July 25, 2008
Best Laid Plans
Written by Girth McDürchstein on July 25, 2008 3:57 PM
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Colby & Perdida
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Last night, Riffs got tired of me sitting around his apartment, feeling sorry for myself. He said, “Come on, buddy. I got a surprise for you.”
A surprise indeed. He drove me into Glendale to an old club I used to frequent, the Sunset Strip. I hadn’t been there since I encountered the woman I thought was my daughter dancing there and had sex with her. Coming back felt awkward, but as soon as I was bathed in the soft neon and noisy DJ patter, I felt better about it.
“Private dances are on me, man,” Riffs said encouragingly.
“What am I supposed to do here, Riffs?” I asked. “Margo is pissed at me for fooling around on her. How is fooling around on her even more going to solve anything?”
“Fuck, man. It won’t solve shit―but it sure will feel nice.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Five shots of whiskey and three M&ooml;tley Crüe songs later, I found my dream girl: a young, vaguely hispanic chica with shining black hair and a ridiculously tight body. After balling up singles and tossing them in her direction, she came over and asked if I had any larger denominations.
“I do,” I said, “in my pants.”
“Mmm,” she said. “How would you like to go to the champagne room.”
“I’d prefer the whiskey room,” I laughed.
“Come on, big boy.” She grabbed me by the shirt collar and pulled me to the door of an empty private booth.
Inside, she ground my pelvis into hamburger and clawed my chest. Once my unit fully engorged, I asked, “What’s your name?”
“Starshine,” she breathed.
“Oh wow,” I said. “I used to have a band called Jupiter Starshine Collective.”
“You’re a musician?” Starshine asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m legendary rock star Girth McDürchstein.”
“Ohmigod!” she gasped. “I’m a singer, too. I have a demo tape in my car. You want to hear it?”
“Maybe later,” I said. “How much would it cost for you to suck me off, then wait an hour and bang me?”
She pulled a laminated pricing rubric out of her general vaginal area, wiped it off, and checked it out. “Four hundred, but for you, baby, I’ll go $360 with a $40 tip.”
“Awesome,” I said. I went back out to the club to get the money from Riffs while Starshine went out to the car to get her demo tape.
In the darkness, I saw a familiar form. He came out in the dim light―it was Colby! He looked pissed.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“You are the worst scumbag I’ve ever met,” Colby said through gritted teeth.
“What?” I asked. “I can’t hear you over the music.”
He repeated himself in a louder tone of voice, enunciating each word clearly.
“Oh…” I said. “Hey, wait. I thought I was your biggest fan.”
“Not anymore,” Colby said. He lunged forward, aiming a limp fist at me. I blocked it with one open hand, then pounded him on the back with my other. He slammed against the carpet with a thud that, while dull, was clearly audible over the music.
“Fucker!” Colby screamed, stumbling back to his feet. “Steal my woman, then go whoring around at a strip club!”
“First of all,” I said, punching the hell out of him with aplomb, “she was never your woman, so I had her fair and square. And now, my wife is back, so I need to stay true.”
“Which is why you came here to fuck a whore?” Colby asked, trying to hit me back but mostly covering his precious face to avoid my repeated blows.
“I came here to get my mind off a problem you created,” I said. “I’m honoring both Margo and Perdida by not fucking them disingenuously.”
“So I guess that means you’re going to leave Perdida alone now?”
“I have to,” I said, finally shoving Colby back to the floor and kneeling on his chest.
“Good,” Colby said. “Don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from her in awhile. She’s mine now, bitch.”
I pounded his face repeatedly until he lost consciousness.
When Starshine finally came back, I apologized for reneging and left the Sunset Strip quickly. She gave me her demo tape, anyway. I threw it in the gutter as I headed up Tujunga.
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