fart out an orgasm. Like, I mean, maybe she and Sniffles are in cahoots. And she was hoping he would come back so they could bump uglies or whatever. But since he never showed up she took a nap and then had to relieve herself. I mean, I wouldn't put it past Sniffles, the Matron, I mean, I don't know shit about her. Aside from the fact that I think she stole the dog, JuJu Beans, and is leading Danny around by his short and curlies as they say. I mean, I also know that she farts when she comes and she wears a pantsuit sometimes when the evening comes around. And she is in charge of this skanky motel. I mean, I assume that is the case. I mean, I don't really know. But she also calls the cops a lot. I mean, if she isn't the proprietor of this establishment, I mean, then I don't know what her deal is. I mean, I don't think she is hanging around on vacation or something. And what that has to do with Danny, I couldn't tell you. I mean, but Danny is his own mystery.

Yet the cricket. I wish it would shut up. I wish I could have heard what the guy was saying that walked by. I mean, I don't even know where he went. For all I know he is in the room next door. Or he was talking to somebody that I know of. Like the Matron, or Danny. Or maybe he was Danny, sobered up. But maybe that means that Danny is just faking being drunk. I mean, I wouldn't put that past anyone at this point. Especially since Sniffles pulled that sneaky drink maneuver on me just last night. How I ended up here in the first place. I mean, maybe I am being paranoid, but everyone I have seen in the last day seems like they might not be who they pretend to be. Or, I mean, they are exactly who they are and I just have too much time on my hands. I mean, I have been counting cricket chirps if that tells you anything about how much time I have on my hands. I mean, ten thousand of them. That is a lot of counting if you have something better to do. Like sleep or eat or drink or shit or fuck or drive or work or whatever. I mean, I told you before I have been in jail. And this is somehow worse. I mean, I didn't mind jail so much. You get food a shower, you don't have to do shit. You just kind of lay around all day not doing shit. I mean, I guess it was jail. I mean, it was more like I was being held for some time while shit got worked out. A week here, a couple weeks there. I mean, twice. I have been in jail twice. But I mean, I don't know. I feel like I am making a big deal about it. When it was not a big deal at all and I don't really know what prison is like. I mean, I don't know why I am telling you this, it just seems important that when I said I was in jail that was kind of a lie. I mean, I was in jail for a week here and a couple weeks there, but it was county shit. You know? I mean, whatever. I spent a week in jail in Buffalo one time because I got drunk and pissed on a building. I mean, that is not why I was in jail, but that is what caused it. I should have just taken the ticket and went on my way. I did not. I mean, I spent that week not being able to breath through my nose if you know what I mean. And if you don't know what I mean let me tell you exactly what I mean. The cop said:

"Hey. Stop pissing in public." And I turned around and said:

"What? You thirsty?" I mean, in my defense I was drunk and I thought it was someone else. But that wasn't all. The cop said:

"Put it away." And I said:

"Why, you jealous?" And the cop took out his ticket pad and started writing in it. And instead of just leaving it alone I said:

"You drawing a picture for your scrapbook, pervert?" At that point I don't remember what happened next. I mean, I remember him moving really fast. I also remember my mouth was open and I was laughing when his fist caught my teeth. But the next thing I knew I was inside a jail cell. I couldn't breath through my nose. And for a week I just kind of hung around laying in bed and eating food when it came around. I mean, I think it was calling the cop a pervert is what did it. But still, they let me out. I mean, I think I still have a warrent for my arrest in Buffalo. I mean, I never went to my court date. But I also was using a fake ID then, and it was a really good one. So, I mean, sure I am wanted in Johnson County, but it is not me they want. It is some dude named Dean Monroe. Dean Troy Monroe. Who, according to them, I am living in Worland, Wyoming. I mean, I was sad to throw that ID away after that. I mean, it was fool-proof for the most part. I mean, it fooled the Buffalo cops. Not that that means anything. I mean, aside from having lightening left hooks the police force is a bunch of bumpkins. I mean, the town in puny and shit, I mean, who gives a guy shit for pissing on a building in Wyoming? I thought this was the West. Especially in Johnson County. I mean, that County is famous for it's Wild West bullshit. I mean, they had some sort of war thing that is in the history books. But whatever. I mean, I try and avoid Buffalo if I can, for this reason alone. I mean, that I probably am still wanted there. Even if by me, I mean Dean Troy Monroe of Worland, Wyoming.

