Weird Night

After my post last night, things took a weird turn. By now I shouldn't be surprised, because my whole life has gone weird since I got into this business and moved to this town. It just usually doesn't come in such a large dose of strange all at once.

I finished writing just after seven and figured I had at least another hour to 90 minutes before Sarah would be done with her package. I was feeling a little hungry, and I had people at home visiting, so with nothing else to do I decided to run home for a bit to grab a sandwich.

I knew something was wrong as soon as I opened the door. It was obvious, because I could hear it. Suzanne was at it again.

Kat and Joe were sitting on the couch, watching television in a sort of daze. I'm sure they couldn't really concentrate on what they were watching with that yelping coming from behind Kat's door. As I entered the room, they both simultaneously turned their heads my way, eyes wide with what read as shock.

"You're right," was the first thing out of Kat's mouth. "She's loud."

"See what I have to live with?" I said. I headed for the kitchen to make my dinner.

"I hope you don't mind," Kat hollered after me. "We just started Withnail."

"Fine with me," I said. Withnail and I is a movie, for those who don't know (and I wouldn't expect many of you to have heard of it). It's a British film about a couple of perpetually drunken actors at the end of the 60s. It's really quite brilliant in its own way. It was a favorite among my actor friends in school, and Kat and I have each probably seen it a dozen times. She wanted Joe to see it, but I'm afraid it may be a little outside his tastes.

I came back from the kitchen a few minutes later with my sandwich to join my friends on the couch. Suzanne and who or whatever was in there with her were resting for the moment, so it got quiet.

"That must drive you crazy," Kat said.

"Yeah, pretty much," I said.

"How do you, um, deal with it?" she asked.

"I just ignore it," I said.

"CAN you ignore it?"

"I try."

"I'm trying too," she said. "But just hearing it gets me, uh, excited."

"Tell me about it," I said.

"Poor Max," she said. "We need to get you a girlfriend."

"TELL me about it," I said.

We settled into watching the movie. There's a hilarious scene in Withnail in which the character Withnail (played by Richard Grant) is on a drunken rant about a very large British gold medalist in shotput, named Jeff Wode, who admitted to steroid use. Jeff Wode was a real athlete. I had no idea who he was when I first saw the movie, but the scene is funny anyway. Withnail is talking to a character named Marwood, who is hardly listening.

"Listen to this," Withnail begins with his very British inflection, rustling his newspaper. "'Curse of the Supermen: I took drugs to win medal says top athlete Jeff Wode.'"

About that time we heard the first yelp of round two from behind Suzanne's door. Jeez, that wasn't much of a rest. She was actually home between shows for "dinner," same as me. Usually she makes it a quicky when it's on her break, but the evening was still early.

"Jesus Christ, this huge, thatched head with its earlobes and cannonball is now considered sane," the British accent continued.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" said Suzanne.

"Jeff Wode is feeling better and is now prepared to step back into society and start tossing his orb about."

"Oh! Oh god! Oh god!"

"Look at him. Look at Jeff Wode. His head must weigh fifty pounds on its own."

"Oh! God! Oh! God!"

"Imagine the size of his balls. Imagine getting into a fight with the fucker!"

"Oh!... GOD!"

Marwood has his first line here: "Please, I don't feel good."

Suzanne changed pace. "Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh!"

"That's what you'd say," continued Withnail, "But that wouldn't wash with Jeff."

"HEH! HEH! HEH! HEH! HEH! HEH!"

"No, he'd like a bit of pleading. Add spice to it."

"PLEASE? OH PLEASE! OH PLEASE!" She really couldn't have coordinated that any better if she were watching with us. Kat laughed out loud at that.

"In fact, he'd probably tell you what he was going to do before he did it," said Withnail.

"PLEASE? OH! YEAH!" screamed Suzanne.

"'I'm going to pull your head off"."

"No... No... Oh YEAH!"

"'Oh no, please, don't pull my head off.'"

"HEEeEEeEEeEEe!"

"'I'm going to pull your head off because I don't like your head.'"

"AAH? AAH? AAH! AAAHH! UNG! UNG!" She sounded ferocious as she finished.

Kat, Joe and I were just sitting there in stunned silence. The doors in this place aren't very thick, and we could still hear them breathing heavily in there. It was a little uncomfortable, and I was pretty sure Kat and Joe wanted to be alone just then. But I couldn't exactly get up off the couch to leave without a certain amount of... embarrassment. I wasn't so much worried about Joe, because I figured he was in the same predicament I was and wouldn't have much to say about it. I just felt uncomfortable parading past Kat with a huge erection. To make matters worse, it was caught up in my underwear a bit and would almost certainly stick straight out if I were to stand up without a very conspicuous adjustment. She is a close friend, and I'm sure she would understand, given the circumstances. But still...

Just then, Kat saved the day. "I have to go to the bathroom," she said, and bolted from the room.

