Punk.

You know, I decided to stay here in Tucson because I was afraid to go back to Tijuana and return to that black and lascivious life. However, I concluded that it wasn't the city. It is me. I am cursed to walk this planet and live a volatile existence.
Case in point...no...no, you don't want to hear this, do you? I mean, I do other things. Go to the library...hang out in the mall...see movies. There is more to me than being the world’s psycho cumrag. Right? Please...am I right? You're shaking your head. Stop looking at me like I'm crazy! You don't believe me? What did you say...you...in the back, speak a little louder, please. 'Stop jabbering and get on with the story?' Cripes! Okay.
It started like just any other day...the sun was shining, the birds were twirping, clean happy children laughed and played in the park as drunken Indians and child molesters did a ballet around them. I sat there on a bench, guzzling my Dr. Pepper and eating a cream pie cookie when all of a sudden a dark and sinister shadow loomed over me. With a look of utter disgust and sheer foreboding, I gazed up to see none other than Dan Cokenhour standing over me.
I let out a hiss and said flatly, "What the fuck."
He grinned, "I'd been reading up on your blog and followed you to Tucson..."
With uncontrolled rage and unbridled fury, I was on top of him slamming my fists into his face and jaw. Flinging me off of him, Dan grabbed me by the neck and started belting me in the stomach and face. It felt as if the ground shook by the way we slammed into each other.
He kept grunting between hits, "Calm down! I wanna talk to you!"
Pop! Pop! Pop! I punched him in the face.
Whap! Whap! Whap! He took his licks on me.
I don't know where it came from, but I found a broom handle in a nearby trash can and began wailing on Dan repeatedly. I was so twisted in contempt and hate! He fell, covering his head as I swung blow after blow. His blood began to flow as a couple of Indians approached. A big Indian grabbed the stick out of my hand as the other one held me tight from behind. "Stop it! Stop it, yer gonna kill 'em!"
"That's the idea!" I hissed between clenched teeth, spewing blood.
The two Indians calmed us down and when Dan composed himself, he looked at me and said, "Look...I wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I fucked you around like that in New York."
Choice words were said on my end. Dan told me that his Sugar Daddy’s sister showed up and caused all kind of drama and grief over the thousands of dollars Dan had swindled out of him. Dan was asked to leave.
"What the fuck do I care? You deserve that and all other bad shit that comes your way!" I retorted.
Dan sat down on the bench. "Well, you may be right about that. So, I went looking for you."
"Why?!"
"I don't know. I guess I can just relate to you. I don't know." He looked down at the ground. "Hey, I'm on my way to San Francisco...wanna go?"
I just rolled my eyes and walked away, leaving him with, "Don't cross my path again, Cokenhour, okay?"
I think I heard him say goodbye. What an asshole!
Well, I had to get this out of my system. I went to the local gas station, cleaned myself up, and walked over to this porno shop on Oracle. I must've looked a sight, all beat up with blood on my shirt. The booths in the back were sprinkled with some University students and the ever-present troll. Plugged my quarters in, took out my stiff soldier and all I have to say is Oh those glorious glory holes! You understand I believe sucking cock is the best stress reliever there is. Am I right? Whenever you're feeling blue, blow someone. It works wonders.
After a couple of hours in there, I stumbled back to Primavera. How am I going to explain this black eye and bruises!?