Smoke, Big Fish, and Italian P. (MATURE content!)

[Asher]

I wrote this a while ago when I was working in Temecula, CA and staying with my cousin this summer. We got into some real wacky stuff, let me tell ya. This was just one of many stories...

As you can tell by the title, this story has MATURE content, and there is a lot of profanity throughout the peace (this is not a *fap* piece, as one might think from the title). This is also NON *B/DL. You have been warned...

Smoke, Big Fish, and Italian Prostitutes

“Dude, wake up.”
“…What…huh?”
“We have to go to my dad’s.”
“…Mikey, I have to go to work, man…”
“Not today you’re not… Meet me in the car in 5 minutes.”

He walked off the trailer, opening and closing the door with a loud bang. I stretched out on the floor that was my “bed” and looked up at the low ceiling that seemed to daunt me.

“…How the fuck does Mikey survive this shit?”

More mumbles and profanity escaped my mouth as I got up, my head almost bumping on the ceiling. Looking around me, I found my clothes scattered all around the trailer; my shirt in the sink, my pants in the bathroom, my socks on the chair. Putting my clothes on the best I could (given my situation in a low ceiling trailer), I walked over to the bed and grabbed my shoes and walked out, the morning wind greeting me with a blow in the face. I walked over to Mikey, leaning against the car drinking his coffee. He looked at me as I continued to walk towards the car.

“…You up?”
“Does it look like I’m up?”

He stared at me for a few seconds, sipping his coffee.

“…Just get in the car.”

I did what he asked, hopping in the passenger’s seat as quickly as I could. A few seconds later, my cousin hopped in and slammed his door, sending a large vibration throughout the hatchback. For a few moments, he just sat there, looking straight ahead of him at the dew-covered windshield. Another sip of coffee was all he needed to convince himself that it was finally time to go. Putting the keys into the ignition, several rumbles were heard before the engine started up. Mikey put it into drive, slowly beginning to leave.

“…So why do we have to go to your dad’s?”
“I have to ask him a couple questions about finances for San Francisco.”
“Mikey, you’re fucking 27 years old; isn’t it about time you figure it out yourself?
“…Fuck you…”

Mikey continued to drive down the road, large oak branches hanging over the twisting pavement, almost interfering with his sight of vision. He turned his corner’s violently, my hands clinched to my seat, praying that we weren’t going to crash. Vicious roars from the engine proved to me that we continued to go at raging speeds down the next road, and the one after that, and the one after that…

Pulling into my uncle’s driveway unscathed was a blessing from God, and I got out of the car, kneeled down, and kissed the floor with a deep satisfaction that I was alive.

“…Dude, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You don’t know what kind of shit is on his drive way anyway.”
“Maybe if you weren’t driving so fast and reckless I wouldn’t be doing this right now!”
“…Shut up. Just shut up…”

As Mikey walked to the front door, I looked up and stared at my uncle’s home. It looked like what it always looked like: an overly large dumpster with windows, doors, and a chimney in middle. Of course, all the plants looked trimmed and healthy, but the house stood quietly and without any maintenance. The windows were falling off their sills, the doors swinging on their latches. Simply a mess of a house.

“…I thought your father cleaned it up…”
“Well, yea… the plants…”
“…That’s not exactly what I meant…”
“Dude, he’s still on drugs, okay? Give him a fucking break!”

I decided to keep my mouth shut; no reason to argue. Mikey was right. My uncle wasn’t even two weeks out of rehab and here I am complaining about his house. I stared at the large birds of paradise that were to the right of me, with their trunks similar to a palm tree, and their tops similar to… well… birds. My uncle had grown them for years; even the drug problems hadn’t stopped him from growing, trimming, selling…

“Damn it man, get your fucking ass over here! I don’t have all day…”

I turned my focus back to my cousin, who was already at the front door.

“C’mon, the door’s unlocked…”

After waiting for me, we both walked in what once was “the living room.” My uncle’s living room did not look like a living room in the slightest. It looked more like a landfill with some nice furniture and random musical instruments scattered across the floor. Mikey just looked down, staring at his feet and the floor around him.

“…Home, sweet home…”

I looked at my cousin and then turned my attention to a giant water tank on the side of the room. Inside it was a big black fish that was way too small for it. Looking squished, I peered in on it, staring at its features. It seemed to be staring right back at me with its dark sad eyes.

