Misery, Lust, Company

Alexis Luna

November 2005

Friday Number One

That week I played a very unlikely role. I was a housewife. I made Kunda breakfast with coffee, packed a lunch, and cooked him dinner. Everyday. I did his laundry and cleaned up the bathroom after his shower. When Friday arrived Kunda claimed he was going to do something he had seldom done for me in the past. Take me out to dinner.

The day dawned with the two of us making love in the shower. Then we rushed around since we both had to be out of the house by nine. In the bedroom as I was putting on another Betsey creation, I eyed Kunda, tightening a tie around his neck. The week had passed by uneventful- with very little alcohol or pills between the two of us. Although one morning I woke up to find Mukunda drinking watered down mint extract.

"You're going to pick me up at Natalie's tonight, right?" I asked, hesitantly. He answered in the affirmative, smacked my ass, and ran out the front door, leaving me behind him in a daze.

Natalie and I spent the day returning various items to Target, Home Depot, and Walgreens. After potato platters at Cornerstone downtown, we ended up at her house. I hated to have to admit it; especially out loud, but Kunda's entire situation was upsetting me- and sobriety was only adding to the strain. During a walk to Starbucks, Natalie tried to suggest other things to be happy about besides getting high. Certain days I'm positive there isn't anything else. Our walk ended with a stop at a liqueur store where Natalie purchased a six pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade for my sorrows to drown in.

Around 6:47 that evening I was still a little buzzed, and I realized Kunda wasn't coming. I know Kunda, and if he is a minute late, he's three hours late. No in between, like so many aspects of our relationship. Natalie's fianc é Alex tried to make me feel better, saying, "He wouldn't just leave you hanging would he?" Natalie and I looked at each other, then I looked down and nodded yes. I knew he had been drinking and that's why he was late. Or why he wasn't coming in other words. The Emergency Contraceptive I had swallowed the previous day was wreaking havoc on my emotions, but I managed not to cry. I suppose if something happens too many times, you simply learn to accept it. Honestly, I didn't believe for one second the entire day that he would pick me up and take me out to dinner as so innocently planned.

I sat on Natalie's porch, listening to my friends console me from every corner of the country through my LG phone. A little past eight, the beeping alert of a new call jabbed into my ear drum, and as I lowered the phone from the side of my head to in front of my eyes, an unfamiliar 916 area code incessantly flashed before their glassy surfaces. "It's him," I told Dania, then said goodbye to her, braced myself, and answered the phone.

"Don't be mad," I could hear his large grin through the phone, and didn't like how he was close to laughter at my inaudible, yet noticeable, frustration.

"Are you drinking?"

"A few beers," he answered dismissivly. I didn't know if, or how, to bring up my little excursion with Mike only a few hours earlier, so I didn't. I didn't have the problem with drinking, only Kunda, and my Dad. Which is why I'm sure I'm so forgiving; while at the same time, it should be reason enough for me to leave. One tear escaped from my eye, as I wondered why I had come; why I had spent my rent money on a 25 year old, former crack addict, current alcoholic, windshield salesman.

But I reassured myself that he would get better. We both would.

It turned out Kunda was only a few blocks away from Natalie's. She drove me, and on the way there I told her I was going to beat him in the head with my purse. When I stepped out of the car onto the concrete, and stared at his guiltless, drunk face, looming above his friends heads; I no longer wanted to beat him in the head with my purse, I wanted to kill him with it. He did not walk, but sauntered, up to me with the same goofy smile that accompanied all his fuck ups, but this time, when he opened his mouth to utter an apology, he made the mistake of lowering his arms to his side. Leaving his head wide open to my cute silver purse from Andy's Cheepee's on Broadway.

