Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Enter The Ninth Circle Part 12

“Fuck you,” I think to myself, but I don’t say it out loud. The cigarette smoke encircles my head. It actually improves the smell in the apartment. The ever-watchful cats track my every move with their eyes. I flick the ashes into one of the jars filled with yellow liquid and the smell it returns confirms my fears that the jars might be filled with urine. Now mind you, this is years before we have the show “Hoarders” or anyone knows about how Howard Hughes lived. The term we used back then is “eccentric.”

“Have you eaten?” I ask him. “What the fuck do you think?” he responds. He moves his arms like a spokesmodel on The Price is Right. “Do you see a skeleton lying here?” he asks, spraying spittle into the air. I can see the top part of his dentures lying within arm’s reach; they have unidentifiable fuzz sticking to them. “How long have you lived like this?” I ask. “How long have you been a jackass?” he mimics me. 

I let out a heavy sigh to clearly signal that he is annoying me. So many questions run through my head. What am I supposed to be doing up here? Why me? Who takes care of him? Does he ever leave here? Who is he? While I am trying to gather my thoughts, he takes the cane by his bed and sweeps it across a pile of books, sending them crashing to the floor. “Do I have your attention?” he says and then cackles. “Toothless old fuck,” I think to myself.

I look around and take in more of the room. “Is there anything I can get you?” I ask. “Yeah, you can get the fuck out!” he adds with his now-familiar cackle. “With pleasure,” I sing, turn on my heel and head towards the door. I look back at the bed and he shoots me the bird. “Dear Lord, please strike him with lightning,” I pray under my breath. I close the door and lean against the frame. Inside something crashes against the wall. It’s very clear that he has thrown whatever it is in anger.

I head down the stairs, taking them two at a time. I pass the office and glance in again. This time someone is sitting at the desk; their head is down but I can clearly see a straw up their nose. They keep leaning forward and I can see them snorting white powder off a mirror. They glance up, look in my direction and catch me watching. I quickly pull my eye out of the crack in the door; I have had enough drama for the night. Actually, I have had enough drama for several nights.

As I continue down the hall, The Staff bathroom door slides open and about eight people pile out. They are laughing and extremely animated. “Hello!” I say and continue on my way. I get to the door at the bottom of the stairs and wait. I begin to slowly count to ten. Then grabbing the knob, I push the door open.

The first thing I see is a skanky go-go boy standing on the bar. His underpants are around his ankles and he is surrounded by men. He is stirring a drink with his dick. I hear someone yell out “Now this party’s starting!”