My Name Is Jimmy and You Better Not Wear It Out

Kate came back the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. And the day after that. We fucked and got high and I preached what Tunny taught me, but it wasn't like I told her that the ideas weren't mine. I wasn't THAT high to let something like that slip.

The first day she came in, she asked why I had so little furniture. I made up some shit about how material possessions weren't that important. They didn't help anyone, they just got in the way. She ate it up and didn't ever think that I was too broke to actually go out and buy some. Sure, I had found a great Lazy-Boy out on the street and dragged it up to my apartment one day, but I wasn't going to go out and scrounge around for furniture the whole time I lived there.

And then one day, after I was done working, I was sitting at the bar and Kate walked in. And she had a couple of friends with her. She pointed me out and said, "That's him" and they walked over. I raised my eyebrows, this was going to be interesting.

Kate was definitely more smiley since the day I met her, be that from the getting high every day or from the sex, I wasn't sure, but I didn't really care. She knew I didn't love her, I knew she didn't love me. All was good.

"Guys, this is Jimmy. Jimmy, this is Amanda and Sydney."

"Hi." They mumbled their hellos. Amanda shyly looked down at her feet, obviously embarrassed that she was there. Sydney, on the other hand, looked septical and met my gaze with an angry sort of glare.

"Boy troubles?" I asked her, slightly amused.

"No."

"Then I can't imagine why you'd be here."

"Kate...Kate told us what you were saying."

I glanced at Kate, who nodded eagerly, willing me to teach them when I had been taught. "Yeah, and?"

"I want to know how it works."

"Sex, drugs, feeling good all the time. no attachments, no 'love,'" I air quoted, "Just make sure to get tested at least once a week."

"Amanda's head shot up, her face a mask of shoc at how blunt I was. "Does that really work?"

I grinned at her, and she lowered her head again.

"Yeah, it works."

They stuck around for a few more beers, then left, Kate promising she'd be back later.

The week continued like this, more people coming in every few days. The group kept growing and growing. Amanda and Sydney definitely looked happier than they had been when I first saw them. One day I asked if anyone had any weed (no one did), and the next day about five people handed me baggies of the stuff. I was growing a damn congregation without meaning to! People came in droves to the club just to hear me talk after shows.

I couldn't walk to the PDQ down the street to get a pack of cigarettes without people staring and pointing and whispering, "There he is! That's Saint Jimmy!"

I don't know where all this Saint Jimmy business started, but I have to admit that I enjoyed it, and every time someone said it I just couldn't help but say, "That's my name, don't wear it out." I was getting sex every night from girls I barely knew, i was drawing in insane amounts of Mary Jane every three days, i had enough money to keep getting my pills and buy myself new clothes when I needed to, and people APPRECIATED me here. Shitsville and Jingletown were faint memories and I basked in the light that the City gave off.

The only times I thought about Tunny were when I turned on the radio and hear news about the "up and coming" new band, Slow Down or Burn Up. When I first heard one of their songs on the radio, I had a major spaz attack. I kept thinking TUNNYYOU'REONTHERADIOTURNNYYOU'REONTHERADIOTUNNYYOU'REONTHERADIO until I remembered that Tunny was a douche bag and I hated him. That little fuck, leaving me here in the damn City with nowhere to go. Too bad for him, because I had made a name for myself, and he started it off.

One night, after a rousing good fuck, I snuck out of the apartment while the broad was still sleeping. I pulled on a our of jeans and went outside for a smoke. As I lit the cigarette, I sat down on the curb and stared at the sky. The haze from the smog and the lights from Downtown dimmed the stars. I liked the effect. It was alien to me. In Shitsville we could always see the stars burning out in their places.

I took a long drag and thought of home. To be honest, I missed it a little. I missed Ruthie and David, and I missed the 7-11, and I missed the smoothies. But that's it. I didn't miss Mom, I didn't miss Sara, I didn't miss our shitty house or my fucked up school, and I definitely didn't miss all the American Idiots there who would never learn. I was teaching people here. I was telling them how wrong it all was. How fucked up the world was, with all this 'love' shit and all the emotions and the pain. It wasn't worth it. Drugs and alcohol and sex were the only real things, the only things in the world that made any real sense.

I took the last drag of the cigarette, put it out on the sidewalk, then lit the last one in the pack and got up. I started to make my way to the PDQ, ready to break the "No Shirt, No Shoes" policy and then maybe take a walk around the City.

"Nice job at taking your pills tonight, Jim."

"Didn't feel like I would need them." For once I was calm. I didn't care if he was here.

"Well good job. You just gonna walk away from that girl?"

"Yep. She can find her own way home. I don't have to be there when every single one wakes up."

"Now you're sounding like me."

I turned and glared at him. "I am nothing like you."

"Doesn't seem like it to me. You're angry, you're hating Tunny with more force than I usually do."

"Just shut up."

I continued down the block, faster now. Maybe I could out walk him or something.

"Don't be stupid. I'm your damn reflection."

I turned, and out of sheer anger I broke the window he was in. I stopped dead, shocked with the sheer force I had used to shatter the glass. I started walking again, cigarette clamped tightly between my teeth as I picked the glass from my hand. I made it to the PDQ in record time and bought my cigarettes despite the cashier's worried glances at me and then at the security cameras. Probably worried for his job. Well fuck him, who cared?

I made it back to the club, then just sat outside, smoking cigarette after cigarette, trying to calm down. But I just felt so damn ANGRY for no fucking reason. I was not like him. I was nothing like him. I wasn't manipulative or annoying or a DICK. Sure I hated Tunny, but with good reason. I didn't hate Tunny for no reason like he did. Tunny fucking LEFT ME HERE, in this God forsaken place. I was supposed to GO places, and I was only three days away from home by car! It wasn't my fucking fault he had to bail me out of god damn jail.

Well, maybe that was my fault, but he didn't have to bail me out if he wanted to keep the money that bad.

Finally I put out my sixth cigarette of the night and went inside. I took my medication, woe the chick on my bed up, told her to get the fuck out, and she got out, smiling the whole time.

I groaned softly, rand a hand through my hair, and looked around. What the hell was I doing here? The City was no place for a guy like me, a guy that came from Shitsville, a guy who's only good at getting high and fucking random chicks. I kicked the Lazy-Boy over in an attempt to get rid of the restless feeling that was washing over me. The resounding crash sounded nice, but I knew I couldn't do it again because the land lord would kill me. So I paced for a minute or so, then collapsed onto the mattress and fell asleep.

May 7
St. Jimmy's coming down across the alley way
Upon the blvd., like a zip gun on parade
Light of a silhouette, he's insubordinate
Coming at you on the count of 1, 2, 3, 4
My name is Jimmy and you better not wear it out.
Suicide commando that your momma talked about. King
of the 40 theives and I'm here to represent the
needle in the vein of the establishment. I'm the
PATRON SAINT of the denial with an ANGEL FACE and
a taste for suicidal cigarettes and ramen and a
little bag of dope. I am the son of a bitch and Edgar
Allan Poe. Raised in the city under a halo of lights.
The product of war and fear that we've been victimized.
ARE YOU TALKING TO ME? My name is St. Jimmy. I'm a
on of a gun. I'm the one that's from the way outside.
I'm a teenage assassin executing some fun in the cult
of the life of crime. I'd really hate to say it, but I
told you so. So shut yourtrap mouth before I shoot you down
ol' boy. Welcome to the club and give me some blood.
I'm the resident leader of the lost and found. It's comedy
and tragedy. It's St. Jimmy, and that's my name
AND DON'T WEAR IT OUT