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Bad Habits Will Bring You Down before/after There was this kid in my graduating class in high school. A real dumbass. Reprobate. Juvenile delinquent. His dad was a dentist. He stole money from him. Just as his father was set to fire the receptionist, he left a note that said, 'Sorry I stole the money, Dad.' Sorry I stole the money, DAD. Later he said he did this because he didn't want the receptionist to get fired. He also didn't want to 'fess up to the repeated crimes, too. He wanted to cast suspicion elsewhere, likely maybe at his sister. Which makes it all inexplicable. A hand written note, in his guy like scrawl, and his history. Sorry I stole the money, dad. Anyway, he always had pot, so we hung around with him a little bit. Why not. We called him 'the Saw', and the more we hung out with him, the more his strangeness showed. It started one night, when we were at the bar. He liked to talk about pureile things. "Ever piss in the bathtub?" the saw asked. I paused, wondering where this was going. "Uh, no." I said. "You?" "Yeah, sure, all the time. Well, maybe a few times. huh." he paused, realizing it still sounded rough. The wheels clicked and turned. You could almost see it. The beer did not help. "Well, once." he said, "You're sitting there, and its all warm, you know, you just let go and ahhhh. You know?" he said. Sometimes I comment on others behavior and sometimes I don't. As shameful as it is of me, a lot of it has to do with how much it directly impacts me and my life. "Sure." I said, not really understanding, but the kid seemed to have a head of steam going. "Then there's the time you're laying back, just jerking it," he said, making the universal motion for male masturbation down near his crotch,"And you shoot and there's nothing you can do and its all up in your mouth." Then the Saw drained his beer, smacking the glass down on the table, and went to the bathroom quickly. The conversation screeched to a halt, just as if one of us had whipped out his cock and slapped it down on the table. I turned to my best friend. "Did I just hear that?" I said. "No, no you didn't," he said. "Did he just tell us he drinks his own cum?" I said. "You didn't hear that if you're his friend." he said. "Well..." I said, rolling my eyes. I really didn't think of the Saw as a friend. It was difficult to think of him that way. The Saw came back, and we let it go. I told a few people later on, and they were not surprised. I didn't see the Saw for a year or so after that. And then there was the time a bunch of us were getting high at his squalid apartment. He had a cat, called 'hemp'. A contentious relationship, the Saw was always abusive toward animals, and the cat seemed to hate him. "How's your cat doin', Sawwww?" I drawled. "Great, great man, he loves it." the saw said. "Loves what? Being here?" "Yeah, yeah, being here...with me..." And there was a lull in the conversation. "Hanging out with you..." I prompted "Yeah, sometimes I get the peanut butter out, and he loves it." "The peanut butter?" I asked. "Yeah, I schmear it on my cock, you know, and he comes up..." and he made a licking motion. Stunned silence on my part. "Jan, my girlfriend, tried it, she liked it." (jan was notorious white trash, known for fucking her brother) "She tried...licking peanut butter off your cock?" I asked. "No, no...Off her." "You?" "No, hemp." And again, I paused. "Hemp?" I asked. "Yeah. She didn't want to do it at first, but I grabbed her, and smeared some between her legs..." he said, turning to me and laughing."She likes it now." I wanted to believe it was all wit, the kind of wit that makes things like that up for humor's sake. However, the rough truth is that he was not that smart. Again, I turned to my best friend. The conversation in the room had lulled and swirled, and everyone had caught the last bit of it. And WASP-ishly politely, it started back up again. "WAITAMINUTE!!" I shouted, and the conversation stopped again. "I'M NOT LETTING THAT GO!" "What's that?" another friend asked me. "This dude fucks his cat." I said plainly. "Wha-a-a-a-t?" "He FUCKS his CAT." I said. "I don't fuck my cat, he just--he just--" "Doesn't his girlfriend get jealous?" another friend said, and the room died in laughter. "He just-he just-" I said, mocking him. "-licks it off." the saw said. "Yeah. Right. He just licks peanut butter off your cock. He JUST licks PEANUT BUTTER off Your COCK!" The conversation died again. "Well, looks like its time for me to go." a friend said, and we all emptied out of his place. Again, I told a few people, who were properly shocked and revulsed. Poor cat. I didn't see the saw for about three years after that. Needless to say, I wasn't really looking for him. Ran into him at a shitty bar. One of his dumbass friends said he had weed, so we accompanied them out to the middle of nowhere. He got stuck, and then the saw got stuck, trying to get him unstuck, against all our advice. The saw had problems other than that, though. "Whatcha' been up to, Saw?" I asked, cringing internally. "Nothin'. Welding." he said. And he went into a long fragmented explanation of the last three years, and his career. There was an almost predictible lull in the conversation. "I shit in my neighbor's yard." he said. "Oh really," I said, not even surprised. "Yeah, the guys get there really early in the morning, and I don't want to wake my folks up..." "So you shit in your neighbor's yard." "Well, I can't shit in my own yard, my dad would get pissed." "I bet he would, indeed." "Yep." I pressed on. Why not. "Do you use toilet paper?" I asked. "Yeah, I take some out-well...the first time..." "Uh-oh." I said. "The first time it was in my yard, and I had to grab some leaves." "No shit," I said, and laughed at my own bad pun. "But after that, I came prepared. Shit in my neighbor's yard." You subnormal motherfucker. "Uh-huh." I said. "I shit in an alley-way behind seven-eleven." "Really." "Twice." "No kidding." I said. "Did you ever think to ask to use their bathroom." "I did," he said, "They said 'employees only'." "So how long has this been going on?" I asked. "What, the seven eleven? Twice." "No, the neighbor's yard." "About two or three weeks now." he said. I had to walk miles home in the cold, but it was worth it to get away from that crazy subnormal motherfucker. That poor bastard of a neighbor. All these little piles of human excrement and toilet paper, all over his yard. And this brings me to the whole point as to why I related this tale. My best friend called me a few days ago. He's working temporarily as 'Ms. Dig'. The service that spots and spray-paints gas and electrical lines before construction workers can dig in a specific area. "How's it going.?" I asked. "Good. You?" he responded. "Still alive. How's work?" "Fine. I had a ticket in the city. I shit in someone's yard." I paused, once again. "Dude." I said. "I had to go." he said. "Yeah, but..." I began. "It was the last ticket of the day, there was no one around, it was under construction, almost completed, lotsa' trees around..." "You were in the city, couldn't you have found someplace else?" "Yeah, but nowhere close. I REALLY had to go." "It just sprang up on you?" I asked. "Well, no. I just..." "Overestimated your capacity?" I supplied. "Right." he said, "Haven't you ever shit outside before?" "When I was camping. Otherwise, there's no way." "Really." "I just plan better than that." "Well..." he said "Dude, I can't believe you pulled a SAW!" "Yep. Pretty soon I'll be drinking my own cum and screwing the cat." he said, without a hint of shame.
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