Delilah’s

He had been staring at me all night. Just gawking. I was wearing a hoodie so don’t get any ideas as to how to blame this on the low cut of my blouse. He was arrogant. Attractive, sure for a man whose hair was thinning and teeth were tiny bricks of table butter. But I could see that sometime, in the distant past, some women probably looked at him like he was something.

I live two stories above Delilah’s and we have the off-season roaches to prove it. I had just gone down for a nightcap. Couldn’t sleep. Who could with what’s going on downtown. These protests, god love ’em, but fuck — a woman needs her whiskey. So I really wasn’t dressed for anything and I didn’t want to be bothered. They know me there and I know them. And I don’t know what it was, but when he walked over and sat beside me, Howard was his name, I just kind of wanted to … fuck with him. No, no I did not want to fuck Howard. I wanted to play his game. And win. So I did the thing, laughed at his jokes, but not all of them, let him pick up my drink. I wanted him to think in his head that he had done everything right. Checked all of the boxes.

I stood outside while he settled the tab and shared a cigarette with Bill. Bill’s good people. Works in the kitchen. Howard came outside, blathered something and then I let him follow me upstairs. When we got to my apartment it was a mess. But I didn’t even pretend to clean it up. I just let him see it. I knew he was getting hesitant so I offered him a joint.

We smoked for a bit and I put on Gordon Lightfoot. I turned up “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” loud and told him it reminded me of my father. What a fucking schmuck, he really believed all the shit I was saying. So anyway, he starts kissing my neck and running his hands all over my … well everything. I asked if he had protection. He said “What like a gun?” and laughed. Oh Howard was such a riot. At least he thought so. I just looked at him. He got nervous. I could see the vein in his forehead poke out a little. I was getting to him. This was the first moment any moisture gathered anywhere for me. I dimmed the lights the old fashioned-way, with an old hand me down nearly see through shirt thrown over the lamp. This is when I started giving it back to him.

After I could tell he felt comfortable enough, at ease enough I told him. I told him what I’m into. I mean you guys saw him there tied to the bed. You can put two and two together. He let me do it. Begged me to tie his wrists and his ankles. Instructed me to tie them tight. Men will do nearly anything if it means they get to get off. You’re all the same. You’re all just horny schmucks.

By this point he’s stark naked, hog-tied and ready to squeal. I turned the music up louder and left the room. I came back with that knife in that bag right there and shoved it in his chest four times. Once for the daddy, once for his son, once for the holy ghosts and once just because I fucking wanted to. Then when he was done squirming and screaming I turned down the music, put my clothes back on and went back downstairs to Delilah’s. Bill was still outside and this time he gave me my own cigarette. You think a smoke after sex is good? Doesn’t come close. And then after I stomped it out, that’s when I called you.