"I need to get back," I said, and sprinted for the door, adjusting myself roughly on the way.

"Uh, see ya," Joe said. I didn't even finish my sandwich.

I got back to the station in time to wait another twenty minutes for Sarah to finish writing. I used the time to walk around a bit outside with my shirt untucked while testing myself on the state capitals I could remember.

I was still somewhat preoccupied when I gave Lynn her usual ride home in the Hate Van after the show, but I wasn't so distracted that I didn't notice she seemed a little distraught. Her eyes were a little red, which made the steel blue/gray jump out in a really striking way. It occurred to me that this girl is probably beautiful in one way or another in any frame of mind.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," she snapped. "Why?"

"I dunno," I said. "You're just really quiet."

She let out a big sigh. "I broke up with Chris tonight," she said.

I started slightly. I almost blurted out, "REALLY?!" But I managed to control myself and said nothing for a moment. Glee was probably not the most advisable emotion for the situation.

"When did that happen?" I asked, flatly.

"I went home for dinner," she said. "Chris was there when I got home. We got into a fight, and I threw him out. He wouldn't leave at first, but I said some really ugly things I shouldn've said, and he threw his key at me and left."

"It didn't hit you, did it?" I asked. I was suddenly feeling protective and was really angry with Chris.

"No, he throws like a girl," she said. "At least now I don't have to ask for his key back."

There was a pause for a moment.

"I'm sorry," I said. I tried my best to sound sincere.

"It's okay," she said quietly. "It's been coming for a while."

"You think he'll be there when you get home?" I asked.

"No," she said. "He's not coming back. Not after what I said."

"What did you say?" I asked.

"I'd rather not talk about that."

I would have a hard time guessing the words she fired at him, but I can imagine the tone she used. Lynn has a biting wit that, when coupled with irritation and turned against you, can quickly turn acidic. If she wanted to injure or maim him, I'm sure she did.

I thought about telling her about my dinner experience to lighten the mood, but it just didn't seem appropriate at that moment. Instead, I turned to the radio for help.

"Want some music?" I asked.

"Sure," she said.

We drove the rest of the way to her house without another word. When I pulled up in front of her house, she stared at the dash and said, "Would you mind walking me to the door?"

"Sure," I said.

When we got to the porch, she leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded across her chest, tilted her head to the side and looked up at me with those steel gray eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" I asked.

"For unloading that on you."

"No, it's fine," I said.

"Thanks for being so sweet," she said.

"Um, I really didn't--"

"It's okay," she interrupted. She took a deep breath, stood up straight and looked at my feet. "I don't want you to think you had anything to do with this," she said.

"Oh. I... don't."

"This has been coming for a long time," she said, looking up at me kind of sideways, like she was trying to sneak a glance at me. She looked back down almost as soon as we made eye contact.

"Yeah, I kinda figured," I said.

"Okay," she said. Now she was looking at my hand. She reached out and took just my little finger and ring finger lightly in her hand. My heart was pounding.

I leaned in. She turned her head toward me, avoiding me with her eyes but allowing me a really light, teasing kiss. I wanted to dive in and wrap myself around her, but there was this delicious tension in the space between our bodies that neither of us were willing to break, lest we ruin the moment. It almost hurt.

Suddenly she put her hand on my chest and gently, but firmly, pushed me away. "I can't do this right now," she said, and abruptly went inside. She let the screen door close between us, but she paused on the otherside before closing the other door.

"Can I have a ride tomorrow?" she asked.

"Absolutely," I said.

She smiled. This was a different from her usual smirk. It was more innocent, like the embarrassed smile of a little girl. It made me want to protect her from all the world's evils. She did this cute, almost impercepticle little hop in acknowledgement and closed the door. My heart skipped a beat.

When I got home, all the lights were off. I figured Kat and Joe must have turned in already, so I tried to creep through the living room as quietly as possible so as not to wake them.

You know how you can feel a difference in the air in a room when somebody's awake and when he's sleeping? Halfway through the dark room I suddenly became aware that I wasn't the only conscious person there. I couldn't help but glance in the direction of Kat and Joe's sleeping bag, and it became immediately apparent that something was happening. They were completely covered from the neck down, but from the height of the lump where their bodies should be and the glint of light on her blonde hair giving away their positions, I could tell she was on top of him. They were frozen in place, probably trying not to make a sound.

At this point it was apparent I had noticed them. How do you get out of a situation like that gracefully?

"Sorry," I whispered.

"'T's okay," Kat whispered back.

I headed straight for my room and got into bed. I didn't even brush my teeth. I wanted to sleep, but my head was swirling with intermingled thoughts of the pornographic version of Withnail to which I had been subjected, the beautifully torturous moment on Lynn's porch, and the knowledge that twenty feet away, Kat was fucking her boyfriend on my living room floor.

At least they were quiet about it.