December 2, 2012
I went to a party Friday night at Pete’s. It was just mostly all of us friends and then some new friends that he’s had that we never new about. Friends from the secret gay life he was leading. How we never knew is something I’ll never figure out. So Pete was talking to this guy for a while and I was thinking they were hitting it off or something. I walked by a few times and…they giggled. Yeah they giggled, new sound to me hearing my friend Pete giggle like a twelve-year old girl. So I thought they were hitting it off, but come to find out, Pete tells me later his friend has a thing for me. Nice. According to Morgan so does Pete. But anyway, so I was like, why do I need to know this? Pete said just in case I ever had any ideas. I said oh yeah I have ideas, not that kind, but thanks anyway.
I spent the night at Pete’s as did a few other people. I woke kind of early, didn’t really sleep off all the shit I did. So I did some more coke, pocketed some for later, drank some whiskey, grabbed somebody’s cigarettes and took off to go home. I decided to cut across through the park and as I was walking I heard some yelling. I didn’t want to stop because it was freakin’ cold, but then I heard one of the voices was female, so as my investigative juices got pumping, so did my adrenalin and then I wasn’t cold anymore. I walked toward the voices. It seemed like there wasn’t anyone else out on the street, it was so quiet otherwise. The sun rose not long before.
I leaned smoking beside a tree once I caught the scene. I began to feel like Humphrey Bogart for some reason, but more attractive. Yeah, I’m pretty good looking, though I’m confident, not vain. There’s a difference. Anyway, turns out it was a guy and a girl shouting at each other. They didn’t know I was there. I wasn’t sure if I should walk away or not because he seemed pretty angry but she was shouting kind of loud and I got the sense she could hold her own. But then he slapped her. Then there was no choice for me anymore.
I tossed my butt aside and I charged. He barely saw me coming but I grabbed him by the front of the coat and punched him hard enough to knock him off his feet. He bolted straight up to go at me but she shouted and then pushed me and told me to go away and mind my own business. I was reluctant to leave and she was trying to manage both of us, as he was still ready to charge me but holding back. Then she was turning towards me, pushing me telling me to go away. I started to back up because it was what she wanted.
I started to walk away kind of sideways still trying to figure out the situation and if it was a good idea if I should go. I saw her reach up to his face to gently touch where I hit him, but he slapped her arm away then pushed her. She fell to the ground and he stormed away. I wanted to pounce him again but I figured at that point, it would do no good for her so I approached her and put my hand out to help her up. She got up on her own. I asked if she was ok and she nodded. I attempted to help her brush herself off because she had snow all over her, but she pushed me again. This time not so rough. Finally when she was settled we stood there and stared at each other for a minute.
I told her my name was Grimm and asked her if she wanted me to get her home or if she wanted to go to Dunkin Donuts to warm up and have a coffee. She nodded even though I asked two questions. We walked towards Dunkin Donuts and I lit a cigarette. Then she told me her name was Dolores. I said, “Well that’s neat, I’ve never met a Dolores before.” And she smiled. She was really pretty. She had a dark, natural beauty. I got the sense she should be treated like a lady. Just like Emma. I should treat Emma like more of a lady, and I try to. What makes it complicated is that I’ve known her since I was 14, so we kind of grew up together, so our patterns of behaving around one another kind of cemented themselves in our relationship. But there’s room for growth, I know it.
Dolores and I got to Dunkin Donuts and I bought her coffee. We sat down and said nothing to each other, just drank our coffees. She looked tired and sad. I felt compelled to comfort her, but there was no way I could, just could buy her coffee I guess. I was so messed up on shit and she looked at me and I think she was looking right through me. She had an expression of judgment, then resolve, then compassion. It was weird. It was like we were communicating with no words at all. I have that ability anyway, being Gypsy and all.
We finished our coffees because I only got smalls which was stupid so I told her I’d get her another one. She said she wanted to call a taxi. I said well there are taxis outside, usually always are here, so she said ok, one more coffee. As I was waiting for the coffees I looked over at her and saw she was shivering. I took my cell and smokes and sunglasses and keys out of my coat pockets, my wallet was in my hand, then I packed all my shit in my jeans’ pockets. I got the coffees and placed them on the table and offered her my coat. She said no.
I took it off and slowly approached to put it around her shoulders and she kind of shied away but accepted. It made me feel like a gentleman and I liked that. I like when I have the chance to be a gentleman. Once I sat down she quickly wrapped herself in it and shivered inside it before she settled into the warmth my coat had from my body. Now I was cold, but I didn’t want to appear to be. We still didn’t talk as we sat there. Finally I said, “How do I get a lady to love me?” She told me to just be myself. I said I’m never not me. She said we all have different versions of ourselves, and sometimes our unfavorable versions need some consideration. I nodded. She looked like she was going to cry and without thinking I reached to touch her face where that guy slapped her because it was swelling. She turned away and wiped a tear. I said, “What can I do for you?” She smiled and shook her head. She stood, said “Thank you Grimm,” took her coffee and headed for the door.
She stopped and began to remove my coat. I told her to keep it. She smiled again, waved and left. Then I felt a little sad inside. Sad for Dolores. Sad for myself. Sad for Emma. I put my head on the table and I never felt so tired.
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This post includes the character Dolores who is based upon the character of the same name by http://morbidinsanity02.wordpress.com/ and was written by request.