Dirt

A Modern Day Shakespeare

    After a satisfying sip of vodka and a long sigh Trevor asked the question I could no longer deny him the answer to, "Who are you?"
    "I'm a university student too broke to afford a spring break vacation and too self pitying to deny myself one. I guess that says just about everything. You know how friends are, luring you into things too good to be true and then next thing you know you're sleeping on the floor of a trailer they told you was cozy in a rustic sort of way while outside some drug riddled mind is screaming that he's being eaten alive by bats, which he may have very well been since I doubt the park has any form of pest control." Before I knew it I had indulged in an alcohol induced ramble and wasn't quite sure what the original point of my speech had been.
    Trevor scoffed, "You know, your name would be nice. Your life story is nice too but to be honest I don't really give a shit." He let out a dry laugh, "I'm just fucking with you sugar-tits, but you're avoiding my question, now it's time to spit it out." He took a large gulp of his drink.
    There was something about the man that was oddly charming but that didn't stop me from scowling at him, "Fuck off, I was enlightening you on my true essence, and besides, a rose by any other name, you know, all that Shakespearian bullshit." I then burst out in a fit of giggles, admiring my own wit, rather amplified by my beverage of choice.
    Trevor leaned in towards my face knowing that the best way to get information out of anyone is through the use of torture, "You'd be surprised how much of a Shakespeare connoisseur I am; I am indeed one savvy motherfucker. The man was full of shit, biggest thief out there. Now, without further ado, your name please."
    I contorted my mouth slightly and huffed out a bit of air unable to cope with the burning proximity of our two beings for a moment longer, "Nora."
    "Well it's a pleasure to meet you Nora," He reached a hand out and touched mine, even through my intoxication my heart seemed to stop and I froze in place, "Was that so hard now?" He asked mockingly.
    His hand was rough to the touch and even as it rested atop mine I could feel the mountainous plains of numerous scars, wounds piled on top of each other having learned to live with one another but never completely coexist. "You know if I'd of known you could seduce a girl just by holding her hand I would've saved myself a hell of a lot of sexual assault charges." He chuckled in a manner that confused me as to whether he was joking or so at peace with himself that the crimes of his past were fond memories of better days.
    I pulled my hand away swiftly and sipped at my drink, hoping the alcohol would dull whatever anxieties were making themselves known in my brain. I tried to find whatever confidence I could and I found it in my vodka, "Not seduced, just drunk. You're giving yourself too much credit Trevor." My voice wavered as my little self conscious fears tried to escape my mouth; more vodka would fix this, so I sipped until my glass was empty. "Two more please." I stated without looking at Trevor as he drank the rest of his cup without hesitation and dropped it onto the counter next to mine.
    The slow trickling warmth of my liquor made its way down to my stomach, burning ever so slightly, and as it did I felt my inhibitions leave my body and bidding me farewell. It was that kind of drunk when you're unsure of whether you want to lie down and sleep or get up and dance.
    "Do you want to dance?" He suddenly asked, calmly, nonchalantly, as if he had been reading my mind. He very well might have been reading my mind and at the time it seemed like a very logical possibility, and that made me laugh. "You think I'm joking don't you?" He inquired with a smirk.
    I allowed another laugh to escape, "No I don't, but that wasn't a part of the deal." I turned to face him with a twinge of excitement bubbling in my chest. I had no idea if this was eagerness or a sense of impending doom but either way whatever self-respecting part of my mind was still able to function was appalled at the fact that I felt even the slightest inclination to dance with this man.
    "I didn't hear a no." Trevor mused melodically, "You know it's becoming more and more obvious that you're in love with me."
    I scoffed almost gagging at his conclusion, "You fucking wish!" I proceeded to laugh warily as if I were making an attempt to humour a bearer of bad jokes and took another swig.
    "Come on, pity this old prick and dance with him, I'm paying for your drinks after all." He reached out an touched my hand in the same paralyzing manner as he had before, this time going as far as to grasp it in his own, "Don't make me beg now, sugar." For the second time that night he dropped from his stool onto one knee, "Nora my fair lady love, lovelier than a summer's day, lovelier than the darling buds of May, an eternal summer that shall not fade-"
    "Okay, okay it's enough!" I covered my eyes with my hand, clumsily lacking in my perception of distance, while silently laughing and attempting to catch my breath. There was something about his gruff voice that made Shakespeare sound more beautiful than I had ever heard it recited. "You've proven yourself worthy, let us dance!" I exclaimed in an attempted accent of a pretentious Shakespearean actress, "You may rise noble knight."
    "That's what I'm talking about! Now let's cut this crappy music and put on something that wasn't written by a guy whose parents are brother and sister." Trevor stood up briskly to make his way towards the artifact that was the radio, in the meantime I took this opportunity to check on my so called friends to make sure they were not looking upon me with too much scrutiny. To much of my content they seemed to be playing a game of football with crumpled napkins and howled with giggles at their own petty fun, unaware of little else.
    An abrupt roar of static arose in the room as Trevor violently fiddled with various knobs on the radio, paying little attention to the discomfort of those in the room sober enough to give a damn. Without warning the man collapsed on the bar counter top, Jim, rose from his slumber like a mighty dragon whose golden goblet had been stolen and who was out for bloodthirsty vengeance. "The fuck is this bullshit, what happened to the music?" He blurted in-between hiccups verging on gags. His accent was so thick I could almost smell it, though that could have easily been the aromas of gin emanating from his every orifice and threatening to give anyone in the surrounding 5 meters a contact high.
    "Jim, I'll tell you this one time and one time only, calm the fuck down. I like you Jim, just calm your fucking shit alright? I'm just changing the station." Trevor told him with a distinct threatening air to his voice, and though he raised his hands as if to protect himself everyone in the surrounding area knew that they were raised to fight.
    "Trevor your fuckin' asshole," He stumbled towards Trevor slurring his words with his fists waving pathetically, "Why d'you always pull this bullshit, you fuckin' fucking fuck."
    "I'm warning you Jim, don't fucking touch me, go sit your ass down on your piss soaked stool and, you know what, I'll buy you a beer okay, how about that Jim?" The anger in his voice rose sharply though his words were kind. Even from across the bar I could see his teeth clenched together and the veins in his neck swell with hot purple blood. Everything within my being told me he was boiling and that tonight was no exception to Trevor's history of breaking things in The Janitor's Closet.
    With one last fatal stumble and still yelling incomprehensibly Jim swung his arm like a small child swatting a fly, and the rest happened so quickly that there was simply no time for my vodka-dampened mind to react.
    Before I even had time to blink Trevor had swiftly grabbed the empty beer bottle on a nearby table and shattered it over the drunk man's skull, flinging tiny glass snowflakes in every direction. Next was the vacant chair, lifted as gracefully as a figure skater lifts his skating partner, and then violently striking Jim's backside and splintering old wood. Within the very same second Lucy leapt from her petrified state to scream with more vigour that I would have ever imagined her capable of, "Harry, Harry you lazy fucking drunk, get this piece of shit out of here!"
    And then within the very next second the older gentleman I would have assumed to be dead, leaking bodily fluids on the stained tile, sprang to life from his home in the corner to embrace Trevor with the strength of 10 bull elephants and whisk him away from poor bloodied Jim, already unconscious on the floor.
    "Let me the fuck go Harry! It was fucking self defence, Jim's a fucking lunatic!" He screamed and struggled, but evidently all of his might, which appeared to be quite a bit considering his recent battle, was nothing compared to the firm grip of Harry. It all happened in less than a minute, and I was completely and utterly stunned and Trevor had been dragged out of the bar, his screams fading into the distance.