tell the truth.

Friday night. Toronto. The Annex. Dark. Cold? Not sure. Living on Walmer with Katie. Katie was an acquaintance. She didn’t like me. I lived too much. She didn’t live. She was safe. Serious. Attractive but dull. I would still have fucked her. Who wouldn’t I fuck? Liked her panties. Always do. Girls in panties are better than girls naked. Getting hard.
Friday night. Out with the boys. Foti, Oscar, Joe, Dom. All on the hunt. Drunk and alive. Preying on the weak. Looking for the weak. Searching for the weak. Vulnerable. Drunk and horny. We arrive. ATLAS. Bar full of women. Dark. Older. Horny. Them. And us. Phoniness everywhere. Blurry. More shots. Getting drunker. Laughing. Yelling. “YEEOOOW!” I WILL STAND OUT. I WILL GET ATTENTION. I WILL GET LAID. Pretending I’m a rock star but actually a lawn cutter. Not living up to my potential. Scared. Afraid. NOT DETERMINED. No Dad. Hardly a Mom. Hardly a brother. No family equals no potential. LIFE SUCKS. Except for the weekend. Make believe. WE ARE ALL EQUALS. HORNY. DRUNK. SWEATING. I WILL GET LAID. I WILL GET LAID. I WILL GET LAID. Talking to girls. Flirting with girls. Joking with girls. It was all about girls. Panties. I will see panties. Blurry. 2am fast approaching. Last call. Was I talking to my buddies anymore? Not sure. Drunk. Blackout. Always blackouts. Alcoholic? Probably. WHO GIVES A FUCK? I WILL GET LAID. I WILL GET LAID. I WILL GET LAID. LAST CALL. Two more shots. Two more beers. NEED TO GET DRUNK. Already in a blackout. Alcoholic? For sure. Girls everywhere. Girls wanting to fuck me. Me wanting more drinks. Booze more important than girls right now. Tomorrow morning will be different. I will wake up HORNY!!! Always do. Maybe I will fuck Katie?
The lights come on. Blurry. Drunk. Blackout. Where’s Jane when you need her? Probably having some guy’s small dick up her ass. She probably misses me. I wonder how old she is now. What does she look like? I am getting old.
Miraculously Foti, myself and the gang make it back to my apartment. Alive. We walk upstairs. Yelling. Falling. Slurring. Katie home. Terrified. Dying a slow death. Most people do. Anyways, I’m in a blackout. Always am. Functioning. In a blackout. Girls? Katie? Horny? I pass out. Always. My buddies leave. Katie sleeping. The night is over. Ending in sadness. Loneliness. Desperation. Patheticness. Family? Where are you? I NEED YOU. I NEED YOU. I NEED YOU!!!
“Who are you?” this big black woman says to me.
“Who are you?” this big black woman says to me.
“Who are you?” this big black woman says to me.
I look up and see this huge black woman holding a vacuum cleaner. Unattractive but I would still fuck her. Horny. I open my eyes. Blurry. I look around. “Where am I?” I thought. Don’t talk. Don’t recognize house. On couch. Tired. Drunk. Hungover. Horny. Too tired to fuck. “You must be friends with Dave?” black lady asks me. “No,” I respond. “You must be friends with Lisa then?” she continues. Not scared. “No,” I continue. “Oh.” black lady walks away.
I look around. Fuzzy. Plop my head back onto the couch. Relax. Pounding head. Pasty. Blurry. Sweaty. Tired. Horny. BOOM. Asleep. Dreaming.
