Every Dogma will have it's day
Nov. 22nd, 2005 01:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonFather Shitfaced is at it again!
"Sons of bitches all of you...you are nothing, do you hear me, nothing to the Lord but a collective rash across his great white heavenly ass... and be sure that when he breaks wind it is the trumpet call o'Gabriel you'll be hearing!"
I nod wearily and continue nursing my drink. I look across the bar and sitting alone in a booth is the Future Love of my Life. Now if only I knew how to convince her of that...
"You! You've got the stink of a Catholic on ya boy!" Father shitfaced leans in and I catch the scent of the dead rat he must be using for breath mints.
"Nope. Buddhist but baptised Protestant..."
"A fuckin' heathen is what you are..."
I drown him out and focus on the Future Love of my Life. She looks like Velma from the old cartoons, she's got thick black glasses that hide her eyes behind a sheen of refracted light. She's got short black hair that cascades down the side of her cheeks. She's got on a tight red sweater. The red of 'RED ALERT', she licks the tips of her fingers before turning the pages on her novel. Watching her do that three or four times now and I go from nursing my drink to downing it in one sudden gulp.
I order another one... and one for the Father who has now dropped his pants and is attempting to show the bartender the bullet wound he got from 'some papist bastard in '84!'. The bartender nods without interest and pours two drinks, downs both of them and then asks me what it was I wanted again.
"...well boys, did I ever show you the scar I got preachin' the good word in the Hobo jungles of New Jersey... I swear that scar talks to me at night. It's the devil to be sure, tellin' me such terrible things..." He starts to pull down his nicotine stained boxers and that's when I start working on my third drink of the hour. Watching. Watching her:
I get up. The bar makes no noise. I walk over to her booth. I take the book from her hands as I sit down across from her. She looks up. Her lips open slightly, expectingly. I tell her that i'm here with a little voodoo jingling around in my pocket and I plan on spending it all on her. I take off her glasses and look straight in her eyes. Look at me. No, really look at me and you'll see that I ain't no stray off the street baby, i'm a devil wolf baying on your front door. My hand crosses her like tarot cards. One touch and I show her our future. I show her how I beautifully I can pray in the dark and that there ain't a wound on her that I won't heal....
"...and that's when I gutted the cock-sucker with a ballpoint pen...."
I sigh and light up a cigarette. Father Shitfaced keeps ranting. The bartender watches a Spanish soap opera on the TV up in the corner of the bar. The Future Love of my Life smiles suddenly. She gets up and straightens that Code Red sweater of hers, she adjusts her glasses, slightly, imperceptibly just as some dofus kid steps between us, skinny and thinking he's all with his training goatee and $80 shirt designed to look like he spent twenty on it. And that's when I watch Junior here walk right over to the Future Love of my Life and lay a kiss on her so obvious, so without tact, that it is apparent it was meant for my benefit rather than hers. They sit together at the booth smiling at each other. Their hands cross like tarot cards.
"Hell & Damnation, d'ya unnerstan' what it is i'm tellin' you..."
"Oh yeah.." I say, ready for another round.
"Sons of bitches all of you...you are nothing, do you hear me, nothing to the Lord but a collective rash across his great white heavenly ass... and be sure that when he breaks wind it is the trumpet call o'Gabriel you'll be hearing!"
I nod wearily and continue nursing my drink. I look across the bar and sitting alone in a booth is the Future Love of my Life. Now if only I knew how to convince her of that...
"You! You've got the stink of a Catholic on ya boy!" Father shitfaced leans in and I catch the scent of the dead rat he must be using for breath mints.
"Nope. Buddhist but baptised Protestant..."
"A fuckin' heathen is what you are..."
I drown him out and focus on the Future Love of my Life. She looks like Velma from the old cartoons, she's got thick black glasses that hide her eyes behind a sheen of refracted light. She's got short black hair that cascades down the side of her cheeks. She's got on a tight red sweater. The red of 'RED ALERT', she licks the tips of her fingers before turning the pages on her novel. Watching her do that three or four times now and I go from nursing my drink to downing it in one sudden gulp.
I order another one... and one for the Father who has now dropped his pants and is attempting to show the bartender the bullet wound he got from 'some papist bastard in '84!'. The bartender nods without interest and pours two drinks, downs both of them and then asks me what it was I wanted again.
"...well boys, did I ever show you the scar I got preachin' the good word in the Hobo jungles of New Jersey... I swear that scar talks to me at night. It's the devil to be sure, tellin' me such terrible things..." He starts to pull down his nicotine stained boxers and that's when I start working on my third drink of the hour. Watching. Watching her:
I get up. The bar makes no noise. I walk over to her booth. I take the book from her hands as I sit down across from her. She looks up. Her lips open slightly, expectingly. I tell her that i'm here with a little voodoo jingling around in my pocket and I plan on spending it all on her. I take off her glasses and look straight in her eyes. Look at me. No, really look at me and you'll see that I ain't no stray off the street baby, i'm a devil wolf baying on your front door. My hand crosses her like tarot cards. One touch and I show her our future. I show her how I beautifully I can pray in the dark and that there ain't a wound on her that I won't heal....
"...and that's when I gutted the cock-sucker with a ballpoint pen...."
I sigh and light up a cigarette. Father Shitfaced keeps ranting. The bartender watches a Spanish soap opera on the TV up in the corner of the bar. The Future Love of my Life smiles suddenly. She gets up and straightens that Code Red sweater of hers, she adjusts her glasses, slightly, imperceptibly just as some dofus kid steps between us, skinny and thinking he's all with his training goatee and $80 shirt designed to look like he spent twenty on it. And that's when I watch Junior here walk right over to the Future Love of my Life and lay a kiss on her so obvious, so without tact, that it is apparent it was meant for my benefit rather than hers. They sit together at the booth smiling at each other. Their hands cross like tarot cards.
"Hell & Damnation, d'ya unnerstan' what it is i'm tellin' you..."
"Oh yeah.." I say, ready for another round.