I mean, I guess my point is, I don't know what I mean. I spent those days just fine. Doing nothing. Eating food. Showering. Laying around. I mean, I was stuck in a jail cell, but so what. I mean, there wasn't much for me to do, that is true, but I also had magazines to read. A new drunk would come in every night. That was entertaining. I mean, it wasn't like this at all. I mean, I guess that is all I am saying. I mean, I feel like a liar when I say I spent some time in jail and that is what this feels like. I mean, but, I mean, I did spend some actual time in jail a few years later. I mean, with a cell mate and everything. I mean, I guess that is what I mean, it is one thing to just hang around doing nothing in a jail cell without the ability to breath through your nose. It is another thing entirely to be stuck in a jail cell with a blubbering psychopath that won't shut the fuck up about how much of victim they are. I mean, I don't even know. I don't want to talk about. I mean, I guess I just wanted to make that distinction for some reason. I mean, I guess there is no comparison. Because, I suppose, when you are in jail you have something to do. At least. Even if everything smells bad and the guy you are in the jail cell with won't shut the fuck up, you still have something to do. Like wait for him to go to sleep and then day dream about throttling his lights out. Tony. I don't want to talk about it. But fucking, Tony. What a piece of shit that guy was. I mean, if he isn't still in jail he must be dead by now. Or, I mean, he was the kind of shit-bird that will live to be 100. Mostly because he lives off of all the shit that society has to offer. I mean, he just eats it up. Not exactly insane, but not sober either. I mean, just pure shit to the core. Wife beating, kid beating, the kind of asshole that sold drugs he knew were killing people. That kind of asshole. I mean, whatever, I don't want to talk about it. But I won't lie, he was garbage. Pure garbage. And whatever is coming to him he deserves. I mean, I got to stop thinking about him, otherwise, I mean, I don't even know what. I mean, I have seen some shit in my days, I guess. But the shit he would tell me about just, I mean, I don't want to talk about.

Anyway, sorry to go down that road. I just, I mean, let's change the subject. I mean, you can't, I mean, I had an okay upbringing. I mean, my parents were fine and all. Casper is fine and all. I went to elementary school. Then middle school. Then high school. Whatever. I was on the swim team. I didn't do much after high school aside from getting myself into whatever it is I do know. I mean there were a few years when I thought I might go out there and do some shit. Like, I don't know, move to Denver or something. Go to like a school or something. But, I mean, I like the easy way. It is how I keep these soft elbows you know? I mean, whatever, I have had a good run of it. No complaints. I mean, but this fucking Tony guy. He just wouldn't shut up about how bad he had it. All day for like two fucking weeks. I mean, I don't want to talk about it. But he would start first thing in the morning. I mean, the dude must have some sort of whiny alarm clock. I mean, first fucking thing:

"And the worst part is that I my step brother wouldn't let me play the game. So guess what I did? I strangled that lovely cat of his with the cord and told him to go look out in the yard. Oh, man! You should have seen his pimply fucking face. I thought all the zits would just pop out of his face! And who do you think got the beating that day? It wasn't my step brother. Can you believe it? Can you? Can you fucking believe it? I was just defending myself." I mean, the guy would wake up telling that story. Everyday. Like he was reliving some dream he had or something. I mean, he wouldn't even start the conversation with anything else. He would just go right into it the second he woke up:

"And the worst part is..." I mean, it wasn't always the same story, but the stories were all the same. Somebody did him wrong so he killed something. A dog, or a cat, or one time he even killed a kid just to piss his mom off. Which, I mean, after he woke up telling that story I didn't think I was going to get out of there alive. But, I mean, I did. I mean, his stories were very upsetting and they all ended with him either getting beaten or the cops showing up. I mean, I would have felt bad for the guy if it wasn't for the fact that he seemed to think that he was the one that was wronged. I mean, I don't know how bad I would have felt for the guy, he was truly a psychopath, but he didn't seem to have such a good home life and it seemed like everyone around him beat him all the time. But after he told me about the kid that he killed just to piss his mom off, I mean, I didn't have any tender feelings for the guy anymore. I mean, not that I really ever did, but you know what I mean, right? You can't just kill somebody to piss off your mom. I mean, not in my book you can't. Especially a little kid. I mean, I don't want to talk about it. But the kid was like five. And it was. I mean, I don't want to think about it. The kid was just playing in the yard next door to this psychopath, Tony and his mom sent him out back because he refused to take the trash out and Tony knew that his mom had a fondness for the neighbor kid, so he lured him over the fence. I mean, fucking hell. Why am I still talking about this? I don't want to talk about it.

