Leaving the Party

I was quite drunk and standing outside the front door of Karen’s 1^st floor apt.

at about 2:30 am.  Everyone else was inside playing a “drunk game” laughing loudly and throwing curses at their gods.

I was standing there swaying because of the sucking ~ talkin’ art talk with Ed who was also sucking. Madness of the drunkards I guess.

We were cracking up at some of the people mixin’ it up inside. Also laughing at the nosey neighbor spy that poorly spied. Mocking the hidden shooshers behind their 2^nd story apartment windows.

I didn’t give a fuck.

I didn’t know them.

I didn’t wanna know them. Right now I was having a good time leaning up against the building trying to keep myself from melting down into the sidewalk.

Keeping my fingers and my eyes crossed for good luck so’s that I wouldn’t throw up on the spot. And we wondered when our chicks would be ready to leave.

After a short while my friend’s door swung open and w/a bit of the living room light and her music, two girls strolled outta the pad but not ours. They were leaving the party and going home.

One of ‘em pinched my ass when she walked by and said

“See ya later heartbreaker.”

Ya sure.  No problems.

And they drove off.

And I told Ed how she had mental problems she was trying to dig herself out of and he laughed but I didn’t and the 2^nd story meddler wondered when will it all end? ~ Eventually we finished our drinks and went back inside for the photo finish.

About an hour later I was in my own bathroom sitting on the cold linoleum floor feeling sea sick, sweating profusely and taking a break n a breather from vomiting my dinner & guts out into the toilet.

I noticed some of it missed the mark and hit the floor ~

and then came the dry heaves in the killer ribs with my fingers locked in a hard clench holding the edge of the tub and the sink.

Death was off to the side tickling the funeral keys with my heart while I was toading and struggling for a miserly clean breath.

Oct. ‘98

Victor Millan