blurring_the_edges_25_waiting_for_the_night birdmad Between all the other things keeping you busy, it almost doesn't occur for a couple of weeks to realize you feel slightly stung by the fact that besides having not called or returned a call since you told her that you love her, Elena never even bothered to even acknowledge your birthday in the slightest way. You weren't expecting a gift or anything like that, as one of your friends, a simple phonecall or even just a little note like last year would have been nice. The thought does sting for a little while when it does hit you, and it hits your heart like the sensation of nicking your finger with a kitchen knife while cutting a bunch of jalepeños. Work eats most of your energy four days a week, it is mid-April, you have been at this job now for almost three months. Though it doesn't pay any more than the monkey-work on the main floor, you are now assisting the repair technician and working some of the slightly more dangerous machinery. One Wednesday night, you make a phonecall to Henry and ask him if he's got any interesting trouble for you to get into this weekend, letting him know that you are more concerned with the action than the cold cash. "Well," he starts, "now that you mention it...do you remember that pharmacist Tricia's friend from U of A went to when you decided to pry that monkey off your back?" "Yeah, cokehead, mid-forties, bad hair transplant, really wound waay to tight, right?" "Bingo! I swear, Alex, that memory of yours is just scary sometimes, you remember that shit and you were strung out on a fuckload of dope. Me, on the other hand, I can lose a whole weekend after a few good stiff drinks." "Dude, trust me, it's no blessing." "How do you figure?" "Easy, i shove all the fucking chemicals into my blood that i do trying to clear shit off my mind and force myself to become a blank slate, even if it means a future spent drooling in a cup by a nice re-inforced window over by 24th Street and Van Buren." "You're breakin' my fucking heart over here, Alex." "Really? Since when the fuck did you grow a heart?" "Touché. Anyway...," Long pause, "other than the possibility of you being asked to entertain Claire and Mr. Platte again or Dana calling you for an additional servicing, i don't have anything major on the books, besides, Billy's been holding it down over here well enough." "Alright, trust me, if i need a more subtle breed of violence or an extra hand, you are still the first guy on my list." "Okay." "One thing, though, call me back in a couple of days, Tony and I are working on something with MeeKrob and we might need you there. MeeKrob doesn't like working with Billy, neither does that girl of his." "Top-notch, man," you answer, "I will be in touch." Fishing in your pocket for a phone-number you got at work, you call up Diana. Much to your chagrin and hers, a man's voice in the background asks the question "Who the fuck is that?" Jesus, Alex. Just as you drop the receiver, Dana calls you. It manages to be a surprise to you how intensely this woman is going out of her way to stroke your ego. She invites you up to visit her and Greg at their house because she wants to play some more. Greg and one of his boy-toys, another closet-case from a conservative money family, are out and about on a business trip, leaving her bored and alone. You take care of a few minor details around the house and go see her. When you get there, she fixes you a drink and tells you that Michelle sends her regards from Grosse Point and the surrounding environs. "Hmph, funny." Dana says. "What is?" "When i first met her, she was so wild, who would have ever thought she'd go back to the quiet life in one of the WASP-iest clusters of suburbia that this country has to offer outside of parts of this town." "I dunno, Dana, it doesn't really surprise me." "Why's that?" "To me it looked like this whole weird life we all seem to have made for ourselves here was just an outfit she was trying on. She was never really comfortable with it, and i think not finding what she was after with Zoe didn't help much either." "Keen observation. You're a smart guy, Alex, what brought you into all of this?" "Boredom, curiosity, and maybe a little bit of a death-wish." "Really?" "Yeah, i've had this dream ever since i was a kid, it's the same dream, i'm hiding in a warehouse, it's cold it's wet, and right before i wake up, i find myself surrounded and then there are gunshots. I don't know anything about the how or why of it though." "Weird," she says, fixing herself another drink. She challenges you to a game of pool in the den, you accept. "Let's make this interesting," she follows, "instead of money, this one is a game of strip 9-ball." "9-ball? I suck at 9-ball." "That's what i'm counting on, Alex, that's what i'm counting on." "Oh, really." The game progresses until you are in just your boxers and she has lost only her shoes and blouse, when she scratches on the next shot, you get the sense that she deliberately tanked the shot. When you get to cue up again, you manage to get her down to her lingerie before blowing a bad shot, which still leaves you one item of clothing behind her. She takes her next shot and fares no better, giving control of the table back to you with the cue-ball in good position to finish the game. You line up your shot, and just as you are about to let it go, from across the corner of the table, Dana has pulled her bra cups down, exposing her breasts to you which is just enough of a pleasant distraction to cause your shot to break wide and sent the cue ball careening into the corner pocket. It doesn't bother you, because even if you end up naked first, the end result will still be the same. Sure enough, she wins, and while your first instinct is to take her right there on the pool table for the sake of doing it someplace you've never had sex before, but then you realize several things and the look on her face suggests that she does too. First, the table just doesn't look comfortable from any angle, you secretly applaud any porn actress who has ever done a wild fuck-scene on a pool table because it just doesn't look like it would be a hell of a lot of fun. Second, out of courtesy to Greg who spent a lot of money on that table and uses it to entertain business-related guests from both his family business and the less legal business you are part of with him, you would feel pretty silly trying to explain any funny stains on the green expanse of the table. Unsure where to go, you scoop her up in your arms and take her out into the hallway, where to her approving surprise, you set her down and take her on the floor and against the wall. She cheers you on with a host of emphatic obscenities When morning comes, she says something that surprises you at least just a little. 030425 what's it to you? who go blather from