One moment at a party

Once you get to the punk house, your girl, Emmy, hands you a 40 and you wander into the back to check the punk bitch crew. Girls are so perfect, so genius, so exciteable, so 16 and 17 and on their own. The girls are, as usual sprawled out on the floor, variously wearing the code clothing of punk—that is, black and leopard print interspersed with patches and safety pins. You get jealous, you try to hide it by smoking and that doesn’t always work. Addictions are so transparent.

So you get a mostly clean glass, rinse the crust off and split the beer with Emmy. After some half hearted attempts to get everyone out of the house and running wild, you decide its time to split and go do your ladyfriend in her apartment in her parents crazy house. She has divorcing parents who let you do whatever you feel like, so its’ easy to stumble in there late, drunkenly, loudly pleasing each other. She is your first open relationship, and it ends in disaster when she fucks some skanky guy in the even skankier tub at the punk house. You write her a note to tell her It’s Over, and she acts like you were the loser.

Anyway, on your way out, she notices that some guy on the couch has passed out and in his stupor, has pulled his cock out of his pants. You peer in for a good look, and notice that there is in fact something tattooed on the head of it, facing the owner. While you’re looking, it jumps, and you jump, too, backing up just in time to avoid a weak spray of pee that erupts from the previously resting member.

The next day, you see the boy again, this time alert and drinking. He has a tattoo of SPT on his neck, and a receding widows peak, emphasised by his ¼ inch hair. His crooked nose is the larges thing on his face, besides his smile. “heeeeeey! You saw my cock!” “yeah” you admit. “what’s on it?” “ohh, it’s a tattoo. It says…wait,” and he pulls out his dick to show you,” it says ‘MORE BEER.’ “ “why?” thinking this is just another drunk punk who wants girls to fetch him shit. “well, it’s so that, if I’m drinking, and then I get with a girl, and I’m about to start fucking her, I’ll see that my cock says More Beer and I’ll know that I should just drink more and not fuck her.”

You are stunned into silence. What you thought was going to be a most offensive and terrible regurgitation of information has in fact warmed your heart to this kid. You ask his name, it’s Jay Leighton.

Move forward a bit with your life, graduate high school.

Content Hadassah Hill / Axon D'Luxe 2005 - 2008 | Home | Writing | e: info [at] hadassahsbizzare.com