Monday, March 19, 2012

Perfect intro

The angry smell of sex, hairspray, and an acrid shot of perfume swirled about him like a swarm of bees. Even the half eaten bison burger, a test product some food hawker left her, added its voice to the ensemble and they were all saying the same thing. She'll never stay for good. Which wasn't all that bad, was it? Did he want her to stay? If only she weren't such a contemptible pain in the ass. It's like the whole Buster thing.
Why do you call me Buster, he'd say, instead of Coyote like everyone else? She'd answer back with something like, Look Buster, it's not my fault your parents were mental irregular. If you want to be called Coyote, that's your cross to bear. One thing though, i don't lie down with dogs. You got that? Unfortunately, every couple of weeks he didn't mind being Buster for a few hours. It was a wonderfully warm diversion from the everyday loneliness that accompanies a person that doesn't enjoy where they are, but has nowhere else to be. Then again, circumstance was closing in on him. The where he is and the where he should be were nothing more than two trails on the same path headed for an intersection. The problem was further complicated by the intersection being collocated with a cliff and three women, each of whom there to exact their pounds of flesh.
It wasn't good enough that one was a shotgun toting, tequila drinker, with no impulse control or that another was a county judge, with a lifetime of unresolved anger and yelled so much she kept the town virtually bird free. Clearly, that was too easy. So, why not include a nurse, with a predilection for pain, that showed signs of harboring a death wish.
Many times he'd thought, just how the hell did i get here. The short answer would be by bus, but the longer one, the real story of how Perfect became perfect is a much longer tale.