I needed money for.
A plane ticket.
Food.
Rent.
Booze and drugs.
Books.
In no particular order.
I didn’t know how much, but I knew it was more than I had, which was two thousand dollars. I thought fifteen or twenty would last a year or two. I didn’t plan on living in the Ritz or de Crillon, or eating at Le Voltaire or Chez Georges. I didn’t plan on traveling. Find a cheap place live simply. Twenty-five would last longer.
It was winter in a college town. I could get a job but it would take too long. Dealing was the only way. Buy the white, sell the white. It was cold and people stayed inside and got drunk and did drugs. Buy the white, sell the white. It was the only way.
I took my two grand to my dealer and bought 40 grams. I cut in 10 grams of NoDoz and sold all 50 grams for five grand. Bought three ounces, which is 84 grams, and cut in 20 of NoDoz, and sold it for ten grand. There wasn’t enough demand at the school I attended, so I went to three others that were nearby. I took the ten and bought six ounces, which is 168 grams, and cut in 40 grams of NoDoz and sold it all for just over twenty grand. It took three months. I kept the money in a safebox. A huge pile of dirty green bills.
When I wasn’t dealing, I was reading. The French. Hugo and Dumas, Baudelaire and Rimbaud. When I wasn’t reading I was getting drunk. School didn’t matter anymore. What the fuck would I ever do with a degree. Stick it on my wall? Bring it with me when I went to apply for shitty jobs? Wipe my fucking ass with it? Deal read drink sleep. It was simple and focused. I needed money. I needed release. I needed to feed my brain. Deal read drink sleep. She found a new boyfriend, went on her couples spring break, I heard they were perfect for each other, he was from New York and wanted to be an investment banker. Whenever I saw her I turned and walked away. If we were in the same room or same bar I wouldn’t acknowledge her. She tried to say hello a couple times and I ignored her. I wasn’t trying to be a dick, or play some game, I just couldn’t see her or speak to her because it hurt me. Despite the decision I had made, I loved her. And it hurt me more that she moved on so quickly, seemingly so easily. I wanted to hate her, but I didn’t, and I couldn’t hate her, I loved her and it hurt me to think about her, remember, imagine her with someone else, seeing her or hearing her voice made me want to curl up in a ball and cry. I loved her and it hurt me.
The end of the school year was coming. Everyone was making plans. Move to NY get a job, move to Los Angeles get a job, go to law school, medical school, business school, move to Chicago get a job. The closer it got the more I felt it. I wanted out. To get the fuck out. Three weeks left. More or less had enough money to go. I went to a bar with some friends. The bar was crowded, loud, dense with smoke. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t have anything to say to anyone. Though I had spent the last four years with many of the people in the bar, their world wasn’t mine anymore. They were going on to bright futures and careers and degrees and accomplishments, money and mortgages and responsibilities and retirement plans. I was going to Paris, to walk and read and drink and smoke and write and dream and starve and rage and scream and smile and laugh and fuck and hurt and get lost and sit by the Seine and watch the world go by.
I saw her. She was with her friends, boyfriend nowhere to be seen. I hadn’t been with anyone since her, felt in some way that if I was good she might come back, even though I knew she wouldn’t. I saw her with her friends and I wanted her, more than I ever had wanted her, more than I had ever wanted anything. Wanted to kiss her, press myself against her, taste her, hear her moan as I moved inside her. Our sex life had always been sweet, simple. Lots of candles and soft music and clean sheets and quiet tender moments. It was loving and respectful and boring. In that bar I wanted to take her, ravage her, devour her. I wanted to fuck her. Long and deep and hard and wet. For the pure physical pleasure of it. For the blinding moment when I’d cum. I sat and watched her talk to one of her friends, laugh, move a lock of hair from her eye, take a sip from her glass, I watched her lips, her tongue.
I wanted.
Wanted.
Wanted.
I stood and walked over, she saw me coming, and she looked surprised, but smiled. Before she could say anything, I leaned to her ear and whispered.
I want to fuck you right now.
She laughed.
I do. Right now.
She looked at me, slightly confused, embarrassed. I kept going.
If I could, I’d wipe the bottles and glasses off that table and take you on it.
She kept looking at me, still smiling, still surprised.
Are you high?
I am.
Blow?
Yep.
Go away.
Let’s go outside.
Because I want to fuck you.
I stepped toward her, kissed her, slowly and deeply, and after a brief moment, she kissed back. When I pulled away she smiled, and I took her hand and without a word we walked out of the bar together. She asked me where we were going and I didn’t respond. We walked around the back of the building to the parking lot. It was dark, quiet, the lot was full, four rows of cars every spot taken. I saw her car a black European SUV in the back corner of the lot I walked toward it, holding her hand. As we neared it she reached into her pocket for her keys, I shook my head and took her other hand. We went around the back of the SUV and I started kissing her. She kissed me back, I pressed her against the back hatch, my hands wandering. She pulled away.
What if someone sees us?
My hands kept wandering.
They won’t.
The inside of her thighs.
What if they do.
Up her shirt.
Who cares.
The small of her back.
I do.
Her ass.
I leaned forward, kissed her, lips and tongues and breath. She was wearing a button-down shirt, a short skirt, my hands went into them, beneath them, pulled them open, lifted them. I kissed her neck started softly biting her nipples through her shirt my hands pulled her thong off one of her legs. I guided her hand to my cock, she opened my pants took it out, I put both hands on her ass and lifted her against the car and moved forward inside of her.
Hard.
Wet.
We both moaned. I started moving slowly inside her kissing her tasting her pressing her deep hard wet inside of her faster harder deeper dripping moaning lips tongue nipples hard faster harder deeper her hands on my chest my neck one of my hands on her ass the other on her tit faster harder deeper.
Dripping.
Moaning.
It was dark and quiet and we were in a parking lot fucking against a car I opened my eyes she was looking at me I looked at her our lips and tongues brushed she started to shake I smiled looked into her eyes faster harder deeper and as she shook, I came inside her, my brain exploded into a blinding white wave of
Joy
Pleasure
Peace
And God
It moved through me
Inside her
Deep hard and wet
Throbbing
Shaking
She moaned and I moaned and we came, we came, we came.
We came.
Joy
Pleasure
Peace
And God
We stood there for a moment. I was still hard inside her. My arms were around her, her arms around me. I kissed her neck. I whispered I love you. She whispered back I love you, we stood for a moment together, she set her head on my shoulder stood and breathed, we stood and breathed on each other’s necks, both still feeling, still feeling, still feeling, hard and wet and deep. She moved me from her and closed her shirt. When she was done, I smiled and I kissed her one more time and I turned and walked away.
I walked away walked back to the house where I lived I went to my room and I packed a bag. I went to my friend Andy’s room the friend who gave me the book and I left a note on his bed that said come visit sometime. I got in my truck parked outside a bank I slept in the truck. As soon as the bank opened I went inside the bank and did what I needed to do I left after twenty minutes. I sold my truck at a used-car lot and went to the airport. I had a passport, some clothes, $18,000 in traveler’s cheques and $1,200 in cash.
I got on a plane to Paris.