That Smile Doesn't Work Anymore

That just figures, doesn’t it? No Jason. But every other man under the sun that I know is calling. Big Tongue, Fury, NFL, DG. They all wanted my attention today.

To the bar. Darts with Preach, Dorothy, Freak Mama, Sassy and CC. CC is licking our ears and faces. Rather bizarre. Freak Mama felt the need to start biting our nipples. Dorothy and I are looking to leave here covered in slobber and bruises. MOB saunters in and flashes me that smile. It doesn’t hurt. I don’t melt. I don’t punch him. I just smile back and act like a civil adult. CC, Dorothy, MOB and I shoot the shit.

I walk outside to find Freak Mama and she is kissing a chick outside the bar. My eyes start burning. I feel like I did when I walked in on my grandparents having sex in the second grade. My jaw drops and I can’t run away. “Holy Shit” is all I can mutter. Freak Mama looks up and rushes over to me. Her girl goes back inside. “Dude, what are you doing?” She busts out laughing and buries her head in my shoulder. “I don’t know! I told her I’d never kissed a woman and she just laid it on me. I’m experimenting.” We keep laughing. “Did you like it?” She squeals. “I don’t know! I’m too drunk.” I take her back inside before she decides to “experiment” on the homeless guy and his dog across the street.

MOB’s phone keeps blowing up. I tell him to answer because it might be Joy. “Oh, you’re funny.” Of course it’s the crazy baby mama, but I just want him to know that I know he lied about fucking her. He asks if he can talk to me after the bar. I tell him no. He says we’ll play for it. I laugh. I can kick his ass in darts any day of the week. He says, “If I win, you have to hear me out.” I counter. “And if I win, you can never speak to me again unless I address you first.” He thinks. “Fair enough.” We shake. He smirks and I know he’s up to something.

We play the first game and I’m totally off. I can’t focus. He’s dead on. Halfway through the game he says, “Hey, boo, did I tell you I got a dart board last week? I’ve been practicing every day.” I’m pissed. He wins. I say best out of three and he agrees. I lose the second game by one point. Crap!

Dorothy and I go to leave. MOB stops me by the door. He asks me a question and I tell him I’m sorry, I really don’t think about him anymore. “Well I still think about you every day.” I look at Dorothy for support. Like myself, she doesn’t know what to say. He asks if he can come over. I tell him the garage door will be open for 15 minutes. That is his window. In fifteen minutes I am closing it and going to bed whether he’s there or not.

MOB is at my house within six minutes. He parks in front of the garage and we head in. I hit the button to close the door. He is apparently parked closer than usual because we hear a scrap/crunch/smack as the garage door hits his car. I start laughing uncontrollably. I can’t stop. The madder he gets, the harder I laugh. It’s not funny but damn, it’s funny. He loves that damn ugly car.

We end up talking until 4 AM. No hanky panky. No funny business. Just talking about everything from what went wrong with us to family to bullshit to music. It was nice. But I started to feel like he was human again and that wasn’t a good thing. I had to remind myself that no matter how awesome and loving he is when we’re one on one, the minute I’m not there he is a lying, conniving, deceiving little fuck. I glance at a picture I had in a frame of he and my sister. Suddenly, he’s a monster again and I’m good to go. And even that smile doesn't work anymore.