George came over late last night bearing gifts of Papa John’s pizza. Amazingly, He wasn’t drunk and he promised me he wasn’t drinking when I had seen him earlier in the day driving. I guess I shouldn’t jump to conclusions about him like I did yesterday.
“Man, you be actin’ like my momma sometimes,” He told me as he laughed.
“Well, someone’s got to look out for you,” I replied.
George cued in on Carolyn. He saw a picture of her sitting atop my entertainment center in a frame. He was intrigued by our relationship.
“Does she be treatin’ you right?” George asked.
“She’s good to me,” I replied.
“I mean does she give you what you need in the sack?” George then asked bluntly reformatting his question.
“I don’t go asking you about your’s and Pookie’s sex life,” I replied. “I am not about to divulge I and Carolyn’s bedroom secrets just so you can go gossip about it.”
“Man, that first time just being out of jail with Pookie, I was about to bust a nut,” George replied coarsely.
I quickly held up my hand signifying for George to go no further.
“Spare me the details of you and Pookie’s bedroom antics,” I replied as I smiled amused, trying not to laugh.
Just the mere thought of George crawling atop Pookie and performing the old horizontal tango began to scar my brain.
I had finally grown terribly sleepy and was yawning continuously. I made subtle hints to George that it was my bedtime. We both ate the rest of the pizza and George bid me farewell.
“I ain’t goin’ to sleep until I get tired of life,” George told me as we walked out into my driveway. “I have missed months in jail and it is going to take me months to catch up.”
“Just don’t burn your candle at both ends,” I replied trying to imbue some common sense into George. It seems county jail has unleashed a wild man.
George drove off and then I went inside to brush my teeth, take a quick shower, and head for bed. I remember lying there trying to go to sleep with inescapable images of Pookie and George fucking each other’s brains out upon George’s release from jail. I was not a pretty thought. Pookie is not my idea of nubile attractiveness.
“I don’t even have to go to sleep to have nightmares these days,” I thought as I rolled over and finally drifted off into the land of much more comfortable and pleasant dreams.