Slip Not

I heard somebody whisper please adore me
And when I looked to the Moon it turned to gold

I woke up this morning and slipped on a small puddle of lube that Allyn had accidently spilled on the floor when she was on her way to my bed only a few hours before I found myself with my knees buckled amongst the sticky mess that my naked body was now sharing with the cold morning floor. I looked around to find Allyn so that she could share in this ridiculous comedy, but she was gone. Earlier in the evening I had met with her at a new, and very orange dinner and drink room at at the top of Mount Pleasant. The place had just been built, and the smell of fresh vinyl permeated the air, turning my appetite into a non issue. There was however my hangover to deal with from the previous night's debauchery which you have most certainly read about below. Never before have I received that much mail from a single post, the tally is at 16 emails now. Most were short blurbs from readers wishing me a happy birthday, 3 were from jealous little men calling me a loser, 2 were concerned inquiries into the state of my health, and one had several nude photos attached to the subject line of "I'm Yours." Thank you very much, nice tits, but no, I don't have a fucking myspace account, so please stop asking me that. Anyway, back to the task at hand.

I was drenched in a sea of orange, the smell of vinyl and the lack of food in my body was allowing me the unique experience of tasting my stomach, which was not at all a fitting appetizer. I had just gotten paid, and had 12 twenty dollar bills resting in my pocket, 4 of which I owed to Allyn, who was suspiciously late. When I have a hang over, I love to drink Caesars. Refreshing, salty, tangy, and spicy, the Caesar has it all. The only problem is that I can drink them like water, and I don't suspect that I am alone in this testament. I had three before Allyn arrived, and then ordered a bottle of pino grigio when she sat down. I love to while away the hours in a bar with a lady, and I can assure you at that point, I was feeling much better, quite smashing as a matter of fact. The emptiness of my stomach gave way to the fullness of my wallet, the orange hues mixed with the brown accents, and the white globe lights made everything amorous and heightened. I was having such a lovely time that I had to remind myself that the purpose of this visit was not a pleasant one. I was there to assure Allyn that after some time apart, I didn't want to continue seeing each other, and I had to pay her the money that I owed her. Things got tense, we drank the pinot, and told the concerned looking waitress that we were going to skip dinner and get the bill. It was hard, I could see Allyn's third floor flat windows from where we were sitting, but I new it was the right thing to do. To go home alone, eat some left overs, sit on the couch, and stare out the window.

Which is what I did, and that's where I awoke abruptly on the couch, when I thought I heard my alarm clock going off. It was still dark, and the city was quiet, except for some fucking maniac yelling far off in the distance. It was 2:45am, and it wasn't the alarm, it was Allyn phoning. I turned down the ringer and tucked it back under my pillow so I couldn't hear it. Over and over it rang, and between calls I listened to the mad man, somewhere outside, perhaps half way across the city, screaming into the night for anyone to hear. Just when I thought Allyn had given up, the phone would ring again, and I just couldn't ignore it anymore, she must be in some kind of trouble I thought. I answered the phone, and yes, of course, trouble. She was at a party, drunk, and had lost her keys. She wanted to come over, I knew what was happening but was too tired to fight it. Within minutes she was undressing beside my bed, the moon was full that night, and I could see her black thigh highs running up and down her perfect legs. She was drunk, I was tired, and both of us new it was the last time we would be together.