CHIME
(TWELEVEN)
Another
Friday in Brno sets the underbelly of the city on a call to action. Clubbers
need to be serviced, money is to be made, rent is to be paid. All accompanied
by the ever-echoing sounds of a centuries old myth.
The bell rang 12 even
though it was eleven and that could only mean two things.
ONE – We are in Brno, a
city that couldn´t be bothered to set the clock properly back since the Swedes
came to do their rodeo here 400 years ago.
TWO- He will be here in
exactly 4 minutes.
And so I wait, wait,
wait and what do you know, just like clockwork he is leaving his office and
heading towards the statue of the mermaid, where we have our meetup. I know he
will be here in 4 minutes, because there is no way in hell you could survive
that long doing what he does if you do not have a routine and do not stick to
your principles. If your game is organized and clean, the world might think you
are organized and clean too. Even though you might be the dirtiest bastard to
ever leave the Obilní trh maternity ward.
“Jirko!”, he nods with a
huge grin.
“Matheus!”, I jerk my
head and force a smile.
I wonder why he always acts so surprised. It´s
been every Friday, 11:04 at the same spot for almost a year now. The same game
of pretend that we are so happy to see each other, the same order I have for
each Friday, the same handshake during which I deposit a crumbled 1000 Czech
crowns note and two hundreds in his hand and in the same hand and the same
smooth motion he deposits a folded paper the size of a stamp into my hand.
“How you been Jirko?”
“Good, but you know,
gotta go now!”
“Oh sure, I bet you are
busy, we should go grab a beer someday what you think?”
“Yeah, sure…we´ll call
and arrange!”
“Great!”
I haaate those fake
conversations you must always have. Like it matters if we were honest to each
other and just straight up went along the honest lines of:
“Hey Jirko, came to buy
some speed from me again?”
“Yes, and I honestly do
not want to talk with your fake ass more than necessary so, since we did the
exchange I will be fucking off.”
“Likewise!”
“See you next Friday at
the same time, when I need drugs again!”
“Can´t wait to earn some
more money off you soon!”
Meh, but I guess that is what differentiates us from animals. The
ability to be aware that all of us know a common truth, but pretend like it´s
not there. Be it a politician saying he regrets going to that hotel with that
young girl, the insurance guy saying how he is pleased to meet you or even your
lawyer saying he is so sorry, that he couldn´t help you get visitation rights
to see your kids. Can you imagine? Ads for fast food joints saying stuff like
“Hey, at least it doesn´t cost a fortune” or insurance companies writing on
their billboards “You probably won´t even need it, but the government makes you
buy it, so come to us, we are a bit cheaper than the others”. World of deceit
it is. Just like the clock comforting me with the fact, that it is lunchtime,
even though I might be still too soon to get a bargain menu anywhere, since it
is just eleven. But hey, who needs food when you´re jacked on amphetamines? Not
this guy! So instead of lunch, I am headed to the tobacco shop, get a can of
lager and smoking papers and off I go to my garsoniere
to enjoy the fruits of today´s labor. God I love saying Garsonier, just rolls out of your mouth
and makes your shitty studio seem like a posh French apartment in which you
drink absinthe and compose piano pieces. Except, that in this spot we listen to
tekkno and smoke crystal through lightbulbs.
_ - _ - _
OK, all piled up! I had
to dry the speed with a few cigarette papers. That’s the only disadvantage of
dealing with Matheus, his shit is way cheap and way good, but he always brings
it in wet. Needs to be dried quickly though, I have to be at Daniel´s at 14:00
exacto, or he will be calling me 8 times per minute again asking with his
horribly shaky voice where am I. And the last think you need, is a tweaked out
pusher calling the phone that is registered to your name. I hate myself for
being too lazy to buy an extra disposable SIM card, but at least it keeps me
more aware and cautious I guess.
“Next stop, Zelný trh”
And off I go. Through
the passage, to the left, knockity knock! God damn this stuff is riding me!
Knockity knock! Hahaaa, you wouldn´t catch me dead saying that kiddie shit.
“Come in!” says the
voice behind those two huge pulsating eyes with almost suspiciously clean and
white sclera peeking through the little bit of opened door.
We sit down and get to
our usual Friday shtick. I talk about how I hate my storage boy job, even
though it´s just part time, he tells me about how the planes are dropping mind
controlling acid on us. While doing all that, we are cutting the speed into
small pieces and mixing it with paracetamol. Then we are counting pills of E
and dividing them into two halves, each into our own chewing gum packets. After
we smoke a joint to calm down, listen to some music, have a line or two and we
are ready to hit the club. We run for the next bus there and as usual, our timing
is perfect. Even though two nazi looking pigs were giving us the eyes, nothing
happened and we were next to the club at the amazing hour of eight twenty five
PM. Between eight and ten, it is the magic hour. People had their drinks and
they are slowly getting tired of drinking, yet the party is in full swing and
will go on at least until six a.m. And that is, when we step in. The exotic
pharmacists.
_-_-_
Night is going swell, I
already amassed enough money for a re-up and Daniel is buying drinks to some girls
and dancing so I guess he is good to. At this point, it is time to relax and
actually enjoy the party. So I simply head over to the bar with the least
people in it and wait my turn to get a Jack and coke. The most uncreative drink
of pretentious assholes. But I´m too high to care so whatever. I clock this guy
and he nods his head in that familiar “Hey you got something?” way. So I shimmy
my way to his seat, sit down and start the small talk. Where he from, what he
doing here and so on. He´s telling me some shit about him being here with his
buddies from Pardubice, and that this is his favorite DJ and they follow him
all over the Republic and blaaa blaaa blaa. Then he mentions, that they are
looking for some pills. That’s when my radar turns on and I start playing the
game.
