Funky Gorilla Fist – Chapters 6 & 7


“Who was that girl last night?”

First words out of her mouth, first thing in the morning on a rare Sunday

morning that I actually fell asleep. She asks like she actually has the right to ask, like even

though she left me for someone that beats her, like just because she comes around once in a while

for me to stick my dick in her it gives her the right to control my life.

But I better keep my nose out of her business.

I get up and start to get dressed.

“You’ve got some set of balls on you, ya know?”

“Why’s that?”

“Cause it’s none of your business who that girl was last night!”

“Well, maybe I want to make it my business again.”

“UM, hello, you left me, remember?”

“I know, but what I’m tryin’ to say is maybe I’m tired of all this and want you back.”

“Tired of what? Getting beat all the time!”

“He doesn’t beat me all the time, and whether or not you realize it or not, whether you

want to admit it to yourself or not, we were never really over because you still make love to me!”

I think, Holy Shit!!!!! She thinks THAT is making love!!!

Now I admit, at this point even I don’t really know what that is like, but I am pretty sure

that what we do to each other when we get together on these rare occasions has nothing to do

with love.

“You think maybe you’re ready to leave a guy that beats you on a regular basis, for a guy

that will never beat you, and you think maybe , just like that it’ll all be okay and somehow it will

all work out this time.”

“Yeah, I think that I’m ready now.”

I say, “okay, we’ll see.” as I make my way to the door.

“Can you grab me a couple a’ crullers with the donuts?”

As I walk out I think, She thought that that was making love?”

I wonder to myself if she noticed that I didn’t take her car keys when I left.

And as I get in the cab that will take me back to my car I think She thought that that was

making love?

I never went back that morning.

I think that she got the hint too, because it was months before I saw her again.


It’s Monday night, 7 o’clock, and the regular crowd shuffles in.

I think that I threw the third thug in line out three weeks ago for getting out of line

and hooking his thumb in a thong.

But that was then and this is now, and somehow he seems to know what I am thinking.

“ I’ll be good, I promise!”

I don’t say anything to him, just sort of look through him at the other three thugs he

brought with him this time.

“Seriously, I’m sorry, man…..”

“ Take off your hats.”

They all oblige.

“And the hats stay in your laps all night.”

I look at the four of them in turn and say,

“One hat, out of a lap, or on a head, at any time, and you’re out!”

“Okay, okay, thanks man, thanks.”

I take their money and check their ID’s as they shuffle through the door.

“ Do I gotta take off my hat too?”

I look up to a level where I might expect to catch eye contact with the next wise ass and

all I see is air. But about a foot down from there I see the top of a head ( a sight that I would later

become very familiar with, just usually without the hat.)

She tips back the brim of the hat, lifts her head, looks me in the eye,

dead in the eye,

right through me,

right into my deepest recesses.

“That was pretty impressive.”

“It’s all in the eyes”

Looking at my soul now.

“I know.”

She makes a barely tangible gesture, more like the hint of the thought of a gesture for me

to lean down so she can tell me a secret.

“I just wanted to let you know that there have only been three times in my life that a man

has made me wet without touching me.”

A man, as in the singular, meaning one man?”

She doesn’t lean back, so I can’t see it, but I can feel her cheek against mine now as it

edges outwards and lifts upwards with the involuntary contractions of the smile, that I can now

also hear in her voice as she says,

“ You are in sooooo much trouble when I finally get my hands on you!”

“ You have noooo idea what you are getting yourself into, littl’n.”

I stand up because the vultures are starting to circle again and I gotta get back to work.

She is still standing in front of me, eyes closed, head tipped back. The line is starting to

form again and she snaps out of it as I begin to speak,

“There’s a five dollar cover charge and please have your ID’s out when you get to the


She begins to make her way inside, and I look over my shoulder at her as the first guy

fumbles in his wallet for his ID. She stops in the open door, holds up four fingers of her left

hand, bites her lower lip, and shakes her head as she passes through the door.