Chapter 23

“So yesterday at four a.m. I’m sound asleep because of course I am and from out of nowhere someone starts pounding on my door like the cops, BAM! BAM! BAM!” Bode says, hitting his hand on the table in cadence with his BAMS and almost knocking our coffee cups off the table.     

“Did it scare the shit outta you?”

“You bet it did, I bolted right outta bed butt-ass-naked and as soon as my feet hit the floor I tripped over a pair of shoes and fell flat on my dick…you ever fall on your dick before?”

“No, which is surprising given all the other things I’ve done to it.”  

“Well let me tell ya, it fuckin’ hurts. Anyway, I’m stumbling around in the dark like Stevie Wonder, trying to find something to wear while the banging continues. I finally find a pair of shorts, put ‘em on…backwards…and then answer the door ready to punch whoever the fuck is on the other side.” he says, grabbing his cup and finishing off the last of his coffee. “You need a refill?”

“No, if I have any more caffeine I’ll be shaking like Michael J. Fox.”

“Ok, I’ll be right back.”

“Wait! Who was at your door?”

“Tell you in a sec.” he says, getting up and wading his way through a herd of black clad Future Professionals until he reaches the counter.

It was Tuesday morning and since Bode and I had gotten to school early we (like the rest of the student body) decided to hit the Starbucks inside The Galleria for a cup of coffee, in Bode’s case two cups of coffee which would no doubt have him and his delicate digestive system on the can in no time flat.   

“So who was it!?” I ask as he sits back down with a fresh cup of brew.

“Fucking Shay.”

“Shay?”

“Yeah, fucking Shay.”

Shay was this tall, slender, model looking Latina girl from school who Bode had been hooking-up with over the past couple of weeks.

However, judging by the tone in his voice, the look on his face and the fact that he kept referring to her as fucking Shay, it was clear that he was regretting his decision to do so and I’m sure it had less to do with him violating his Purity Contract and more to do with her pounding on his door in the early a.m. like some cracked-out Jehovah’s Witness.

“Why would she do something like that?” I ask.

“Because she was drunk…and pissed off. The perfect combination to make you think it’s ok to show up at someone’s place in the wee hours of the morning and harass them.”

“What was she pissed-off about?”

“Well, Sunday afternoon she sent me a text saying that she loved me and wanted to be my girlfriend.”

“Wow.”   

“Yeah, that’s what I thought; wow.”

Before Bode shared his bodily fluids with Shay he made sure to share with her the fact that he was neither in the headspace nor the heartspace to be in a relationship and that anything that happened between them would be nothing more than a friendly tryst amongst two mature adults. 

See also: fuck buddies

Shay said she had no problem with this arrangement because she had just gotten out of a relationship filled with lies and infidelity and the last thing she wanted was anything serious. So it had appeared that they were both on the same page in regard to their casual sexcapades. 

But given the content of the text she’d sent him on Sunday it now appeared that she had decided to jump off that page and rip it into a million pieces.     

“So how did you respond?”

“I told her I thought she was a great person whose company I enjoyed but like I’d said from the get-go, I didn’t want a relationship.”

“How’d that go over?”

“She called me a fuckboy and said I’d taken advantage of her.”

“How can she accuse you of that if you both agreed it wasn’t gonna be anything serious?”

“Trust me, I brought that up but it didn’t matter, anything I had to say was met with insults and accusations.”

“So did you finally just tell her to fuck the fuck off like I would’ve done?”

“No because I didn’t wanna take the chance of it turning into more drama at school.”

“Yet another example of how you’re not as skilled at self-sabotage as I am. What happened after that?”

“I said I’d be happy to have a civil conversation with her but I wasn’t gonna continue talking to her if she was gonna keep being mean, especially when all I’ve been is honest.”   

“How’d that fly?”

“She said I could honestly go fuck myself and to never talk to her again.”

“That Latina temper is no joke.”

“Sure isn’t and it’s not how I wanted things to end but by that point I was just glad it was over.”

“But it wasn’t over because at four a.m. crazytown is bangin’ on your door like a cop.”

“Exactly.”

“So did you let her in?”

“It was that or let her keep making noise until she woke up the neighbors and the real cops showed up.”

“Did that at least calm her down?”

“Fuck no, the tirade continued with her pacing around my living room like a tiger in a cage while telling me I was nothing but a selfish bastard that only cared about himself, his dick and killing the spirits of innocent women.”

“Were you afraid that this innocent woman might try to kill you?”

