Jack Tait is a fucker not a lover.

Jack Tait looked out the window of his Mom’s spare bedroom and began hammering his penis for the fourteenth time since he woke up.  his penis was pulsating and bleeding at the same time.  it was ten in the morning and Jack had been awake for two hours.  his head was pounding.  he wondered if he was a sex addict but then realized that he was happy that he could still get hard.  Jack Tait is sixty years old.  he blew his load one last time and then quickly pulled his underwear up before his Mom snuck in.  his Mom was dying of aids that she contracted when she visited Trinidad four years ago.  she wasn’t sure if it was the heroin or the men she fucked but one thing was for sure…she had AIDS.  she was skinny and with each passing day she became skinnier.  Jack Tait wanted to feel sorry for her but she never felt sorry for him and thus he never felt sorry for her.  lack of empathy everywhere.  family can be both loving and hurtful.  mostly hurtful for poor Jack Tait.
  Jack Tait found some old clothes in his Mom’s closet and put them on.  Jack hadn’t worn clothes for ten years but he wanted to please his Mom.  he was afraid of his Mom.  a sixty year old man still trying to get his Mom’s approval.  sad.  Jack put on the small clothes and walked downstairs.  his Mom was waiting in the kitchen.  she was smoking and fidgeting.  she had a blue housecoat on.  she had worn that same blue housecoat fifty years ago when her husband and Jack’s Dad suddenly passed away at the age of thirty six from asphyxiation.  the bed covers smothered him.  Jack’s Mom was devastated.  she never recovered.  some people forgive but they never forget.  Jack’s Mom is lonely.  Jack had tried on many occassions to talk to her but she had a big brick wall up.  she still does.  some people don’t get it.  life is meant to live.  it is meant to explore.  it is meant to connect.  it is meant to be truthful.  it is meant to feel.  it is meant to have fun.  life is filled with enormous opportunities but some prefer to sit and hide in their home watching shitty shows and listening to shitty music.  Jack said “HI” to his Mom.  his Mom said “HI” back.  Jack then said “BYE”.  his Mom said “BYE” back.  Jack opened the front door and walked out onto the street.  family.
  Jack struggled to walk in his tight clothes but struggling was part of Jack Tait’s life.  he enjoyed the struggle.  he had long ago given up hope of connecting with his family and thus lived life for himself and himself only.  he listened to beautiful music and fucked many beautiful girls.  he also listened to beautiful music and fucked many ugly girls.  Jack never discriminated.  he was horny.  he is horny.  always horny. Jack Tait is truthful.
  Jack Tait walked away from his Mom’s house not knowing if he would ever see her again.  they had known each other for sixty years and soon Jack will never see his Mom again.  life is so sad even when it’s happy.  Jack walked and walked and walked some more.  he tried to remember where he left his tricycle but he was so drunk last night that there is no way he could remember.  Jack Tait had lost many bikes, many friends, many brain cells, many sets of glasses but he refused to stop drinking.  Jack Tait knew that if he stopped drinking he would have to live a dull boring life like the rest of the peasants.  Jack refused.  he refused with a big enthusiastic, “FUCK YOU.”  Jack Tait smiled.
  Jack Tait walked to his old grade school, JOHN XXIII, and walked inside.  he looked around but it was empty.  he walked straight to the gymnasium and remembered all the great times he had there.  he wished he could go back to being eight years old again but he knew he couldn’t.  he hears people telling him that growing old is great and wonderful but he doesn’t believe it.  Jack Tait doesn’t like getting wrinkles.  going bald.  having aches.  having pains.  Jack Tait doesn’t like the thought of dying.  he wants to live until he is one hundred and fifty five years old.  he wants to fuck eight hundred and twenty more girls.  he wonders why life has to be cruel for some people and great for others.  he continues to sit in the gymnasium. he remembers the days of floor hockey with Booth and Schuster and Foti and Glenn George and a big smile comes to his face.  he pulls out a mickey of Rye from his jacket pocket and takes a swig.  he closes his eyes.  he opens his eyes and sees all of his grade school teachers standing in front of him.  they all look at Jack with concern.  he looks back with sadness.  the announcements come on.  “Please stand for the Lord’s Prayer and the national anthem.”  Jack stands.  so do the teachers.  one big tear comes streaming down Jack’s face.  he wipes the tear off and then looks up and no one is there.  Jack runs from one end of the gymansium to the other.  he does this for fourteen hours.  he is sweaty.  he is clammy.  he doesn’t want to die.  he was never bullied at JOHN XXIII.
  Jack finally finishes his fourteen hour workout at JOHN XXIII and decides it is time to leave.  he walks out of the gymnasium.  he walks out of JOHN XXIII.  he walks out of Unionville.  he walks.  and he walks.  and he walks some more.  Jack is still lonely.  Jack walks to McDonald’s at McCowan and Hwy. 7.  Forty years earlier Jack got arrested at this same spot for telling a manger that he was going to ski off his forehead if he didn’t leave him alone.  JACK WANTED REVENGE.  Jack walked into the McDonald’s.  he avoided the little babies.  the fat Mom’s.  the uneducated men.  he walked to the front of the counter.  “Would Mike Smith be there?”  he asked the pretty girl at the cash register.  “Yes…one second.”  she replied back.  Jack grinned.  two minutes later Mike Smith walked out to greet Jack Tait.  Jack Tait started laughing hysterically.  he laughed and he laughed and he laughed some more.  he couldn’t stop laughing.  Mike Smith was not amused.  he looked at Jack Tait and said, “if you don’t stop I’m going to call the police.”  Jack looked at Mike Smith and laughed even harder.  he pulled out the mickey of Rye and took a swig.  he then proceeded to smash the bottle off of Mike Smith’s balding head.  he smashed and he smashed.  and then he smashed some more.  blood splattering everywhere.  Jack Tait was still laughing.  Mike Smith was still bleeding.  Mike Smith was screaming.  No one was listening.  Mike Smith was and still is a pedophile.  no one cares for him.  certainly not Jack Tait.  Jack Tait might forgive but he never forgets.  Mike Smith died.  sad and lonely.  perverted and alone.  Jack Tait walked away.  cops walked past him.  he thought of his tricycle and then thought of his Dad.  he thought of his Mom.  he also thought of his long lost friends.  and then he thought of all the girls he fucked and wondered what they are all doing.  Jack Tait walked along hwy 7.  he still didn’t know where he was going.