His Name Is Jake Saunders

Jack Daniels

After the thanksgiving holiday, I decided to see Jack. I didn't let anyone know about it. Not Jake, not Angela, not Sabrina (who is on a business trip in L.A. and is coming back in a week; and happens to be the most fragile and emotional friend of them all).

I didn't plan this. It was kind of spur of the moment. I was on the subway heading uptown to see some wealthy, uptight people about an apartment (yes, I'm thinking of moving to richville but who knows if I can even afford the steep prices) when I decided to cancel and text Jack to see where he was at. I told him I was on the subway and if he was free right now, to let me know where he was staying in New York.

A couple of stops away and I hopped off to find myself on fifth and heading to the four seasons. Since when is Jack so fancy? Anyway, the concierge lady must have thought I was a hooker with the way I was dressed and she was looking at me. She appraised my faux-fur coat (a piece I'll be throwing away immediately considering how icky and scratchy it feels) and pointed an eyebrow up, her bottom lip angled downwards in displeasure.

"What was the name again?"

I sighed. "Jack Daniels."

I didn't think her eyebrow could go any higher, but it did. She thinks I'm making up some name like Evil Knievel, but it is true; his name, unfortunately, is reminiscent of the Jack Daniels drink. For years in middle school he had rare spouts of people dissing him for it, then came college and he was the 'Jack Daniels' guy. Everyone loved him.

Stuck up concierge lady eventually sent me on my way and I travelled the bright red carpets, around gold embellishments, in this classically trained elevator and found myself going down another wide red-carpeted, gold-embellished hallway. My heart skipped at every turn until I stood before Jack's door.

He is like alcohol, in the sense that he can become a dangerous addiction to me. The first taste always feels so good and bad all at once, it takes a bit to settle, but once you get used to him—used to every sting and every bite—it's a rush. A rush I can't seem to resist. It's not just him this time, I have enough smarts and brains to know that now. Will my motor skills be just as smart?

I tapped on the door with my knuckles and waited. Immediately regretting to not resist and just turn away.

One footstep. Two footsteps. The door flew open.

"Hi," I breathed.

"Hi," he replied, "I'm glad you came."

"Yeah. Me too."

And it was the truth...once that first taste settled.