“How?”

“Oh I don’t know, bash your head in with the wooden heel of her Jeffery Campbells.”

“No, not really. The only thing I was afraid of was that if I disagreed with her it could make things worse so I just let her rage on in the hopes that she’d feel like she was being heard and eventually chill out.”

“That do the trick?”

“Nope, it just allowed the insanity to reach a boiling point where she was yelling and flailing her arms all over the place…and that’s when she knocked over my favorite bass and broke its neck.”

“Your vintage Fender?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, did she do that on purpose?”

“No, but still.”

“So was that the proverbial record skip where all the bullshit came to a halt?”

“Yeah, we both just stood there looking at the guitar in shock and then she threw herself on my couch and started crying.”  

“For the death of your guitar?”

“Hardly. She went into this story about her ex and how their relationship and break-up had not only put her in therapy but also on a cocktail of antidepressants that kept fucking with her emotions and that all she wanted was for someone to tell her she was ok and worthy of being loved.”

“You know, not that what she did was cool because it totally wasn’t, but, I think we both know how bad a break-up can fuck with you. In fact, I’m not even sure why they’re called break-ups because what happens is you break the fuck down, like completely, until you don’t know who you are or what it is you’re doin’ anymore.”

“I know and even though I was super pissed I knew that acting out wouldn’t make anything better so I figured a little compassion would go a long way.”

“What’d you do?”

“Sat down next to her and explained that we hadn’t known each other long enough for her to actually be in love with me and that maybe her thinking she was in love with me was her way of trying to fill a void that had been left from her last relationship ending.”    

“That’s some pretty impressive psycho-analysis, Dr. Freud, how’d she take that diagnosis?”

“She said I was right and that it was unfair of her to throw her sense of worth on me by saying she loved me and expecting me to say it in return or make her my girlfriend…and then she tried to make out with me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, and when I turned away telling her it wasn’t a good idea she-“

“Went back to going coo-coo for Cocoa-Puffs?”

“You got it. Jumped right off the couch and started calling me every name she could think of. By the way, do you know what a cockwomble* is?”

“I do not.”

“Me either but she called me one of those too.”

“Kids these days. So how did it all end up ending?”

“I told her I’d been patient and cool with her given the circumstances but that it was time for her to go and she could do that by way of cab or cop but either way she was leaving.”

“Which one did she choose?”

“Neither, she called a friend to come get her but when her friend got there she just stood in the doorway pouting.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, so then what?”

“I told her I wasn’t doing this anymore and to call me when she was sober, then I shut the door on her and thankfully she ended up leaving.”  

“Have you heard from her since?”

“She texted me last night saying she was embarrassed about her behavior and that it wouldn’t happen again. Oh, and that she’d also pay for the guitar.”

“I guess that ended on a good note…no pun. Are you gonna hang out with her again?”

“Hell no. I told her it was best that we just be friends. She said she understood and promised that things would be cool so let’s hope she keeps her word. All I can say is that I definitely learned my lesson.”

“Don’t answer the door at 4 a.m. unless you’re expecting pizza or sex?”

“Don’t shit where you sleep. From now on I refuse to get involved with another student because the last thing I need is a bunch of drama at school from a woman scorned.”

This pledge, while admirable, would end up being short lived because in a few weeks Bode would meet an elegant English / Egyptian girl named Zahra who was hired to work at the front desk and in time decide to become a student herself.

Bode and Zahra would date, fall in love and in three years’ time move to a sleepy surf town up the coast where they’d buy a house, get married, have a baby and at the risk of sounding cliché, live happily ever after.

As for me you’d think I would’ve taken Bode’s experience with Shay as a warning to refrain from getting involved with any more fellow students myself, but no, I didn’t.

And within a short time I’d find myself neck deep in a situation that was ten times worse than someone showing up at my place at 4 o’clock in the morning drunk and wanting to call me a cockwomble.          

“Anyway, enough about me, how’d things go at Kaleb’s this weekend?” he asks, finishing off his second cup.

“Interesting to say the least, he had his girlfriend come over to be my blow-dry model.”

“Kaleb has a girlfriend?”

“He does, and get this…” I say, leaning in. “She’s-“

“Hey, how y’all doin’?” a voice full of Southern drawl booms throughout the store as we look up and see Dusti and Denise walking towards us.

“Hey ladies!” Bode says as we get up and take turns giving Denise a hug then step back to admire how incredible  she looks.

