Previously, on A Young American…
To start at the beginning, go here.
I convinced Cherry to come to my place for our next gathering. “I made a pretty good impression on you then?” She asked.
“You passed the test.” She left that night and I let another dream overtake me in the hotel room. I’m on the run from a group of girls; all of them I know. Britney, Barbara, Tiffany, Theresa, Janis, and a slew of others that I’ve seen in passing chase me like spiders. I’m running uphill and out of energy. I look up and the moon’s broken. Pieces of it fall in my path. I’m constantly jumping and dodging parts, until the women catch up with me, dragging me to the ground. I pray they just want an orgy, but that isn’t the case. They slam me against a cross that they stab in the ground. After tying me up, I watch them pull out some rotten fruit, which they proceed to pelt me with.
“What is this, a bad play?” I shout, spitting mushy tomatoes out of my mouth. Suddenly, An old black man comes down the hill, bringing a cane and an attitude that he chases them away with. After they leave he looks up at me. Pieces of the Moon continue to fall, and it seems the Sun is behind it. Hot, yellow rays pierce through the holes, and the old man shields his eyes from one of them. “How ya doin’ up there?” He asks.
“Why don’t you come down off that cross? I can use the wood.” He kicks it over and unties me. He bundles the wood together and lugs it back up the hill. I rub my wrists, following him. I try to remember where I have seen this man before, but I can’t put my finger on it.
“So what’s your name?”
“Murray.” He says.
“That’s an old man’s name.”
“And just what am I?”
“Must be excited it finally applies, huh?” I rest my hands on my knees and wonder how steep this hill is going to get and how the hell this old guy went up and down it so easily with a cane.
“Come on, let’s go.” He says.
I never did get a chance to find out where we were going; on the count of a pounding on the hotel room door that woke me up. “Housekeeping!” she shouted.
“Come back later!” I yelled back.
“Checkout time has passed, sir.” I reluctantly got up and put some pants on, opening the door. An elderly woman brushed past me in a huff. I checked out and stepped into the burning bright Sun. I had to get home to make sure my apartment was decent, not that a hooker would care. My phone started buzzing. “Hello?”
“Hey, what’re your plans for tonight?” It was Charlie.
“I don’t know, relax a little.”
“Well, I was gonna see if you wanted to hang out tonight with me and my girlfriend.” I rubbed my eyes. Shit, I thought.
“Yeah, what time?”
“Well, how about around 5:30?”
“Can I bring a date?” I asked. A third wheel was the worst position to be in.
“Um, sure, I guess. Is it an actual date or is it just some girl you met last night.”
“Neither.” I said as I hung up. When I looked at the clock it read 11:45. One lucky woman was about to earn a free dinner. By the way Charlie sounded on the phone, he seemed pretty optimistic about this one, which meant I wasn’t about to be caught dead sitting there alone while they swooned. Best thing about New York was there were plenty of potential dates to choose from. The only problem was how to find one on such short notice.
I wandered around town for about an hour, failing to find a bar that was open. I heard a faint rumbling in the distance. As I got closer the sound turned into the preachings of a God-Fearing dickhead talking about all of us being sinners and so on. I felt like taking this opportunity to harass him, but a young lady beat me to the punch. I turned the corner to see her stumble up to him and let her breasts speak for themselves. I almost fell over laughing at his reaction.
He looked like he was about to throw up. The sound of my laughter spun her around, and I caught a glimpse before the shirt went back down. They were some of the finest on the market. Full C’s that belonged on a plumpier woman. Her nose was pierced, and her hair was dark and long. She was a Goth girl, but less pale. “What’s so funny?” She slurred.
“I don’t think that guy liked your merchandise.” I replied. She wobbled over to me in her long black skirt and equally black heels.
“Oh yeah? What was your take?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “Are they on clearance?” She scoffed and gave me a flirty shove, which threw her off balance. I grabbed her, “Jesus did you use Vodka for your cereal this morning?”
“No, there’s a 24 hour bar right over there.”
“What!?” I said, dropping her. She caught herself and grabbed my hand, pulling me to it. We sat and we drank, for probably about three and a half hours. She was a lightweight. Her name was Lisa, and by four o’clock we were in no condition to be having dinner, although Drunk Logan was not on the same page. I texted Charlie and we met at Outback Steakhouse. It was his favorite restaurant. I was so happy to make it all the way there without falling into a Subway that I celebrated with some steak and lobster. Charlie’s girlfriend wasn’t too bad, and a future, sober me could tell that Lisa and I really pissed her off.
