Beautiful Blemish Read Online Free Page B

me. Once, in the city, when I was walking to work, someone came up to me and said: “You are the unslickest motherfucker I have ever seen.” Then he calmly crossed the street while flipping off all the cars. It made my day glow with a happy tint.
We had some people over to the house recently and I couldn’t stop saying that. “You are the unslickest motherfucker I have ever seen.” Everyone was gone before dessert.
 
VI.
They say the house around the corner from ours is a crack house or a speed house. But don’t they always?
     I wanted to say hello, slightly high on the feeling of being “the new folks.” A slow young girl answered the door and asked me to help her with her Spanish homework. I don’t know Spanish but I went in anyway, out of curiosity more than anything else. I helped her with two of the easy words but floundered when I only could only count to six. She offered me a Mountain Dew. I noticed the fridge was nearly empty.
 
VII.
I had a dream that I became really concerned about smells. I started to buy air freshener spray for the bathroom and incense for the living room. My wife would smoke pot and I would spray lemon water on the couch when she wasn’t looking. I looked in the mirror and noticed that I had Michael Jackson’s new nose.
 
VIII.
I don’t let my son play with the other neighbor kids. One of them always has a cast. I believe the ten-year-old twins across the street smoke cloves.
My son is still innocent. He calls his penis his “private.” Sometimes we play baseball in our front yard. His goal is to someday break someone’s window with a home run.
 

 
Stuck
 
     Lisa calls me from the party at
3 a
.m.
I am counting cigarettes and running water into the mop bucket.
     "I'm at Jimmy's now," she tells me. I hear Prince in the background. "I keep asking people to take me to your store, but they're all drunk."
     "And what about you?" I ask.
     "I dropped acid at 10." She laughs just a little, her mouth away from the phone. "How is work going?" She is trying to get me to talk.
     I dodge the question, irritated by her giggling. "Who else is there?"
     She seems to have dropped the phone or something. Her voice is heard saying a name, but it is far away, barely audible: "Jimmy. Yeah. Jimmy. Not... bu - mermserr err semm mu ..." She laughs again, picks up the phone. "Jimmy's trying to kiss my pussy. He says it's like a little fruit. Oh, I wish I could come see you."
     I hear the phone fall again, this time not so far from her mouth. Is she lying on the floor? I say her name but she is talking to Jimmy again, asking for a ride ( pleeeease ) in that little girl voice. He says something back to her in a scalding tone.
     I can picture them on the floor in some bedroom, his head burrowing between her skirted legs.
     "I'm not the bad guy. Don't think I'm the bad guy." I'm guessing this is Jimmy's voice on the phone now. "It's just that everyone's either drunk or on acid. I'd say she should wait about two hours for someone to sober up... Hello?"
     "Okay, whatever," I tell him, "just let me talk to Lisa."
     The phone goes on the floor again. I'm looking for soap for the mop bucket. A customer comes in the store, asks me for "Camel, box." I take his money with the phone still pressed to my ear. I hear them talking in short sentences... on the floor... him at her feet. Something is thrown over the phone. A blanket or a shirt. I hear the volume of the music cut in half. Lisa is gasping or laughing or crying or breathing hard.
     I'm tired and can't wait to get off work. I feel more annoyed than jealous, but I slip off mentally and lock my stare on a Slurpy machine, memories of Lisa and me on all-night acid trips together. She is so skinny. Something about her skinniness made me want to stick her entirely in my mouth, like a shark swallowing a Barbie doll. I licked her pussy for a long time. It seemed so tiny and