I'm Not Your Toy

Everything was slowly starting to blur. I drained my third drink. She was on her second. She didn’t seem to care that I was slowly becoming the man I usually am – drunk, despondent, unhappy. At least I had someone to share it with tonight. I signaled the bar tender for one more. She did the same.

“Why’d you invite me tonight?”

“Because I wanna get laid.” I said with a smirk and a half-laugh. I offered because drinking is better to share, instead of drinking alone.

“Why d’you wanna get laid?”

“Doesn’t everyone wanna get laid?” She laughed and finished her drink.

This was a different kind of therapy. We accepted tonight and all that we were, and we did whatever we normally do with our problems – drink them away. So I tipped my glass back and let the alcohol wash my insides clean, sort of. It’s like instead of cleaning a room, you just shove everything in the closet. I didn’t mind the fact that it’s going to pop one day. I wasn’t at that stage yet, and I couldn't give a damn.

She was mysterious, to say the least. It’s just been drink after drink. It was a strange experience – a drunk asking a stranger to drink with him. She was a stranger after all, even if I knew her public image. I really didn’t have a clue who she really was. “Who are you anyway?”

“What do you mean ‘Who am I?’”

“Peacemaker, drinker, fixer, pretty lady. What’s your title, what do you do?”

“Well, I’m all of those. Who are you? Actor, druggie, drinker, handsome man?”

“All of ‘em. I like to add in smoker once in a while.” I said as I took out a cigarette and lit it.
“Would that count under druggie?”

“Yeah, that counts under druggie.” She took it from my lips, and put it out in the ash tray. She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my chair.

“We going somewhere?”

“Yep.” She said as we came out of the bar. Next thing I knew I had my back up against the wall. Her lips were on mine. “We’re going to my hotel room. You wanna get laid? Yeah, we all wanna get laid. So let’s get laid. Let’s go.”

I couldn’t say no to those blue eyes. I was itching for a hit, but I couldn’t deny this opportunity. I was becoming addicted to her right now, not the drugs. It was a mental addiction. It was stronger than the physical, though the physical was part of it. The physical was what we did in that hotel room. We don’t just drink our problems away now. We drink and we fuck them away. And that’s alright.