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Rousting the Young before/after So I really don't know what to think. On Saturday night, I set aside an hour in the eveing. I knew my sixteen year old cousin was going to be left home alone for the first time in his life. Still not sure why I did it, and I thnk that's what bothers me the most. See, the first time I was left home alone by my parents, when I was fifteen or so, and they went to the redneck rivera, I threw a party. A really, really big party. And it got out of hand, in that delightful way that I have come to relish over the years. Later on in the week, my cousin's dropped by. I believe I was smoking pot at the time. Something. I was drinking and smoking like mad all week. Freedom and youth. Anyway, my cousin's stopped by, and really, had me dead to rights. I didn't KNOW this at the time. Thought I had it all together. Just cover up the hole in the wall, and everything is fine. Never mind the tracks in the yard, the signs of detritus you just can't cover, as well as my likely obvious state of unbeing. I thought I had it cold. And they said nothing. But the whole time, it preyed on my mind like a motherfucker, when it was just a simple little thing: they were fucking with me. So, the wheel turns, and keeps on turning. And I go over to my cousins, knowing exactly what I'm gonna' find, and feeling horribly hypocritical about the whole thing. I should have listened to my feelings. I really don't want to fuck with anyone, and I don't want anyone fucking with me. I drove by at first, unsure of my motive, feeling bad about doing, yet doing it none-the-less. Bought a bottle of water at the local convenience store, took a deep breath, and went ahead, much like when you're fucking a girl you really shouldn't, for moral reasons, however, you push the fuck on past better sense. His driveway was filled with the most orderly collection of cars I had ever seen in a sixteen year old's party. They had rows and collumns. I never managed that. I walked across the yard, my knee length navy blue pimp coat flowing in the crisp wind, not knowing how to approach this and deciding to balls my way through it, even though I felt bad about it. I moved with a purpose. I strode up to the house. "Who are you!?" a local yokel of the sixteen year old variety demands. "I'm argentum," I projected with authority developed after working with juvenile criminals for a few years, yet choking on the f-infinitive, "Who are you?!" Because I had more right to be there than they. The effect of my words and posture was much like clicking a light on in a dark room full of roaches. Lots of skittering and fleeing behavior. Kids diving off the deck like a grenade went off. From behind me I heard someone say, "Uh-oh" as they scampered away. I stepped over some slouching kids smoking ciggarrettes in the breezway, trying hard to be too cool for the room. "Who are you here to see?" one kid had balls and spoke up. "I'm here to see ______________" I said. Another kid said, "Uh-Oh." and fled. The one kid who had balls opened the door, and shouted for him. I strode into the kitchen and peered into the living room. A room of sixteen year old boys and girls, trying hard to be cool, sitting around, drinking like amatuers. Lots of beercans and kids ready to keel before ten thirty at night. You know. He was laying on the floor in black pants, a black sleeveless shirt, and a black cowboy hat. No shit. A cowboy hat. Everyone in the house stopped and looked at me. The pause was palpable. I stood in the doorway to the living room. He got up off the floor in a hurry, and shouted at me. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT THERE'S A PARTY GOING ON!!! Hadn't expected that. And I still didn't feel right about being there, but whatever. "Just came over to give you your christmas presents," I said lamely. Which I had, I mean, that was my cover and everything. I had burned two cd's for him, which he had asked for a long time ago. And I had said I would bring it over, 'some time'. And that time happened to be now. Yeah, its kinda' shitty. I know I wanted to go over there to roust him out a little. Fuck with him a little bit. Freak him out a little bit. I didn't feel to good about it, though. He was drunk as hell, and grabbed the envelope, opening it, looking at the CD's. "ITS NOT A PONY." he boomed. This confused me. "No, man," I said, "Its CD's" "Right on," he said, and hustled me into the office, away from the crowd. I stood next to his computer, which was next to a large pile of Bus*ch Lite cans. On the computer monitor was J*nna J*meson downloaded porn. A lot of porn, which I mentioned to him. We had a weird conversation that really went nowhere, the major theme's of which were, "It totally blows my mind that you're here," "I'm so not gonna' remember this tomorrow," and "I'm not asking you to buy for me, but.will you buy me some more beer?" I shrugged and patted him on the back. "I've never done anything like this before," he admitted to me. "I know," I said. "This is the first time," he said. "We all do things like this when we're kids," I said, "Clean up the cans, and take care of the tire tracks and footprints in the yard." He nodded. "I'll call you tomorrow," I said. As I walked out the door, he called after me, "You didn't see nothin'...right?" I turned and just looked at him. Continued on my way. "Right." he said, "You didn't see nothin'...right?" Again, I turned and looked at him. Continued on my way. I didn't call the next day. I want no part of a ship that's going down, Besides, it'll probably fuck with him more if I don't call, anwyay. I feel horribly hypocritical about this whole thing. And I don't like the fact that I passed on the "fuck with you" karma I picked up at his age, but this is precisely, exactly what I did. Sorta' feel bad. In retrospect, though, it is kinda' funny. But I'm still not sure what to think. I felt bad about doing it, but I did it anyway. I don't like doing things like that. Likely, I wll go back to leaving everyone way the hell alone. I have enough angst and internal conflict without doing stupid shit like this to brood about. Then again, all I did was roust my too-big-for-his-britches cousin. Fuck 'em. Morally I walk a tightrope everyday.
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