Fighting Britney Spears

The fog is heavy. Like a cold blanket that surrounds my heart and drags me down. I haven’t gotten out of bed in two days. Lean over. Crack open another beer. Slug. Slug. I see a flash of black ink on my chest. Tattoo. Fuck. Thick black letters scrawled across my rip cage. The pain was good. Woke me up. I went alone. Paid extra to get it on the bone. My tattoo artist was a girl with colored sleeves and a lip piercing. She was pretty. I asked her not to talk.

It’s Halloween tonight. I haven’t got a costume and have no motivation to do anything other then drink. Alone. At home. In bed. This day always reminds me of the recently departed “love of my life”. She hasn’t called me in the last week. A record length of time for her. I wonder if she will like my tattoo. Doubt it.

“Get up dick head.” My roommate pounds on my door.

“Go away.” I yell.

Door opens. My tall lanky roommate storms into the room and drops his elbow into my rip cage. Ouch.

“Get up and come drink with us, there should be girls at this party.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“You sound like my girlfriend, wear a suit and you can be lawyer with a chest tattoo. Haha.” My roommate hands me a shot of whiskey and a lit cigarette. Good friends. Who? This guy.

Get up. Shower. Puke in the sink, nothing but foam. Put on a suit that smells like the back of a dead persons’ closet. More shots. And we are out the door. There are five of us. My two roommates, Joey and Manny and their two girlfriends… don’t remember their names. They looked hot and sultry. I tried not to notice. Somewhere out there my X was looking hot. I wished she were crying in her bed. Alone. But I knew better.

We get to the house party. It is a classic San Francisco Apartment, small tight hallways with three floors. In the crowded kitchen now. They have red wine in yellow cups. Drink one down. Have another. Go down stairs. There are girls here? Wow. They are dancing. I stare for a moment. I’m alone. Not for long. A chick dressed like a girl scout comes and dances with me. What is going on? Girls don’t just dance with me. She grinds and shakes and moves. I sway back and forth trying not to step on her. Her name is Paige. Word.

Britney Spears walks into the room. The gay version. Some white boy who thinks that cross-dressing is cool (Insert inappropriate insult here). For some reason all the girls think it’s the shit. Dumb younglings. I’m out of here.

On the roof now. Smoking. Staring at the fog. I text a picture of my new tattoo to my X. She calls me back. Thump Thump this heart beats. Answer.

“Hello luv,” I answer trying to sound happy.

“Why the fuck did you send me a picture?” She sounds drunk and angry,

“I don’t know I haven’t heard from you and I wanted to say happy Halloween, I know its your favorite holiday.” I say.

“I told you not to call me, I’ll call you when I feel like talking to you without wanting to break your face with a brick.” I laugh. Fuck.

“Are you fucking laughing at me now? You piece of shit.” She hangs up. I wonder why I always seem to laugh when people threaten to hurt me. Its just funny I guess. Hurting you is.

Sitting with friends now, found some whiskey. Warm this chest up. Paige comes out and starts talking to me. She is nice. She laughs at my jokes. We are having a good time.

Britney Spears walks in. fuck. He grabs Paige’s arm and tries to get her to dance with him. I can tell she doesn’t want to. She lights a smoke and says she wants to stay outside. Britney Spears sits down on her lap. What a weird-o. Paige rolls her eyes at me. I smile. Laugh. Shake my head. What the fuck else am I supposed to do? Britney Spears gets up for more booze.

Paige gets off her chair and sits in my lap. Dope.

“Is this ok? I need you to save me from that creepy dude.” She whispers in my ear, her lips just barely touch me. Hot.

“Yeah no problem sweetheart.” My leg is already going dead. I push through the pain.

Britney Spears comes back and glares at me. I smile at her / him. Then I give him my best gangster fuck off stare. It works. Fucking miracle.

My friends’ bail on me, they want to go have sex with their girlfriends. I understand. So do I. I track down my new favorite girl scout. We talk and then decide its time to leave. She grabs her jacket and we head for the door.

Britney Spears! He is all up in her face, asking her to stay, to drink more.

“Can’t we are leaving.” She says politely.

“You’re leaving with this guy? Are you serious?” Britney Spears glares at me. Hey man at least I’m not the guy wearing a mini-skirt and a white T-shirt that is tied in a bow. Just saying.

“You can’t leave with him, he doesn’t even know you!” I wonder where Britney is going with this. What ever it is it can’t be good.

“What’s her name?” I am distracted, looking around for something to hit this kid over the head with.

“What’s her name asshole?” he screeches. Girly diapers.

“You talking to me?” I can’t help but drop a little New York accent as a say this and now I am smiling. Fucking Robert De Niro.

“See he doesn’t even know your name!” he yells.

Paige looks at me. I can see the pained expression of awkwardness on her face. Yeah that’s right sweetheart this is fucking awkward. I’m drunk and I don’t remember her name. Britney Spears is now yelling questions at me.

“Where does she go to school?”

“She goes to the academy.” I say with some confidence. All these kids go to my school. Right? Wrong. False. Fuck.

“She goes to ballet school you moron!” I don’t like his tone of voice now. Where is a wine bottle when you need one?

“You are a ballet dancer?” I lean in as I ask this. She nods her head yes. This girl just went from hot to super hot.

Britney spears has worked himself up into a rage, he is spiting and foaming at the mouth. This has turned into a hilarious nightmare.

“You want to fight bitch, cause I will work you over like a piece of cake.” He screams at me. Sticking out his chest. I laugh at him. How could I not? He bumps me. This guy is starting to piss me off. I turn to Paige.

“You should handle this guy before I do.” I say as politely as I can.

“He is all yours.” She says and backs up to the door. Truthfully I was kind of hoping she wouldn’t say that. I guess it’s time to fight Britney Spears. She / He runs at me, the black and pink skirt flapping up and down and around. The blonde pigtails waving in the air like windmills. I reach my hand out and slap her/ him in the face. Britney Spears looks shocked. Steps back. I feel weird about punching a man dressed like a girl. Truth. Cause you never know. This is San Francisco.

Britney Spears raises his/ her fist. Fuck it. I pop my arm out with a quick Jab that makes him blink and then I swing the weight of my body behind a solid right hook. The punch lands squarely on Brittney Spear’s jaw. He / she drops to the ground like a sack of rocks. Pigtails and all. Time to leave.

I grab the Girl Scout and head for the street. We make out in the cold fog. Tastes like candy and red wine. She hands me a crumpled piece of paper with her number, there is a lipstick kiss on the corner. Jesus. I go home and drink whiskey. Fall asleep in my suit. Tie. Jacket. Shoes. I dream of large women. Weird.