“Hey Mikey, look at this fish…”

Mikey turned around and walked over to the tank.

“Oh, that’s Fred.”

I glared at him.

“…You named it Fred?”
“I didn’t…my dad did. He got it instead of getting drug money. Pissed him off something awful…”

I continued to stare at Fred, he staring back at me, his gills going up and down, having a look of wanting escape, of wanting freedom, of wanting a bigger tank.

“Man, look how small that tank is! Dude, keeping that fish in there is like putting a shark in a freaking kiddie pool.”
“Yea, I know… C’mon, we got to look for my dad.”

Mikey went straight to the bedroom as I stayed in “the living room.” I heard Mikey shout “Dad! Dad! Where are you?!” It didn’t seem to be working. I inspected the house, not a sign of the sight of my uncle or the smell of the marijuana that always wandered with him. I heard a knock under the kitchen table, and I looked under it to see my uncle peering right back at me.

“Yo, Mikey, I found your dad! He’s under the table!”
“…What?”
“YOUR DAD IS UNDER THE FUCKING TABLE!”
“OKAY!”

My uncle crawled out on all fours, looking up at me as if he were a dog and I was the master.

“Why do you have to be so god damn loud? Son of a bitch!”
“…Hey Uncle Mike…”
“Oh hey! It’s my nephew! Look at you! You’re in my house!”
“…Um, yea Uncle Mike, I’m in your house…”
“You have to meet Annette. Annette; where are you? Annette! I need coffee!”
“Uncle Mike, who’s Annette-“
“Son a bitch! ANNETTE! I NEED FUCKING COFFEE!”

I turn to my cousin who just entered the room.

“Mikey, who the fuck is Annette?”
“Some Italian prostitute that my dad has as a girlfriend.”
“Oh…that’s lovely.”
“…I know, right?”

I stared around the corner to the kitchen, my uncle still screaming Annette’s name at the top of his lungs. As soon as I peeked around the corner, I heard a loud thump against the kitchen tile. And for the first time, I saw the ghostly figure that was Annette, her body spread across the kitchen floor. My first instinct was to help her up, but I soon refrained as I saw her slowly gain momentum and stand on her shaking feet. Running in continuing to scream her name, my uncle seemed to stop in his tracks at the site of Annette, finally realizing that she was in the next room over the whole entire time.

A first look at Annette was enough to realize that she wasn’t a person of great moral. Her dark heavy eyes showed signs of insomnia, her tangled and tarnished blond hair whisked past her shoulders. Her skinny arms lay limp, her legs like gaunt scrawny twigs. It took her almost a minute to realize I was in her presence, her eyes suddenly open and bursting with intensity. I stuck out my hand, expecting it to be shaken.

“Um, hi, I'm Mike’s nephew…”
“Oh hi!”

She grabbed my hand viciously with a flash of speed that seemed to burst out of nowhere.

“I’ve heard a lot about you!”
“…Um, really?”
“…Yea, sure!”
“Well, that’s fantastic!”

I rolled my eyes as she turned her back to fix up the coffee. Mikey went into the other room, realizing his father was going to be of no use to him today. As she added the cream and sugar, Annette turned to me, smiling a hardy grin that created a sense of tension deep in my bones. Something about that smile… it just wasn’t right. She handed the cup to my uncle, and as he sat down at the piano and began to sing, she began to take her seat next to mine. I didn’t really have anywhere else to go, and I couldn’t just avoid her. I was stuck.

“…Don’t you just love your uncle’s singing?”
“Oh yea, definitely.”
“He’s a good singer.”
“Why yes, he is… he can sure bellow out that tune.”

She laughed, leaning over the table and holding her hair back as not to scrape it against the table’s surface. Sitting back up, she continued to chuckle as we went on with our conversation.

“So you’re from Las Vegas?”
“I am; it’s really hot there right now!”

She laughed again.

“Yea, I bet! Oh, that’s where all the casinos are!”
“…Right you are!”
“Do you go there often?”
“…I don’t. Trust me, they’re overrated.”

