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My predicament had only gotten worse. After nodding out for a moment
or two, I woke again to find I was still chained to the bottom of a van
with a hamster bottle by my pounding whore head. A screeching door, followed
by the blinding DAYLIGHT, startled my prisoner fantasy.
A pale ass man-child and another strangely similar pale ass man-child
stood in the sun and glared at me with slight disbelief. "What do you
want from me?" I blurted out. But the guys just looked at me like they
had no idea WHO I was or how I got in the van. What a crock! It's me,
MIMI!
Their gaping mouths and shortness of breath didn't fool me, nor did their
"mom" screaming "Get that tramp outta here!" and "You're grounded!" from
the front yard. What kind of passive aggressive assholes were those guys?
I was onto their dirty boy intentions and the afternoon orgy planned in
their Jersey basement.
To my disbelief they had the nerve to ask me why I was passed out in
their sacred Satanist van and point out that I was not CHAINED to the
ground but merely tangled up in handkerchiefs and the plastic circle things
for six packs. Their denial was really frightening me so I dashed from
the den of sin and down the driveway towards ... I had no idea where.
I ran past more driveways, mailboxes and finally to a Dunkin Donuts.
I must have lost them because I waited in the street just three blocks
away watching for them. Then I waited in the donut shop for like an hour,
but my captors were nowhere in sight. I guess they didn't like donuts.
Eventually, I gave up on them after making several phone calls, and I
met some donut guy who said I looked like I needed a drink. After eight
or so Budweisers, me and donut guy decided that I just needed to rewind
the events of the night before in order to get the hell out of New Jersey.
It would be like rewinding your favorite Black Sabbath tape just to hear
"Warpigs" one more time.
Of course! It made perfect sense. I would do exactly the same thing as
I did the night before. I started obviously enough with the booze. So
I drank some margaritas, some more Bud, smoked a joint and like Dorothy
who wakes up from Emerald city to find herself surrounded by her very
friendly uncles, I was home.
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