“Wake up sir. Wake up sir,” someone says to me. I look up. Head pounding. Blurry. I see two cops. Two white people. One big black lady. A house I don’t recognize. WHERE AM I? WHERE AM I? WHERE AM I? “Sir…what is your name sir?” the one cop asks me. “My name is Christian Mckenna,” I respond. Where the fuck am I? “What are you doing here Christian?” the officer continues. I don’t respond. Not sure what to say. Not sure where I am. “Sir, what are you doing here?” cop continues. “I don’t know where I am. Where am I?” I legitimately ask. “Don’t be smart sir,” the cop continues. “Do you know this man?” the cop asks the two white people standing beside the black woman. “No we don’t,” the couple answers in unison. “Are you sure?” “Yes we are positive,” they answer. The cops now seem a little more perturbed. Angry. They slap handcuffs on me and start walking me outside. I keep yelling, “I know that girl. I know that girl. I met her last night at Atlas.” She really did look familiar. “Yeah sure,” the cops respond. “How did you get in here?” the cops continue to push. “I don’t remember. I really don’t.” “The back door looks like it has been jimmied. You must have broken into the house through the back door.” I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to think. My last recollection being at Atlas for last call and even that was blurry. Fuzzy. Scared? Not really. Not sure why not. “Do you have any identification sir?” the cop asks. “No I don’t,” I respond. I check my pants for my wallet but nothing there. “Where do you live?” they ask. “On Walmer,” I respond, not knowing we were on Walmer. “Where on Walmer?” they continue. “At the top of the street,” I respond yet again. “Is there anyone there who could verify who you are?” “Maybe.” “You better hope so or we are taking you down to the station and charging you with break and enter.” “BUT I KNOW THAT GIRL. I KNOW THAT GIRL. I MET HER LAST NIGHT AT ATLAS. I SWEAR TO GOD. I SWEAR I DID. SHE’S LYING.” I protest. Cops not listening. They never do. Shove me into the backseat of their cop car. Tight squeeze. Legs sore. Head pounding. Sunday morning? NO…Saturday morning. Kids out on the street playing. Staring. Mothers. Staring. Everyone staring. Cops driving. Not far. Twenty seconds up the street and the cop car stops. “Get out Mr. Mckenna. Is this your house?” “Yes.” I respond. We walk up to my place…well Katie’s place…and knock. No answer. Then ring the bell. Kind of hoping Katie won’t answer. Need her to answer but also don’t want her to answer. TORN. ALWAYS TORN. “Looks like nobody’s home Mr. Mckenna. We’ll have to take you down to the station.” We start to walk back to the cop car when suddenly I remember something. Brain still working…somewhat. “Can we try my neighbour’s house? She can verify who I am. Please?” I beg the officer. “Sure,” they reply. We now walk up to my neighbour’s house. I fucked her earlier in the week and never called her but desperate times call for desperate measures. We ring the bell. Wait. Ring again. Wait. Ring again…door begins to open. Me. Two cops. Me in handcuffs. Door opens. And she looks out. Forgot her name. always do. She looks at me. Looks at cops. Looks at handcuffs…”Yes?” she asks in fear. “Can you please verify who this man is?” the one cop asks her. She looks at me puzzled. “Please…tell them the truth…who I am.” I tell her hoping like hell she remembers my name. “What’s wrong?” she asks. “Nothing serious,” the cops assure her. “Yes…his name is Christian and he lives next door.” A saviour. TRUTH. ALWAYS TELL THE TRUTH. “Thank you ma’am and sorry to wake you at this time. Have a good day,” the one cop says to the girl I fucked. She closes the door. Looks out the window. Cops unlock the handcuffs. “You are lucky Christian. Very lucky. You shouldn’t drink so much. Causes problems.” “I know. I know. Thank you sooo much. Have a good day and I am very sorry.”
The cop car drives away. I walk up to my apartment door. Try to open the door. Locked. No key. No Katie. No luck. No money. No wallet. No love. No pride. No memory. No Dad. No Mom. No fuck. Horny but nothing to do. I sit down and stare ahead. I think and ponder. I know that it is the same thing but who gives a fuck.
I think about walking over to my neighbour’s apartment and perhaps fucking her but I am too tired. Too embarrassed. Too guilty. I should have called her after I fucked her. Maybe women aren’t so bad after all.