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Confessions and Boxes

So, it’s Bo Beri’s birthday bash yesterday. I spent the day cleaning the crackwhore house, and eating supper with Special K (who traveled in for the bash) and G. Then, we went to Bo Beri’s.

There was a LOT more people at Bo Beri’s than last year. Last year, there were only 6 of us, and that resulted in Special K and I spewing forth cheap tequila. That was chaos in itself.

Moving on, I had no money what-so-ever. The one roomie that owed me almost $400 had not paid up yet. I shared my concern with Opera Queen, and she was more than willing to share some Southern Comfort and Amaretto with me. I hadn’t had Alabama Slammers in some time, and I was looking forward to it.

Everyone was absolutely plastered by the time Special K and I got there. So, we tried to catch up to them. I was kind of tired, and, quite frankly, embarrassed that I had no cash resources. True, there were times where I have been poor, but not so poor that I had to drink other’s alcohol and such.

Then we moved on to the Hip-Hop, Ghetto Superstar bar. Fun was had by all. I was drunk, and Special K bought me another Alabama Slammer when we got there. At midnight, everyone was dancing, and I decided to give Skullet Man a call. He usually shows up at this bar 12:30 every Saturday, so I thought I would call and see if he was coming. He said definitely, and thanked me for calling. Thinking nothing of it, I hung up, and sat back down with the drunkies.

He and my old supervisor showed up a little bit later. My supe bought me a shot and Skullet Man bought me two bottles of Smirnoff Ice. So, we talked and walked around. Fun, fun, fun.

At around 1:30 a.m., he declares his love for me. Damn, no more fun.

He tells me that he thinks I’m beautiful, and smart, and he really admires me. He knows that he has hurt me in the past, he apologizes, and he’s glad that I have found someone that treats me right. He knows he lost his one chance (though being slightly alcoholic, by knowing that I liked him and still not doing anything about it except sleep with other women, and just being plain dumb), and that is his cross to bear. Damn bastard. He was so sincere, it almost made me cry. Meanwhile, in the back of my head, the bar was filled with more than a few Slaughter House employees and I worried that any of this would get back to my precious Skinner Boy. As I told him that he and I are still friends (he was seriously concerned over that), and that I would always have a weak spot for him but I’m involved with someone who I truly like, he accepted that graciously. And he tried to kiss me.

Damn bastard.

I backed away, and he apologized again. Now, I know what all of you may be thinking: he’s trying to get some tail. But I have known him for a few years now, and you didn’t see his eyes. They were more filled with sorrow and sadness than those commercial about starving children in third-world countries.

At any rate, the bar closed, I said my good-bye, and stumbled back to Bo Beri’s. After watching my comrades roll around on the front lawn (I didn’t feel like much rolling then), Special K and I walked to my place. We got up in the morning, finished up at the crackwhore house, and I went home to back for my teaching adventure.

Missing the afternoon bus to the city (where my ride will meet up with me tomorrow), I phoned Skinner Boy and we went for supper. I told him about my evening... except for the confession.

Wow, I’m keeping something from him.

I do want to stay friends with Skullet Man. And I don’t know if Skinner Boy has a low self-esteem, or is possessive, or what, but he looks worried when I talk about other guys. If I told Skinner Boy everything, I would never get to see, or even talk, to Skullet Man again. And, I guess the bar talk didn’t look as suspicious as I drunkenly thought, since he hasn’t brought it up since.