She laughed again, her hands on her stomach this time. I guess that was funny I thought to myself, looking the other way as she continued to laugh. Finally, as she finally gained control of her self, she reached over to the other side of the table, and grabbed a beat up box, its shade a tarnished brown and its paint beginning to fall off from years of apparent use. Opening it, she looked at her selection of various sizes of cigarettes. Curious, I leaned over to take a more observant look. One sniff from the box made me realize those weren’t cigarettes; those were tiny marijuana joints. She grabbed one, inspected it, looking at it with inattentive eyes and a couple of sniffs, and then realizing she was satisfied. With her other hand, she grabbed a little orange lighter on the other side of the table and lighted the joint. Sitting by her, I leaned back into my chair, trying to avoid the smoke as she pulled the joint from her mouth. Mikey saw this and in sweeping motion, briskly walked over to Annette and me, an angry look sketched across his face.

“…Annette… what the fuck?”
“Mikey, it’s fine, really…”
“Dude, she’s smoking a fucking joint in front of your face!”
“Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal man.”

Listening in to the conversation, Annette added:

“Yea, Mikey, calm the fuck down, will ya?”

Mikey stared for a few seconds and then sat began down, glaring at Annette as she continued to smoke away, going into her own little world along the way.
She smoked another hit, tossed her hair around her shoulder, put her elbows on the table and gave a look of imaginary concern and deep thought.

“…You know, you’re uncle is a good singer…”
“…I know, you already told me.”

She laughed aloud.

“…Um, hold on one second, Annette…”
“Okay!”

I got up, and passing my uncle playing piano, I stepped outside. I stared up at the sky above me, and I began to think. Looking back at the house, I began to realize how different we all really are. Here you have my uncle, who is a recovering drug addict who still has problems, his girlfriend Annette, who is an hyper Italian prostitute, and my cousin Mikey, the one who found this all too normal ever since his long and hurtful childhood. And then there was me. I was the odd ball out.

My head turned to the ground as I exhaled the deep air that seemed to close in on me from all directions. And it was then that I realized I could no longer escape. This is what it was, and I was stuck with it.

I went back inside, my head facing the other way to avoid eye contact with Annette and possibly my uncle. Finally reaching Mikey, I faced him and gaining his attention.

“Mikey, let’s go. I’ve had enough…”

He looked up at me, shaking his head as he began to sigh.

“…Yea, I don’t blame you. I’m ready to leave too. C’mon…”

As we walked out, we noticed Annette and Mike making out on the couch, a very distasteful image that did not need to be set in on my mind.

“Bye Uncle Mike, bye Annette…”

They didn’t seem to hear me; it didn’t really seem to matter anyway. As Mikey got into the car, calling me along, I turned back and stared at the house. And I continued to stare, until there was nothing else to see. Finally getting into the car, I sat down and leaned against my seat, inhaling the old car smell. And as we drove away, all I realized was that all I could ever wish for would never be in my grasp, and all I ever wanted was to just be home again…

[Laram]

I Liked It.. ^.^

[Asher]

Thank you Laram5 I'm just glad someone read it lol

[Laram]

Heh, I'm Sure People Have, And Just Don't Know What To Say. Like Me. Hence I Said That. :P

[NoahKokoro]

It was really well written! ^ ^ *huggles* But seems like an interesting way to start a day

[Slang]

Dude, I really dig you're writing style. It dunno, it just felt like super relaxed or something, the way it comes across I mean. Story is freakin gritty, but I really liked it. So this is a true story? Apparently you're supposed to write about what you know, so maybe that's why it's good, I dunno. I would like to read more stuff by you though man. Have you posted anything else on the site?

[Asher]

Originally Posted by Slang

Dude, I really dig you're writing style. It dunno, it just felt like super relaxed or something, the way it comes across I mean. Story is freakin gritty, but I really liked it. So this is a true story? Apparently you're supposed to write about what you know, so maybe that's why it's good, I dunno. I would like to read more stuff by you though man. Have you posted anything else on the site?

Haha thanks man! I appreciate it!

Yes, this is a true story; it happened during the summer when I was staying with my cousin (Mikey in the story) in Temecula. We were working at a plant nursery during the days and doing music gigs during the nights. Pretty crazy stuff lol

The only other story I have on ADISC is Carpet Cleaner Adventures, which is a lot shorter and on a more humorous note than the piece above.