Post by Jake Wallace on Aug 20, 2006 0:19:33 GMT -4
There was a small general store on Madison Avenue that knew Jake. The employees and owner always “accidentally” forgot to check his ID when Jake came to buy a six pack of lager, and occasionally slipped in something extra: a small bottle of triple sec vodka or single malt whiskey. His brother had introduced him to the owner when Jake first moved to New York in his Freshmen year at Hawthorne. They had been supplying Eric with a series of different goods throughout Eric’s own years at high school, whenever Eric was able to catch a ride into New York, and Eric thought it would only be polite if he passed it on to his younger brother. Whenever Jake walked through the door, Tomaso, the owner, would set whatever he had down and ask him how Jake was doing (he knew his older brother as Jake and Jake as Andrew to avoid any confusion).
Today, however, Jake stood just outside of the store, drinking the last of a bottle of Fiji water. Jake hadn’t smoked pot since the party, despite the fact that he was itching to use some of the stuff everyone left behind. During the post-party cleanup, Jake had swept the house clean of the various drugs and things. He had scored two pipes, a small bit of crystal meth, and a sugar cube that he expected was LSD. His order had even come in from Speed, but all he could think about when he opened the Bible was Wynne. He felt bad about the whole Hadley thing and the time when he got high and jumped on Jade. And when Jake felt bad, he got things for Wynne without an explanation.
For instance, whenever Jake and his friends met at their favorite comedy club, Ely and Troy would push one of the hostesses on him, Nina. Nina knew nor cared that Jake had a girlfriend, despite the fact that Jake had told her quite a few times. Once, Nina spent the evening in Jake’s lap, but when she tried to make out with him, Jake threw up on her. The next morning, Jake bought Wynne flowers. The next time he was there, Nina had dragged Jake into the back room, and tried to unsheath him between tottering piles of dusty Absolut bottles. As she fought his clumsy, drunk hands for his belt. Jake grew woozy and collapsed, sending hard liquor everywhere. The next day, Jake took Wynne out to dinner. He could hardly lose this way: his random acts of love were written off as proof to being a sweet boyfriend.
The Bible containing Jake’s most prized possessions had been duct taped shut. He had done it slowly, painstakingly, longingly. But what would be a better solution to his problem? What would show better his absolute, undying devotion to Wynne than to give up Mary Jane? What better way was there to show his girlfriend that she was the one and only girl for him? Although it killed him a little inside to realize it, his next I’m Guilty present had to be his Holy Book. He could make a big deal about it, or he could simply leave it anonymously and hope she didn’t open it (or if she did, perhaps she would appreciate it), or he could hand it to her in person, and maybe tell her that he was honestly going to quit, just for her.
But now that he wasn’t smoking pot, he was drinking lots of water. For some people, it was gum, or sunflower seeds, or prescription medication, but Jake had been trying to fight his addiction with water. Which was stupid, really, because he wasn’t addicted to pot. He liked to smoke pot, sure, but he could have quit at any time. Pot wasn’t a physically addicting drug, anyway. He wasn’t like Hadley, who probably had an Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor and a Sex Addicts Anonymous sponsor meet with her every few days.
Jake finished the last of his water bottle, then tossed the bottle scornfully in the nearest trash can. His hands stuffed in his pockets, he looked broodingly over his shoulder at the general store behind him. He wasn’t smoking anymore! That could only mean he had earned a little Smirnoff’s or something.
He was about to duck into the shop when his cell phone gave an annoying lurch and trill. He pulled it out of his pocket, and opened the text message from his brother. ”im coming 2 ny 2moro. Meet me 4 dinner?” Jake knew the question was a statement, but he also knew he didn’t have enough money for two nights out, especially if he was going to pay for Wynne as well. Jake hit Reply and typed ”its on u” and pocketed his phone.
He glanced down the street and back up again, about to duck into the small store, maybe just to look around and have a chat. Yeah, he would just say hi to Tomaso, he thought, ignoring the knowledge that Tomaso would no doubt force upon him some Jose Cuervo. He slipped inside, hovering just inside the door, and called, “’Eyy Tomaso!” A small, Italian man with a red face looked up from the counter and at the door, and his face lit up. He waved Jake towards him, saying, “My friend, my friend!” Jake shook his head, trying to resist temptation, trying to tell Tomaso that he wasn’t there to buy anything. By the time he exited a few minutes later, he was sheepishly clutching a plastic Thank-You! bag.