I hit him about three good times before he reached up, grabbed my hair, and tried to fling me onto the ground. His boss jumped in between us, and Natalie hurried out of the car. He dared to stomp away from me and I grabbed on to his bare forearm, which was sticking out of a rolled up blue sleeve, when he turned to look at me, his anger was so fierce and ugly. I decided to kick it up a few notches, and spit on his face. Kunda's my baby though, and not even a millisecond later I had the same disgusting bodily fluid on me. We were pushing and screaming how much we hate each other, how it was all a mistake, seeing each other again, seeing each other now, seeing each other at all. Some old lady came out and said she was calling the police. I rushed into an alley and walked quickly to a row of garbage cans. I sat behind them and cried.

My uncertainty was endless. Every time we have been together, it always ends up feeling so bad. But other times are so incredibly blissful; I knew it had to get better. My anger had worn off; it was like a massive gas fire, extinguished with a mere piece of cloth. Who was in the wrong? What was I supposed to do? Get stood up and take it? Like so many times before? I don't fucking think so. Alas, violence is never the answer...but it feels so good. Like the sick woman I am, I smiled devilishly to myself and strutted around the corner.

Kunda and I met halfway, keeping a safe distance from each other; like two kittens meeting for the first time- or two pit bulls.

"You don't hit me! I was abused!" As the screams ripped from his throat, his normally almond shaped eyes grew large with rage. His neck muscles bulged, and his fists were clenched at his side. He gave me a demonic look, shook his head and pivoted in the opposite direction.

"I'm the only one who still loves you. The only one," I called out after him. I meant this in two ways. One of course was the manipulative mean way, interpreted to mean he better not leave me because no one else loves him. The other meaning was more of an astonished realization on my part- I am the only one who loves him, who deals with him, no matter what. And he treats me like this. We rush towards each other and I cry, "I came all the way across the country for you; because you said you were lonely, that you needed help," a melodramatic sob crossed my lips, "and you leave me on our only Friday night to go get drunk!"

"Look baby," he began, "I didn't think it was a big deal, you were at Natalies'.

"I got all fucking dressed up for you again you asshole."

"Let's just go to dinner," he grabbed my hand and we walked towards Natalie and his boss.

"See, it's history," Natalie said to Kunda's boss as we approached.

Kunda throws the car keys at me, asking me where I want to go to dinner. I will have none of it. I might have cooled down for a second, but now I was mad.

"Just leave me alone, you drunk fuck," I reply.

"Hey, hey, hey, I thought we were going to dinner?"

"I'm not hungry anymore. You make me sick." At that he got angry.

"Stop the car," I obliged and then he continued, "Get out." I shook my head so he got out and came around to the drivers' side. He opened the door, grabbed my purse and started walking away with it. He put it down on a stairway which led to a second story apartment. I got out walked towards my purse, and saw the car leave out of the corner of my eye. Goddammit, I thought to myself. I began racing towards the direction his black Honda Civic had taken, my silver heels were slamming against concrete, the only sound in this quiet city.

Suddenly Kunda turned the corner, walking. I threw myself on the ground and begun my hysterics. Kunda started yelling at me. I begged him to stop between my sobs, I was afraid the cops were going to come.

"I know, Ms. Two Felonies," he answered, as a car with two pigs in it rolled up on the scene. Kunda spotted the cops and let out a laugh full of disbelief. I immediately envisioned myself going to jail, again.

"Is everything alright out here?" asked one of the pretentious cops. Oh yeah, I thought, I'm laying on the ground in disarray, Kunda reeks of alcohol and we were both disheveled due to our squabble.

"We're alright, just having a little disagreement," Kunda offered. After assuring themselves that neither of us needed any assistance they drove off. "I'm taking you back to Natalie's. This is ridiculous."

I didn't end up going to Natalie's. We went back to Roberto's where Kunda ordered Round Table Pizza for me. Which I would not eat. He was so mad, and I wasn't anymore, I just wanted things to be alright. In the kitchen he lifted up my dress and pulled my panties off. He started fucking me right there, but when I pulled him into the bedroom to do it gently, he pulled away, picked up his pants, and told me to get out. "And I'm sorry for that, I don't know why I just did that."

I never left, but before the night was over I had sliced my left thigh open and Kunda had drank eighteen beers.

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