Does it matter that I'm pretty sure I never loved Tasha? That every day with her felt like I was just biding my time until I found her again? I knew it was shitty of me and I probably deserved to walk in on her gargling with the neighbor's spunk, but it still sucked.
Clearing my head of duck-fucking rabbits and depressing thoughts, I raised my glass in the air with an angry growl and waited for the other three to do the same.
"We're drinking to all of the lying bitches in this world that wouldn't know how to tell the truth if it smacked them in the f**king face. Cheers!"
I threw back the shot and slammed my glass down, wondering why the beautiful girl in front of me hadn't drank hers and instead stood there staring at me with a look of horror on her face. I watched her friend elbow her and she quickly sucked that shot down like a champ. And then proceeded to pour herself another. And another. And then, like ten more after that – in a row. She’d obviously overcome her decision that it wasn’t a good idea to drink on the job. Drew and I just kind of sat there watching her in awe. I mean, I drank like ten times that much tonight, but not all at once.
Half the bottle was gone by the time Liz reached over and took it out of her hands.
"Okay there, home slice, I think that's enough for now."
I was seriously losing my ability to focus at this point. I wanted to ask her if I could suck on one of her fingers and see if it tasted like a Snickers bar. I wanted to ask her what her name was and tell her I didn't always do stuff like this, but she was already walking away and I couldn't figure out how to lift up my arm to signal her back. I stared down at my arm resting on the bar and it just sat there like a little piece of shit slacker. I stared really hard at it and thought about it moving, but it didn't work.
Fucking arm. It must be in a union and on a break. I can't feel my teeth.
"Drew, I can't feel my teeth." I tapped my finger against them. I had dreams all the time that my teeth were falling out. Fuck, what if this was one of those dreams? But it can't be a dream because I don't remember falling asleep. In my dreams my teeth were always falling in my lap and there was blood everywhere and no one cared that I was spitting them all out. Every tooth I touch just falls right out and no one looked at me funny even though that was some crazy shit, right? I ran my fingers around the hard edges of all my teeth.
Never mind, it's fine. Teeth are still there.
"Yeah, I think it's time to say nighty-night and get you home, little buddy," Drew said as he got up from his stool and threw a wad of bills down on the bar before pulling my dead arm up and swinging it over his shoulders. I looked up at Drew as he helped me walk out of the bar. "I wanna eat her Snickers finger but my arm teeth won't feel."
I didn't remember much after that.
6. I Got a Big Weiner
I was having the best dream ever. It was one of those hot dreams where you're having sex and you start having an orgasm and you slowly wake up in the middle of it and you don't know if you really did just have an orgasm or if it was part of the dream, but you know you want it to keep going. I was warm and cozy under the covers, and I slid my hand down between my legs to either do it again or finish it. Right when my fingers started to slip inside my underwear, I opened my eyes and screamed.
My son stood there next to the bed just staring at me. Seriously, two inches from my face just staring at me like those creepy twins in "The Shining." I waited for him to start saying, "Come play with us" in their freaky twin voices while I tried not to have a heart attack.
"Gavin, seriously. You can't just stand here and stare at mommy. It's weird," I grumbled as I put my hand to my aching head and tried to calm my pounding heart.
Sweet Jesus, who kicked me in the head and shit in my mouth last night?
"You said a bad word, Mommy," he informed me as he clambered onto my bed and straddled my waist. My other hand joined the first one on my head and I held on tight, fearing the entire thing was going to explode all over the room.
"Yes, Mommy said bad words. Sometimes mommies say bad words. Just don't ever repeat them, got it?"
He started bouncing up and down on my stomach like he was riding one of those stupid hopping balls with handles.
"Gavin, come on. Mommy doesn't feel good," I complained.
He stopped bouncing and leaned forward to sprawl his body out on top of me, putting his face right up to mine.
"Do you want me ta' beat up your friends, Mommy?" he whispered conspiratorially.
I removed my hands from my head and opened my eyes to look at him.
"What are you talking about, Gav?"
He brought his hands up and put them on my chest, resting his chin on top.
"Your friends, Mommy. The ones who maded you sick," he said in a voice that clearly screamed, "Duh."
I wrapped my arms around his little body and shook my head at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about, buddy."
He let out an exasperated sigh. Poor kid. He got stuck with a dumb mother.
"Papa says your friends Johnny, Jack and Jose maded you sick. Friends shouldn't do stuff like that, Mommy. If Luke maded me sick, I'd punch him in the nuts!"
"Gavin! Come on, we don't say things like that," I scolded him.
"Fine," he huffed. "I'd tickle him in the nuts."
Jesus Christ on a waffle cone. There's a reason why some animals in the wild eat their young.