Here's an excerpt from Die Like A Man....

It’s What We Do     

I was hunkered down over a patty melt while Crow devoured a cheeseburger. The waitress came around and put a fresh blue pitcher of coffee on our table and we both quickly refilled our cups greedily. Through mouths full of fries and greasy beef we complained loudly about women and art and women and money and women. We didn’t pay attention to the wave of people rolling in now that the singles club across the street had had last call and turned the middle age drunks loose on the unsuspecting city in the wee hours of the morning. To my left was the glass partition and particle board wall that separated our booth from our neighbors’ who were just being seated. “It’s a disgrace, a fucking disgrace..!” Crow grumbled as he poured the fifth little cup of creamer into his cup. I sat my cup down and pointed at him, “You’re damn right it is.” He tossed his spoon on the table. “He actually requested a Bob Seeger tune!” I shook my head, “a disgrace.” We were suddenly, forcibly, made acutely aware of our neighbors; two bottle blonde bimbos, pushing fifty, dressing twenty, acting high school-hair teased two stories high, make up/cover up, red, RED, lips, teeth stained, gloss and nicotine. Taptaptapping the glass, smiling hungrily, “Hey, ya’ll! How’s it going? Whatchya’ll doin’?” Crow and I looked to each other then back to them. Crow chuckled and knocked the glass, “Dig it; White Trash Aquarium.” I nearly choked on my coffee. “Whaaat? What’d he saaay? What’s so funny?” We rose, finishing our cups and wiping our mouths. I blew them a kiss and threw some singles on the table for the waitress. We paid the hostess and stepped outside. I lit a Lucky and held the lighter for Crow and we went to the back of the lot where my Pontiac was parked. By the dumpster a rookie drunk was blowing the night’s sin and chicken sandwich against the side of the building. I’d been there. Recently. We got in, I cranked the ignition and we sped out onto Kingston Pike heading West. We were on the hunt for friendly female companionship and we knew at this hour our pickings would be slim. We drove past a theater and shopping center, all dark, and headed up a little back road to our friend’s apartment complex. We pulled into a spot below Sonia’s window and could see her walking around with all the lights on. I got the rum out of the backseat and we sprinted up the metal steps and knocked on the door. We could hear “Turn The Page” on her stereo and Crow stuck his finger in his mouth. “Who is it?” “Rum delivery!” She opened the door laughing, I swept her in my arms and kissed her cheek, spun her around, giving her to Crow and walked into her braless, pantless date who was rising from the couch with a bemused smile. “Ahhh, I’d forgotten you had a hot date tonight, my dear.” “Real hot,” Crow commented. The date flushed, keeping the smile. “The word is tact, young man. I’m sorry…” “Scarlet.” “Scarlet, Crow here has no filter between the hours of four pm and four pm. Forgive our intrusion, Sonia, the Captain here,” I held up the bottle, “requested to see you, but I think he’ll understand.”  Sonia took the bottle from my hand, “How funny, we were just complaining about having no booze and the liquor stores being closed.” “Then it’s divine providence we’ve appeared out of the night with rescue from sobriety!” “Here here!” Shouted Sonia already getting glasses down from the cabinet. Crow and I were mesmerized by the swing of Scarlet’s big ass in her little panties. She opened the fridge and bent over to get the soda from the bottom shelf. A dry, DRY, month we’d both been having, and tonight’s gig for Crow had been an exercise in how not to do a show. I’d spent the night at a table in the back trying to make head way with a foreigner, who laughed at all my jokes, and told me repeatedly how sweet I was and still left with someone else. As SHE walked out, some bald goon in a bad suit stood up and yelled for the band to play some “SEEGER!” while they were winding down “So What”. We were desperate for some female attention. Sonia caught my eye and smiled slyly, nodded at Scarlet behind her back, gave me the peace sign and stuck her tongue between her fingers and rolled her eyes back in her head. Crow fell into me giggling uncontrollably. Scarlet turned around, big old smile, “What’s so funny?” Crow rubbed his face and I shoved him off me. “He gets silly when he’s been up for more than three days, sorry.” Sonia pointed at me, “OH! Sorry, this is that guy I was telling you about; Scratch. And that’s his roommate Crow.” “Oh, funny, Sonia was just telling me about you.” “Must have been the ‘dare’ story…” “IT WAS! Too funny.” “I’m hilarious.” I shot a look of good humored disappointment at Sonia and she gave me puppy dog eyes. “What’s the dare story,” Crow asked, taking the glass from Scarlet. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” The girls laughed. We settled around the living room and got down to the business of getting drunk. Crow walked over to the stereo, “May I?” “Help yourself.” He studied the cds and cassettes and after five minutes of deliberation said “AHA!” And put on Morphine’s “Cure For Pain”. Everyone approved. Sonia reached up from the couch and turned off the overhead light, leaving a corner lamp and some candles as the only light in the living room, then snuggled up with Scarlet. Crow, tactless opportunistic bastard, sat on the other side of Scarlet, while I got me the big comfy chair across the coffee table. We swapped stories and got acquainted with Scarlet. Sonia and I went back a few years and she’d gotten to know Crow in recent months. I kept everyone’s glasses full and we all got sloppy. In lulls of conversation the ladies made out and Crow and I stayed silent as church mice, hoping to be completely forgotten or completely included, either way we hoped the girls would let loose unencumbered by our presence. But as the sun came up that’s as far as we got and we all fell asleep where we were…”Hit the road, boys!” The sun had the living room lit up rudely. Sonia was in her work uniform, freshly showered and Scarlet was no where in sight. “I gotta go to work.” I shakily stood up and shook Crow until understanding and thought showed a glimmer in his eyes and I pulled him to his feet. Sonia hugged us and gave us little kisses. “That was fun. Scarlet thought you guys were so cute.” We smiled and departed. The early winter morning was crisp and good for waking up. We now needed waffles and coffee and went straight away to a restaurant that specialized in both. The waitress was old and slow, but sweet and sweetness made up for the other two and the waffles were good and the coffee sucked, but we had a lot of it anyway. We then headed a little ways up the street, grabbed our side road and pulled up to our apartment. The answering machine had six messages that we didn’t listen to. The kitchen was filthy and cluttered, the garbage hadn’t been emptied in days. There was some blood on the floor-weird. We went on to our rooms shaking hands before parting, closed our doors and crashed. I dealt with my devilish memories of Scarlet in typical manner, and I heard the tv on in Crow’s room and about five minutes of porno. Then silence. All day. The apartment was kept dark at all times and we had no neighbors above us and only a single, quiet woman beside us. I woke up to the sound of Crow playing piano in the living room. I staggered to the toilet for a satisfying piss, then prowled through the kitchen for nourishment, but none was to be found, after yesterday’s feast of grilled cheese sandwiches. I plopped down on the couch with the last beer from the fridge and a giant poster of Bob Dylan staring down at me. Crow waved with the left hand and kept playing with his right. “Play some Seeger, man!” Crow flipped me off with his right hand and kept playing with his left. “Fucking starving, bro.” He turned on his bench. “Tacos?” “Damn right tacos.” It was almost ten o’clock when we rolled into our beloved and famous fast food taco place and ordered the kind of meals stoners would be proud of. We stuffed ourselves and complained about women and art and women and money and on on ON, past eleven o’clock, then back to the apartment for showers, then back to the streets in search of the elusive and rare touch of female flesh.