Chapter 2

I woke up early the next morning to hysterical banging, slapping, and screaming coming from my computer. Groggily, I pressed up from the bed. I padded over to the PC, squinting, and saw Luis, in full freakout mode, kicking and slapping at the door. Poor bastard was attempting, to no avail, to kick the heavy oakwood door in.

Good luck with that, Luis. A young guy that scrawny, probably a pill popper or a meth addict or smoking crack. No way a skinny junkie fuck like him could kick in that door.

Luis was looking pretty critical too. He had a big bump on the side of his head, right where I’d whapped him with the bat. His right arm was all gnarly and bloodied up, as well, but it looked like his dislocated shoulder was back in place. The rascal must have popped it back in by himself. Crickey! That had to hurt!

Grinning from ear to ear, I yawned, chuckled and, still in my silk teal Miami Dolphins pajamas, I ambled over to the hallway to chat with my guest.

“FUCK YOU, MOTHERFUCKER!!! FUCKING let me the FUCKING FUCK out!! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!!!” He kept repeating. Behind the heavy door his desperate shouts were audible albeit slightly muffled.

“Good morning, Luis!” I cut in, politely as possible, interrupting his outbursts. “How’d you sleep last night?” I inquired, standing by and leaning an ear toward the guestroom door.

A brief pause. The kicking, slaps ceasing.

“You ... How do you fucking know my name?”

Faux-outraged I replied, “Hey, Luis, easy there, partner. That is no way to speak to your host. After all the hospitality, after everything I have done for you,” to which Luis didn’t reply.

I turned my tone to cordial, “Look, I left you some food. Did you have breakfast yet? Er, be careful, though, not to pig out. You might need that food to last a few days.”

Still no reply.

“Fucking let me out of here!!!” He finally let loose and resumed fecklessly attacking the door.

“But Luis, why did you come galumphing over here if you didn’t want to stay for a while? It’s rather rude to drop by unannounced too. I think it’s best for you to think about the way in which you interact with your friends...

“I’ve left you a copy of the Bible, the Koran, a book on mindfulness by Sam Harris, as well as a book of the Buddha’s wisdom. So perhaps you can spend some time today discovering spiritual and personal enlightenment. In the end, your stay here could be very beneficial. Maybe after this you’ll become a monk, go move to India or Nepal ... Go live and farm on a mountain in the Himalayas ... Or maybe go volunteer at an orphanage ... Or go join Justin Wren, dig wells for the pygmies in the Congo ... You know, just find a better path in life.”

“MAN, FUCK YOU!!!! LET ME THE FUCKING FUCK OUT!!!!” Luis was fuming. I could picture steam shooting from his ears like in an old Bugs Bunny cartoon.

“Listen, buddy, I gotta go to work. That’s what a lot of people do, to make money. They work. They create or construct useful products or perform services in return for money. Some people, like me, even work here and there on weekends. And most hard-working folks like me don’t appreciate uninvited guests showing up and stealing autographed football jerseys, CDs, DVDs, and tablets. Family heirlooms too. Like, if I broke into Julia’s apartment, how would you feel?”

“Ugh, you went through my phone, you fucking freak psycho. I am going to fucking kill you!”

“Oh, I did go through your phone, Luis. And what’s with the ringtone? ‘How can I be homophobic? My bitch is gay.’ Like, is misogyny the best way to counter homophobia, Luis?”