And Now For Something Completely Typical

I think I am one of those people who do better on the phone or through e-mail than I do in real life.

Maybe I’m underestimating myself. Yeah, I’m underestimating myself. Change of topic.

Have I ever cheated on a girlfriend? Yes. Did I enjoy it? Yes. Like I’m supposed to lie here. It had nothing to do with that, "stuck with the same person" shtick that you get with so many people having an affair. I wanted the rush and that’s what I got. This is truly the sign of a person with an addictive personality. I’ll say that because I don’t think I’m one of those “X-treme” types of guys. I don’t need to jump out of a hot air balloon with a bungee-chord velcroed to my balls to get a thrill. Hmmm, well I might try it once.

Why am I bringing this up? I dunno, why not.

Have I ever used a needle? No. Does that leave a lot of things open that I have done? Yes. Are there a lot of things I’ve done that nobody knows about? Kind of. It’s parsed amongst several people who would never be in the same room together. Friends, relatives, ex’s, drunks and junkies (both practicing and clean) put them all together and they could tell you all about me. But that would never happen.

Did I ever tell you about Helen? She was my crack whore neighbor. No? Nice lady, a little out of it, crazy as a cockroach on raid. Once after we’d smoked a couple of bowls and downed some silver bullets, she tried to give my roommate Billy a lap dance. Helen was about four foot six and three hundred plus pounds. Billy was five-eleven and maybe one-forty. It was not pretty, to say the least.

One time I was interviewing Helen with my video camera, for posterity. We were talking about misadventures and the embolism that almost killed her. I got up to go grab some more beer. Actually it was malt liquor that day. Steel Reserve, give it a try, it’s awful. So I’m in the kitchen, come back out and we resume the idle chat. I’m watching the tape later and I hit the spot where Helen was alone and I’m speeding through it but she starts talking to the camera. I rewind to check this out. Her face gets serious and her neck gets frighteningly long as she stretches her head towards the camera. Then with one of the truest threats I have ever heard, she says, “And you will never take my John away from me, Christina Aguilera!”

Huh? I’m not sure where that came from. There was never any talk about Ms. Aguilera or any kind of clue as to why this statement was necessary. For some reason in Helen’s head, a video camera was somehow a link to the pop star and just in case Christina were out there watching this somehow, Helen wanted to make it very clear that I was not going to be hers. My three hundred pound crack whore, keeping me safe from the floozies of the world.

Though I would have liked to have seen that fight. Hair extensions would have flown that day, I tell you.