The last time we’d seen her she was decomposing before our very eyes. Her hair was matted up, her skin translucent and littered with sores and track marks and her glassy eyes kept rolling to the back of her head as she faded in and out of consciousness.

But now she looked fresh and crisp. Her hair was bouncy and buoyant, her skin healthy and radiant and her eyes alert and glowing.    

“You look so beautiful.” I tell her, relieved to see that this was how her story with addiction had ended instead of it ending by way of heart wrenching tragedy.     

“Thank you, Stuke. It’s amazing how great you can look and feel once you cut toxic drugs and toxic people out of your life.” she says with her signature girl next door smile.  

“I’d say so!” Bode tells her as I continue to gawk at how golden she appears.

“After my relapse my parents helped get me into rehab and out of my living situation with that psychopath I was dumb enough to have as a boyfriend. So now I’m clean AND have my own place and I can’t tell you how happy, healthy and grateful I feel because of it.” 

“We’re SOOOOO happy for you.” I tell her. “What’s going on with school?”

“I talked to Rene and I’m gonna be studying with one of the Learning Leaders this week and then take my Core exams next Monday and then spend the rest of the week doing my cutting classes and once those are finished I’ll be on The Floor with you guys.”

“I’m so proud of you, baby girl.” Dusti says, throwing her arms around her.

“We’re all proud of you.” Bode says. “You girls wanna sit with us?”

“Nah, we just popped in cuz we saw y’all and Denise wanted to say hi.” Dusti says.

“Yeah I have a meeting with Rene to finalize my study schedule and exam times so we’ll see you at school.” Denise says with a wink as her and Dusti turn and strut out of the store.

“I can’t believe how great she looks.” Bode says as I watch them leave, remembering the last time I’d seen them together was when they were hobbling out of school after Denise had gotten dope sick and thrown up all over the place. 

“Anyway you were saying?” Bode says as we sit back down.  

“Saying what?” I tell him, still dazed from the surprise of Denise.  

“About Kaleb’s girlfriend?”

“Oh yeah! Take a wild guess what she does.”

“Sheesh, anyone that’d wanna be with Kaleb would have to be into some pretty weird shit.”

“You have no idea.”

“Is she a circus clown?”

“No.”

“A mortician?”

“Huh-uh.”

“Dominatrix?”

“Close, but no cigar. Although I’m sure she’s not afraid of pulling a Lewinsky with one.”

“Wait! Is she a…pornstar?”          

“Bingo.”

“NO FUCKING WAY!!! HOW? WHO?”

“I’m still trying to figure out the ‘how’ but as far as the ‘who’ it’s **** ******, you know of her?”

“Do I!” he says with beaming eyes. ”Did you recognize her right away?”

“No, probably because she had her clothes on. It wasn’t until she started moaning that-“

“Wait, why was she moaning?’

“Kaleb told me to yank on her hair as hard as I could while blowing her out so when I did she started making that trademark moan of hers which is when I had my light bulb moment…or moan it if you will.”    

“She does have a memorable moan.” 

“Yeah, it’s like hearing the voice of god…if god were a woman getting railed.”

“So what happened once you figured out who she was?”

“I lost all focus and the blow dry turned to shit. And the one after that, and the one after that…and still, the one after that. I couldn’t think about anything I was supposed to be doing because my mind was too busy thinking about everything I’d seen her do.”

“Oh man that had to suck! Why do you think Kaleb didn’t tell you about her in the first place?”

“I dunno, I mean he did say she was an actress, he just failed to say she was an adult film actress.” 

“You think he did that outta shame?”

“C’mon this is Kaleb we’re talkin’ about, do you think he even understands the concept of shame?”

“True. So how did everything end up?”

“Ugh, after my fourth failed attempt he took over because he said he couldn’t bear to watch another shitty blow dry.”

“Did you ever say anything to him about it? Like how you knew who she was?”

“No, I wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette for something like that was, you know? Like how do you tell someone you’ve seen their girlfriend having sex with men, women and mechanical devices all over Pornhub?” 

“That is a thorny one. So is he still gonna help you outside of school?”

“Surprisingly, yes. Although next time we’re using a doll head…thank god.

“Kaleb.”

“Uh, yeah, Kaleb, that’s who we’ve been talking about.”  

“No, I mean Kaleb just walked in.”

I spin around and see Kaleb in all his grumpy, grubby, grungy glory waiting in line. He looks over at us and gives his usual “couldn’t care less” head nod then shambles up to the counter and orders. 

