The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome

Andy contemplated my car for a few seconds, then looked at me, concerned. “Gwyn, you’re a fucking hippy.” I had barely started to spike a temper when he couldn’t keep up the façade anymore, and he started chuckling, eyes twinkling. It made me smile too. Butthole!

“That’s right, I am! You don’t have to be a dick about it. I’m not fucking ashamed of my beliefs, you anus!” He just kept smiling, so I gave his skinny butt a little shove out of the way. My car was a mess, I almost never had anyone else in it, so I needed to clear the passenger seat. It was covered with jewel cases full of cds, and the foot well had a nearly full trash bag full of empty diet coke cans. “Scoot over, I need to make you somewhere to sit, I’m not your bloody chauffeur.”

Andy leaned down and purred in my ear, “you would be the hottest chauffeur ever. I would show up late to every event,” and he started to run a hand over my ass. I was amused, but I wanted to make something pretty clear.

I turned towards him and looked up at him. I grabbed him by the belt and brought him up close against me. He wrapped his long arms around me, and I slid both my hands under his tattered shirt and ran them over his chest. “Andy, there is nothing wrong with being a chauffeur. But I’m a veterinarian.” And then I said, for the first time, the ridiculous line I’d thought up when I graduated. “I don’t just play doctor. I am a motherfucking doctor.”

I’ll be damned if it didn’t seem to work. Andy’s eyes got a little bigger and he smiled, biting his lip. “Well, Doc, make me an appointment. You can work on me any time.” I gave him a quick peck before I went back to trying to clean the car seat.

“Yeah, maybe later if we have time! But first, we need to get your hand checked out by a human med doctor, alright? Then I need to run Sherpa to the clinic.” Andy nodded as he inspected my bumper stickers. They honestly weren’t that bad- I had gotten rid of the most inflammatory ones prior to graduation. I still had my World Wildlife Federation sticker, a Spay & Neuter magnet, a pro-pet adoption magnet, an Alley Cat Allies sticker, and a few others. Honestly, Andy was probably mostly just giving me sass for having a Prius, he didn’t really know how much of an enviro-nut I was. Yet…

A short while later, once I’d cleaned up the front passenger side, I watched, amused, as Andy folded himself to get in the car. Once he was in, he had plenty of room, but the process was funny. The seat was already back as far as it could go because Drake had also been a tall motherfucker. As soon as I turned the key in the ignition, the strains of “I Love To Say Fuck” blasted through the car, making me laugh. I had forgotten I had last been listening to the Murderdolls’ ‘Beyond the Valley of the Murderdolls’ when I was in the car last night!

I looked over at Andy, he mostly looked confused at to why I was laughing. At that moment, it occurred to me that I was, yet again, driving a rock musician to the hospital for self-inflicted hand injuries, because I had pissed them off, and that kept me laughing for a good while longer.

Poor Andy just kind of smiled nervously, possibly contemplating my sanity. At the exit to the street from the parking lot, I reached over and held his hand for a while, then started singing/shouting along, which seemed to amuse him a little. The lyrics were so heinously vulgar, even my mother had been won over when I had played it for her. Once the song was over, I turned off the stereo.

“I was laughing because I forgot what CD I had left in my stereo.” His left eyebrow shot up a bit. “You can pick something else if you want. But look- it occurred to me that you might know, like, a lot of these bands. I mean, dude, that is just, so weird! I don’t know, man. Like, fuck, you know if these people are actually assholes!” That made him laugh.

“Yeah… It’s definitely strange to meet people whose music you’ve been listening to for years. And it’s totally shitty when they’re dicks, but a lot of them aren’t. But you can listen to whatever you want, it’s your car.” I saw him fussing with his hair in my peripheral vision.

“Alright, Murderdolls it is, then.” I turned the stereo back on, Andy was looking out the window. “Do you want my phone, still, so you can give Jon that info?” Andy nodded, and I pulled it out of my pocket. I couldn’t show him, since I was driving, so I just explained verbally how to get to the medical information screen.

As I drove and Andy was writing Jon, I tried my best to psychically sense whether or not he actually did, in fact, hate the Murderdolls. Were they really assholes? Unfortunately, I was severely lacking in the psychic power department, and sensed nothing regarding the Murderdolls from the extremely hot man messing with our phones in my passenger seat. Hmph. And, since I am one of those people that doesn’t like to ask for directions, or where things are in a grocery store, there was no way I’d just ask him. Not a fucking chance.

Notes

So, dudes, I finally managed to uncover most of the songs off of the various & sundry versions of Sex & Hollywood. ‘The Gunsling’ is fucking awesome! Holy fuck! Can I have an amen?

Anyways, sorry for the long time, no update- I’m still working on editing, but I figured I’d post this chapter I had while I was still working on it.

QOTD: has anybody actually read the entirety of this whole damned story? (if not, that's cool, i was just curious.) any particular favorite parts?

Yeah, dude, all fucking 124 pages of it, over and over. It’s a doozy! Haha!