[Okay I’m pretty much totally uninspired, but I want to RP and maybe revive this place…]
Today, however, Jake stood just outside of the store, drinking the last of a bottle of Fiji water. Jake hadn’t smoked pot since the party, despite the fact that he was itching to use some of the stuff everyone left behind. During the post-party cleanup, Jake had swept the house clean of the various drugs and things. He had scored two pipes, a small bit of crystal meth, and a sugar cube that he expected was LSD. His order had even come in from Speed, but all he could think about when he opened the Bible was Wynne. He felt bad about the whole Hadley thing and the time when he got high and jumped on Jade. And when Jake felt bad, he got things for Wynne without an explanation.
For instance, whenever Jake and his friends met at their favorite comedy club, Ely and Troy would push one of the hostesses on him, Nina. Nina knew nor cared that Jake had a girlfriend, despite the fact that Jake had told her quite a few times. Once, Nina spent the evening in Jake’s lap, but when she tried to make out with him, Jake threw up on her. The next morning, Jake bought Wynne flowers. The next time he was there, Nina had dragged Jake into the back room, and tried to unsheath him between tottering piles of dusty Absolut bottles. As she fought his clumsy, drunk hands for his belt. Jake grew woozy and collapsed, sending hard liquor everywhere. The next day, Jake took Wynne out to dinner. He could hardly lose this way: his random acts of love were written off as proof to being a sweet boyfriend.
The Bible containing Jake’s most prized possessions had been duct taped shut. He had done it slowly, painstakingly, longingly. But what would be a better solution to his problem? What would show better his absolute, undying devotion to Wynne than to give up Mary Jane? What better way was there to show his girlfriend that she was the one and only girl for him? Although it killed him a little inside to realize it, his next I’m Guilty present had to be his Holy Book. He could make a big deal about it, or he could simply leave it anonymously and hope she didn’t open it (or if she did, perhaps she would appreciate it), or he could hand it to her in person, and maybe tell her that he was honestly going to quit, just for her.
But now that he wasn’t smoking pot, he was drinking lots of water. For some people, it was gum, or sunflower seeds, or prescription medication, but Jake had been trying to fight his addiction with water. Which was stupid, really, because he wasn’t addicted to pot. He liked to smoke pot, sure, but he could have quit at any time. Pot wasn’t a physically addicting drug, anyway. He wasn’t like Hadley, who probably had an Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor and a Sex Addicts Anonymous sponsor meet with her every few days.
Jake finished the last of his water bottle, then tossed the bottle scornfully in the nearest trash can. His hands stuffed in his pockets, he looked broodingly over his shoulder at the general store behind him. He wasn’t smoking anymore! That could only mean he had earned a little Smirnoff’s or something.
He was about to duck into the shop when his cell phone gave an annoying lurch and trill. He pulled it out of his pocket, and opened the text message from his brother. ”im coming 2 ny 2moro. Meet me 4 dinner?” Jake knew the question was a statement, but he also knew he didn’t have enough money for two nights out, especially if he was going to pay for Wynne as well. Jake hit Reply and typed ”its on u” and pocketed his phone.
He glanced down the street and back up again, about to duck into the small store, maybe just to look around and have a chat. Yeah, he would just say hi to Tomaso, he thought, ignoring the knowledge that Tomaso would no doubt force upon him some Jose Cuervo. He slipped inside, hovering just inside the door, and called, “’Eyy Tomaso!” A small, Italian man with a red face looked up from the counter and at the door, and his face lit up. He waved Jake towards him, saying, “My friend, my friend!” Jake shook his head, trying to resist temptation, trying to tell Tomaso that he wasn’t there to buy anything. By the time he exited a few minutes later, he was sheepishly clutching a plastic Thank-You! bag.
[Okay I’m pretty much totally uninspired, but I want to RP and maybe revive this place…]
