I believe It was the fall of 99 when my friend Henan moved into my parents’ basement with me. The basement was acting as a temporary retreat for me after having another semester of school destroyed by another manic episode. It didn’t seem like Henan was living with me very long before a young woman called the house and had the “wrong number.’
I was in the basement totally zoned into a documentary on the history of the church when Henan came running down the stairs eager to tell me some news. It turned out that some young woman called my parents house and had the wrong number. Henan went on to tell me about how he gave her “the run around,” acting like he knew her, etc. She played into it, suggesting that they meet at a bar in Belltown.
I was somewhat entertained by his excitement, but when he asked me to accompany him to Belltown I declined. I was really into the documentary. After being begged for a while I put a tape into the VCR, pressed record, and we were off.
We ended up at some “yuppie” style bar that was new to us. We ordered a couple drinks and waited with anticipation. Sure enough, about 15min later a young woman walked in by herself. At first she walked by and said nothing. Then she walked back and asked, “are one of you guys Henan?” Henan replied yes and she requested that he come to her. She then asked him if he’s good in bed and he said yes. She replied, “let’s go.” He then informed her that I was with him. She told him to bring me along and that she had a friend at her place.
We entered the apartment and began to talk. It turned out that the host was training to be a tattoo artist, and was also a pot dealer. Her guest seemed kinda like a punker, and I don’t really remember her story. After mingling for a little while the host suggested that her friend and i go out and grab some beer.
During our “beer run,” the punker chick and I talked, and stopped at a bar before heading back to the apartment. At the bar we sipped on a couple drinks and did a little making out. I remember crawling across the pool table, kissing her, and spewing some sort of sexual “smack” talk. She basically told me she was down to fuck. Then she got a page from the tattoo chick.
On the way back to the apartment the punk chick informed me that her friend had to do a drug deal, and that I should wait across the street where Henan and I met the friend. She told me that Henan was there and that she and her friend would come and get us after they were done. She then asked me to give her my beer so she could put it in the fridge to keep it cool. Big mistake.
Henan and I waited and waited. As much as an hour passed. We’d been ditched. We were both pissed, but i had a very specific sort of anger welling up inside me. I thought to myself, “that little cunt stole my beer.”
We walked back across the street to get the beer back, but the gate was locked. We decided to wait for someone else to enter, and follow them in. Sure enough some people entered the building and we sneaked in behind them.
When we got to her door we the first thing we did is gave a simple knock. No Answer. So we knocked again, and again. Finally, she replied, “whose there?” When we told her it was us she yelled at us and said, “face it, you’ve been had!” I yelled back, “I just want my beer!” She yelled back, “I don’t have your beer!” After some more yelling back and forth and banging on the door she let us in.
Inside the entry way the yelling continued. She seemed to be alone. I told her again, “I just want my beer.” She told me again that she didn’t have it, but I could clearly see one of my beers on her kitchen counter. I then told her, “bullshit. that’s one of my beers right there.” I then took a step forward. I was going to walk into her kitchen and look in the fridge.
She then grabbed the beer bottle from off counter, and lifted it up above her head like she was going to strike me. Reflexively, i punched her in the face. She dropped to a squatting position, leaning against the kitchen cabinets. I then gave her a couple light kicks to the body. At this point she was screaming for help. I gave a quick look for the beer, then bolted. We stormed out her door. We were disoriented and had forgotten where we had entered the building. We ran out the first pair of doors we saw, which happened to be a fire exit. The building lit up with lights and loud sounds as we ran to the car.
I don’t think I ever finished watching that documentary.
