He’s bumping ICP in the Friday’s parking lot. Insane Clown Posse? I come up to the car.
“Get in,” he says.
“I don’t want to.” I can see the foil on his passenger seat.
Gao is bopping his head up and down with the music. He turns it up. “Shit. Fuck. I’m sawing off an elbow!” Those are the lyrics. He listens to this same song on repeat. I do it with him, at his house. It drives his wife crazy. “You want my couch! You motherfucker! I need your motherfucking brain!” That’s what we listen to. This man has a daughter.
Gao has his sunglasses on. I do too. It’s a beautiful day and the parking lot of TGIF is mostly empty, just the staff. We’re the first people here.
Gao has the foil. “You sure?”
“I’m good.” I’ve never smoked it. I’m trying to draw the line somewhere. Still, sitting with him in his car while he does it..you know I’ve breathed some of that in.
Gao flicks his torch.
“Come to the bar, man.”
“I’ll meet you.”
I’m doubtful. I pull his car door open.
He pulls it shut.
“You can’t have my couch! What the fuck you thinking??!” It’s Gao, speaking along with the lyrics and speaking to me, too.
I take my hand off the door. “I’ll be inside.”
Gao turns up the system. “Now come here you big fat motherfucker—get on the table!” Then, in the song, some guy is hitting people on the head with a frying pan, knocking them out so he can kill them and steal their body parts.
I’m walking toward the Friday’s, bright canopy flapping in the wind—red and white stripes covering the patio. My hands are on the double doors, pulling them both open.
I need to get my key back from Ash today, for sure. I don’t care about hot hostesses anymore..I’ve got Jules. The things I want to do to that girl are terrible—nasty—even though I like her in a tender way too. Isn’t that fucked up? Even as sweet as a girl could be, even as much as you like tender kissing, you still want to fuck, too. It’s just the animal of us, I guess—our lizard brain. I hope that girl wants to fuck me the way I want to fuck her cause I want to tear that pussy up.
This is the world I live in. I don’t know..I guess you could call it western privilege—I hear we’re a lot richer than other countries. This is the only thing I’ve ever known.