“What can I get, lover?” She snickered, looking at the menu.
“You can get what you pay for.”
She pouted and said, “Aww, can’t I just put it on my tab?” before grabbing my dick. We laughed like two drunken assholes while poor Charlie and Jamie watched. When our laughter died down I could see Charlie’s anger.
“What the fuck, Logan?” Charlie seethed. Jamie whispered something before squeezing out.
“I’m gonna go ‘powder my nose’.” Lisa laughed, showing me the bit of coke in her purse. It was down to just us, spaghetti western style. Unfortunately, a close up of my eyes would not have been intimidating. For a few moments, neither of us said anything. Then Charlie shook his head and broke the silence. “Why?” My smile faded and I played with the condensation on my glass.
“I don’t know.” I said, “I’m a little messed up right now.”
“You’re slipping. It seems like you can’t hold yourself together. You need someone to do it for you. This happens every time you’re on the outs with a girl, regardless of how long it lasts.” He stood up and dropped a five on the table. “You need to be careful, or you’re gonna end up in some serious shit. And no one will be able to pull you out. I’m not bailing you out of jail or breaking up any more fights for you.” With that, he left. And I felt like shit about it. When Lisa came out of the bathroom I saw who she really was, a crack whore looking for a place to crash.
“Where’d they go?” She asked.
I ignored her.
I ignored her from Outback all the way to Penn Station, where she had to be escorted out by the conductors. I didn’t meet Cherry that night, but even Charlie’s brutal truths couldn’t keep me away for more than a few days. My second “date” was the same as the first, a little too much so. I still enjoyed the ride, but the wheels in my brain started turning. As the next week or two went on I found myself wondering just how much Cherry was actually enjoying the sex. And she hadn’t ever come, to my knowledge. I asked her once after a sexual encounter, “You’re enjoying this, right? You’re not just faking it.”
She paused, clearly caught off guard, making it pretty clear that she was faking it, “No, I like it.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s fun to fuck someone young and attractive like you.”
“Then maybe you’d like to do a little something else that I find a turn on.”
“What if I pay you to fuck another guy while I watch. And he doesn’t know that I’m watching.” She showed a bit of shock at first, but then a smile appeared.
“Ooh, kinky. I think I could do that.”
“Could you do it now?”
“Now? But we just got done-”
“The idea just got me goin’ again.” I interrupted.
“How would we even do it?” I explained to her the very simple plan, and waited for her response. “Gee, I don’t know, Danny.” I pulled 400 dollars out of my wallet and handed it to her. She took it and stared at it. I took a long gulp from my whiskey while she debated. “Which bar?”
I took her to the nearest and waited about 10 minutes after she walked in. I got a seat with a clear view and watched as she dragged some sleaze ball over, who was clearly falling down drunk. Cherry was pretty stunning, but she still dressed and walked like a hooker. Still, she was able to woo over a few potential candidates. I watched and drank from my seat across the bar, ignoring a few advances of my own from certain girls, also dressed like hookers.
After about an hour and a half of laughs, drinks, and non-sexual-but-still-sexual touching, I saw her head towards the exit with a man on her arm. He was a shaggy looking dude, with an undone tie and barely able to stand. He toppled to the floor and I took that as my opportunity to get out of the bar undetected. I drove back to my apartment and zoomed to the closet in the bedroom. I heard some commotion as the two came inside. The light flicked on and then off again. “No lights.” I heard her say. The man laughed drunkenly as she led him into my bedroom.
Before long she had his pants off and was straddling him. I peeked out of the closet door and saw silhouettes in the night. I didn’t have my dick out, because I didn’t intend to jerk off. I just wanted to see how much of it she was faking, and now I knew: All of it. Despite the fact that the only thing keeping this guy from passing out was her bouncing up and down on him, she still managed to make the same noises, and the same mannerisms, almost as if they were on cue. Why didn’t I notice this before. After it was over, the man was long passed out, and Cherry helped me drag him down to the lobby.
“Well, I hope you had as much fun as I did.” She lied, “Same time next week?”
“No, I think I’m done.” I said, stepping onto the elevator.
“What?” She asked, but I didn’t answer. I just pounded that door close button like there was no tomorrow and that was the last I saw of Cherry.