“You should say something to him about it.” Bode says with the excitement of a teenage girl.

“Like what? I really applaud your girlfriend’s flexibility when it comes to double penetration?”

“No, nothing like that but maybe something like-“

“Why do you two look like you’re over here talking about me?” Kaleb says, surprising us.

“Hey man.” I tell him as Bode and I straighten up.

“Stuke was just telling me about the blow-drys he did on your girlfriend.” Bode says with a grin.

“Yeah? Did he tell you how each one got progressively worse until it made me wanna barf?”

“I sure did!” 

“Now that almost sounds like you’re proud of it.” he says looking at me with suspicion.

“I think he’s just glad he was able to find out what his problem was.” Bode chirps with a look on his face that says here we go!

“Really? And what’s that?” Kaleb asks, peering at me with his icy-blue eyes through the hazy lenses of his dirty glasses.  

“Well…” I say, trying to muster up my courage. “Because your girlfriend is-“

“Is what?” he says, slurping on his venti Frappuccino.

“Is…”

“Any day now, Simpleton.”

“Because your girlfriend is **** fucking ******!” I say, forcing the words out of my mouth as if they were a rock-hard turd that was causing severe constipation.  

“And?” he says matter of factly with whip cream hanging from his mustache.

“Well, and…it was just hard…wait, IT wasn’t hard, as in my dick but the situation was hard, you know, being in close proximity to someone who-“

“You’ve jerked-off to before?”

“Look, I will neither confirm nor deny that but let’s just say it was a challenge to be around someone who has so much sexual prowess and notoriety, especially when they start moaning.”  

“I really hate it when she does that because it’s so embarrassing and it happens all the time. It’s like a bear rubbing its itchy back up against a tree for relief and groaning loud enough for the whole forest to hear.”

“Why didn’t you tell me who she was before she got there?”

“Because once people find out you’re dating a pornstar they wanna know what the sex is like.”

“So what’s it like?” Bode asks.

“Yeah, what he said.”

“See what I mean? Listen, I didn’t wanna make it a big deal so I just didn’t mention it.”

“Do your parents know?” I ask, totally enthralled by all of this now that it was out in the open.

“That I have a girlfriend?”

“Who does porn.”

“No, they don’t know.”

“What are the chances your dad has seen her in action and has no idea that his son is the one hitting it. Don’t you think he’d be proud of you?”

“Jesus jerking-off in a jack-o-lantern, do you see why I don’t ever mention it now?” Kaleb complains to Bode. “It just opens up one giant can of gonorrhea.”

“Well I for one am proud of you.” Bode says back. 

“Do you think she would’ve felt uncomfortable had I known who she was?” I ask.

“Are you serious? Millions of people watch her have sex every day in every way, I doubt she’d be self-conscious if she knew that you knew who she was.”  

“Makes sense.” Bode says.

“Whatever, is this conversation over now?”

“I don’t think this conversation can ever really be over due to its sheer epicness.” I proclaim.

 “Epicness isn’t even a fucking word. Anyway, let’s talk about what I’m gonna have you do on The Floor today.” Kaleb says in a desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from the oncoming gang-bang of questions and comments.   

“More blow-drys?”

“Without the moaning?” Bode adds.

“No. I’ve seen you do enough of those and can’t handle any more disappointment. I want you to take a men’s haircut today.”

“But I’ve never done a men’s cut.”

“I know, maybe you’ll be good at it.” Kaleb says then pauses. “Wow, I can’t believe I was able to say that with a straight face.”

“Whooooaaaa shit, make way.” Bode blurts as he jets up out of his chair and hobbles towards the bathroom.

“What’s that all about?” Kaleb asks as he takes another loud slurp of his drink.  

“Duty calls, quite literally.” I tell him. “So you think I’ll do ok on a men’s cut?”

“Let me put it to you this way, you can’t do any worse than what you’ve been doing on women. Plus, men have less hair and they don’t need to be finished off with a blow-dry so that’s less grief on my end.”

“Fine. But can you at least assure me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“That the sex with your girlfriend is mind-boggling.”  

“I wouldn’t know, I’m still a virgin and that’s why she’s with me, because I’m untainted and pure.”  

*A cockwomble is a completely useless person (male or female) who spouts constant bullshit. Prime examples of a cockwomble are:

Gavin Newsom

Marjorie Taylor Greene

Kanye West

Gwyneth Paltrow

David Miscavige

Elizabeth Holmes

PC Nazis, Anti-vaxxers & Q-anon supporters.