I don't know why this cricket won't shut the fuck up. Where is that mouse? I wonder what Sniffles is up to? I mean, I would think he would be back by now, right? It has to be pretty late. Even for him. I mean, what do I know? I don't know what Sniffles does. I just wonder is all. I mean, shit. I shouldn't have brought Tony up. I think I need to stop talking. I mean, one chirp, two chirps, three chirps, four chirps, five chirps, six chirps, seven chirps, eight chirps...

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I am telling you, ten thousand chirps is just too many chirps to count. But I did it. I mean, there is a little light out there now. Coming through the curtains. The cricket finally shut it's pie-hole. What is up with those things? I mean, are they just trying to get laid? Are they just lonely? If that is the case, I mean, I would think they would go out into the world and look for another cricket, right? Instead of just hanging around playing their annoying fiddle all night. I mean, what a stupid bug. Just standing there yacking it up, hoping somebody will come along. Never doing nothing to help themselves out. Right? I mean, there always seems to be like thousands of them, just playing their annoying chirp legs. I mean, go find something to do, right? I mean, if one cricket is just standing there playing the fiddle, you would think all the other crickets would come over to that cricket and they would all have like a hoe-down or something. Instead they all just stand there doing nothing. Hoping the other ones will come over or something. I mean, right? I mean, you see them. Just standing there making noise. And then you see another one, just standing ther making noise. I mean, they are dumb as shit. If you ask me. I mean, if I was a cricket I would be the kind of cricket that walked around and humped all the other crickets or whatever. I mean, in like some sort of biological way. I mean, is there not one cricket that is smarter than the other ones? Or is there like one big alpha cricket that is going around humping all the other crickets that just stand there yanking their fiddles like morons? I mean, why can't they all just get together and shut the fuck up? I mean, I am no cricket scientist, but still, in a biological way they seem like complete idiots, to me. I mean, whatever, at least the little asshole shut the fuck up for once. I mean, maybe the dawn did it, but still. I mean, maybe when I get out of here I can do some research. Figure out why they are so stupid. I mean, bugs are pretty stupid. Spiders are alright though. They wait around for food and stuff. Set traps and things. Webs. I mean, maybe I am like a spider? Maybe that is what the ketamine did to me? Turned me into a spider? Maybe I should try and spin a web? I mean, I haven't tried anything like that. I mean, I don't seem to be able to move, but maybe I am thinking about it all wrong? Maybe I need to get in touch with something deep inside myself that I haven't gotten access to before? Like, I don't know. I do feel a little like a caterpillar. If I think about it. I mean, I am warm enough. I suppose. I mean, I don't really feel hot or cold. Not in the general sense of those words. Hot or cold. I would say that I am warm for the most part. Maybe I am just wrapped up in a cocoon? Like I can't smell shit because my nose is plugged? And I can't move because my body is all wrapped up? Like I can just see things though some peep-hole or something? I mean, it is already crazy that I am stuck here dangling like a stalagmite in this skanky motel room. I mean, maybe I am in some sort of suspended state. Like I am hibernating? Like the reason I don't feel hunger, or have to shit or whatever, thirst. I mean, it is just as possible, right? Maybe all along I was just some worm in my bodies brain that crawled out when I got roofied two nights ago. I mean, what the fuck do I know? I mean, you can't see your own nose because you spend so much time looking at it you just stop seeing it, or whatever. I mean, whatever. I should stop trying to solve that mystery. It is what it is. There is no changing it, whatever it might be. I mean, now that it is dawn, maybe something good will happen and I don't have to think about things anymore. I mean, so far there aint shit, but still. Things tend to happen in the day time, right? I mean, I don't know what to say. Last night was brutal. I don't know if I can handle that again. I mean, I don't know what else I can do about, but if I can help it. I mean, my god, what am I doing here? This has to be a joke, right? Tell me you are in on it? Please! I mean, it isn't funny anymore. This joke is too much. I would like to know what I did wrong to get me here. I mean, it can't just be the drugs the Matron slipped me. Or was it Sniffles? Danny? JuJu Beans? A dog can't roofie you, right? They don't have thumbs. Dogs, that is. They can't hold the vile or bag or whatever. I mean, what the hell? I can't start blaming a dog for what is happening to me. I just can't. I need to pull my shit together, man. I mean, it is either that, or I start thinking about Tony again. And I refuse. Never again. That is the last time I think about that guy. I mean, I am sorry for comparing this to being in jail. It was wrong. I never went to jail. That didn't happen. I don't care what I said about it. Things are just fine. It is dawn. Something else will happen ASAP. I know it. And then things will get better and I can get the fuck out of here. I know it. I just know it.