“What do you mean
pills?”
“You know, pills, E,
happy pills, XTC…”
“Oh thooose pills.”
“Yeah…”
“Hmm, well I don´t know
about any of that, but maybe you can follow me to the toilet and I can show you
something”
“Hey man I ain´t no faggo…”
Before he finished, he
turned all red and laughed realizing how dumb he is. He stood up and we proceed
to the toilet. We have to wait our turn, someone is probably sniffing my speed.
A girl with dreadlocks, amazing tits but horrible face leaves the cabin with a
dude rocking the same shitty haircut all the tekno guys do. Short stubble on
the top and 5-6 dreadlocks in the back. I like to call that shit the Moravian
mullet. Anyway, after they were done doing their biz, we enter and lock. I show
him my chewing gum packing with 30 pills in it. They have two different
pictures on them and are of different colors too!
“So the blue ones are
more speedy and will get you going till the morning. They got the SKYPE logo on
the if you want to pop it into Pillreports. The red ones are more of a MDMA
kind of high, so you know mellow, happy and all that shit. Both are 200 a pop.”
“Wow they look cool man,
I think my mates would like some too, I am gonna go arrange with them. I don´t
even have money here with me, let´s meet in few minutes.”
“You fucking weekend
junkie, you come here with me and don´t even bring cash. Jeesus go arrange with
your fucking mates, but let me tell you this isn´t the way you do it. Other
guys would already kick your face in.”
He goes pale and says
nothing. Leaves. Who knows I might have fucked up. Anyway, no worry, re-up is
taken care of and what I don´t sell tonight I still can sell tomorrow. Back to
partying again. Some cunt stole my drink, shit, gonna go get another one.
Also…Where is Daniel? Haven´t seen him for some time too. But I haven´t seen
the girls either. Shit, did he actually pull them? I can´t believe that
skeleton looking motherfucker managed to pull of such hot pieces of ass while
I´m sitting here dry. But I guess that is how life goes. I surely am the
biggest fan of my own handsomness, who knows, maybe I am an ugly cunt for the
rest of the world. Oh well, the party is actually shit, I don´t like this tekk
house that much anyway. Might as well bounce and go get some beers to Martina´s
bar. I bet she´s working. She always works Fridays.
Off I go then, just a
quick stop behind the club. What I love about this place is, that the other
side is just a freaking field. So if the toilets are crammed or you find
yourself a dreadlock queen to get intimate with, you can always find a hideout
in this vast plane of dry grass, used condoms and empty bottles. But the best
thing is, that you can take a peaceful piss here. So I unzip my pants and
release myself. The worst thing about sniffing crystals is, that your piss
smells like burning tires and antibiotics afterwards. Mid-releasing my nuclear
waste I hear steps approaching behind me.
“Hey boy!” I hear in a
Ukrainian accent
“HEY BOY!” he yells
louder. There are two other guys with him. I think one of them is that shit
stain from the bathroom.
“Who you calling a boy?”
“My mate here tells me
you have some of that good. Gives us!”
“Sure mate, how many
would you like, they 200 a piece.”
“All, and we not
paying!” he says with a grin. And you immediately know what kind of guys you
dealing with. I shake my dick dry, put it inside my pants and face him face to
face.
“Oh aren´t you, well I
guess we have a problem then.” He starts approaching me, doing the macho man
walk of an overly self-conscious peacock. I know this shit exactly, I let him
get close to my face so he can say something tough. Little does he know, I
dealt with this before. He stops maybe 20 cm from me and puts his face so close
to mine while shoving my shoulder a bit with his.
“Then I guess I have to
take i…” and just before he says the last sound, I headbutt him and he falls on
the ground. “SUKA” he yells and I start laughing. Then I approach the pussy
from the toilet, who is pale and scared shitless by the time I am next to him.
“You cunt, what the fuck
are you trying to pull off here? You think this is a fucking Guy Ritchie
flick?”
“I-I-I..” he gets a headbutt too. This one hurt me a bit tough. I start
punching him and kicking him on the floor while glancing back. The Ukrainian
fucker is still on the floor holding his broken nose. I continue punching the
pale boy, when suddenly I feel it. It is cold, then it becomes warm and a lot
of liquid drips down my back and my butt crack. And there it is it is cold
again, this time a bit higher than the last time, somewhere near my spine in
the upper half. Can´t even tell if it is the left or the right side. And there
is that wet feeling again. My knees are weak, my head becomes light and I am
falling even though I don´t want to. I can feel air going inside of me through
the two holes in my back. Now I feel it the third time, it is in my shoulder.
It stays cold and I don´t feel any liquid. As I fall down, I see them all run
away, yelling, one of them kicking me before leaving. I don´t even know and I don´t
even care. I just hear the bell ring. And I count. One, two, three. I collapse completely. Four, five, six, seven. I reach for my neck and feel a handle of a
knife. At least I know how it happened. Eight,
nine, ten. It all starts to be blurry and I am not in pain or cold anymore.
Eleven, twelve…then there is a sound.
Was it number twelve, or was it just a random sound from the party? It is not
clear. So did I die at eleven or at twelve?
“Tweleven” I say out
loud for the cigarette bags and ugly graffiti on the wall next to me. “Tweleven
is when I die!” And they just silently listen.
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