My Memoir Outline:7-8

7

I work at Pizza Hut as assistant manager. It's 3:45 pm. I opened the store today and get off at 4. We need batteries for our scales. 

I walk around the corner and buy batteries at Radioshack. 

What are you doing later? the guy at Radioshack asks me. There’s a $300 karaoke contest at Acapulco restaurant in San Marcos and I’m thinking about going, I say. I’ll go with you, he says. He gives me his number. Okay, I’ll text you later, I say.

I get off work and get home and I change out of my work uniform. I put on the Batman tank top that I’ve had for years, and some jeans Ronnie got me at an online store in New York, years ago. I do my hair and make-up. I take off in my car for Acapulco.

I'm too early. The contest hasn’t started yet. I leave and go to the San Marcos Brewery across the parking lot for one of their Honey Ales.

I go back to Acapulco. The DJ is setting up. I sit at the bar and order a Margarita, double Patron Añejo. There’s a table of four Mexican guys behind me. One of them comes and sits next to me. He buys me another Margarita double. His name is Angel. I tell him about Ronnie and Lyle. He tells me about his ex and his kid. We show each other pictures of our kids on our phones. 

I sing Adele’s “Someone Like You”. My phone is dying. I tell Angel I gotta go out to my car to charge my phone. My plan is to leave. He follows me.

I plug my phone into the car charger and we go back into the restaurant. Angel buys me another drink. I drink it and say I have to go to the bathroom. I go to the bathroom and stay in there for a long time. I mess with my hair. I do more make-up. I go out and Angel’s still standing there waiting for me. 

Karaoke is over. The DJ is playing salsa music. Angel buys me another drink. I drink it. Let’s dance, he says. Okay, I say. We salsa for an hour until I can no longer stand.

I need to go charge my phone in my car now, he says. Come with me, he says. He pulls me by the hand and I go with him. 

We get in his car. He starts kissing me. I want to make love to you, he says.

We have sex. 

I tell him I have a boyfriend. He frowns and looks down. How can you have a boyfriend? he asks. Why didn’t you tell me that before? he asks. I don’t know, I say. It's not serious, I say. I told him I loved him and he didn't want me to use those words, I say. It really hurt, I say. You're gonna break up with him then right? Angel asks. Yeah, I say. Can I call you tomorrow? he asks. Sure, I say. I give him my number.

I’m drunk. I drive through In-n-Out Burger and get a #2 and eat it in the parking lot before the long drive on two freeways back home. I scream and cry and look at pictures of Lyle on my phone while I eat.

8

The next day, Angel calls and I don't answer. I text the saxophone player from SDSU who was in the jazz band with me three years ago in 2008. His name is Rico. He wanted me back then, but I was with Ronnie, and had been for seven years. Back then he kissed me after a jazz concert but I stopped him.

Hey, let's meet up tonight, he says. I can't wait, I say.

I don't work today. I go out and buy a little black dress and heels and new lingerie. I get home, shower, blow-dry my hair, and put make-up on. I put on the lingerie, the black dress and the heels, and I grab some jeans, Converse, and a button-up plaid shirt to change into for my ten-year high school reunion afterwards in Bonsall. It's tonight.

I get to Rico's parents' winery in Rancho Bernardo. I text him from the parking lot. He pulls up in his white BMW and rolls the window down and tells me to get in. I get in. He starts driving. 

I try to unbutton his pants. What the fuck are you doing? he asks. Did I say you could fucking touch me? he asks. I laugh and I stop.

He pulls over on a dimly-lit neighborhood street and pulls his pants down around his ankles. He shoves my head down onto him violently. Put your fist up my ass, he says, as he's pulling my head up and down by my hair. I can't breathe. I put my fingertips in first and he tells me to push them in harder. I throw up on him. Eat your vomit and keep eating my cock til I cum, bitch, he says. Put your fucking fist in my asshole, all the way, you cunt, he says. Oooh, yeah, fucking harder, he says. Now put your fucking fist up your ass, he says. I start with a couple fingers and he takes my hand and pushes it all the way in. He ejaculates into my throat and gag and I throw up again. He says, swallow all my fucking cum, bitch. Fucking swallow it, he says. Mmmm, you like that, huh, you like that you fucking cunt, he says. I gag a few times, then I throw up some more, then I swallow what's left.

He drives me back to my car. I get out. He drives away. I get into my car.

I clean myself up and I scream and cry. I take off my black dress and heels on the freeway as I drive and cry. I get into my plaid shirt and jeans and Converse shoes.

I park my car at the country club. Evan is calling. He doesn't know about Angel or Rico. I don't answer. I don't want to be with you any more, I text. Come on baby, don't end it so fast, he texts. Where are you? he texts. My ten-year high school reunion, I text. Let me come meet you, he texts. No, I text. I turn my phone off. I fix my make-up and hair. 

I go into the country club and sit down at the bar. I order a Jack Daniels Single Barrel and Coke, double.

I mingle with people I recognize. Jorge Montoya is talking to me, along with his friend Sakito Uchiyama. 

I drink two more Jack and Coke doubles while mingling. We all take some group photos.

Everybody is leaving the country club and going to a bar called Ringers a couple miles away. I go too. I'm drunk.

I sit at a raised, small table with Jorge and Sakito. They buy me a blue-ish green drink. I don't know what it is. I drink it.

There’s a band. Me and Lisa Lopez start dancing together up front.

I sit down at the table with Jorge and Sakito. They buy me another drink. Then I start dancing with Lisa again. The guitarist motions for me to get up on the stage. I get up on stage and the guitarist gives me his pick. I strum his guitar while he holds his guitar.

Jorge and Sakito buy me another drink. Sakito and I go outside to talk. It's cold. We put our arms around each other and we talk about our college majors, him math, me music. I hate how there's so little funding for music, I say. Music is math, I say. You could use music to teach math, I say. I work for the government, he says. I'll pay you $1500 to come up with a way to use music to teach math, he says. I have a software guy, he says. Cool, I say. We can have all kinds of exercises on it that use math and music together, I say. We’re going to Cambodia to an orphanage in a month, he says. We can implement the program and teach the kids how to build musical instruments using math, I say. Sakito says great, let's do it. Okay, use the $1500 to buy my ticket, I say. Sounds good, he says.

We go back inside. The band is done. They’re starting to leave. The guitarist puts his arms around me and walks me to their van with them and helps me inside. 

We smoke weed. 

The drummer in the front seat unzips his pants and the two guys in the back seat take my pants off. I go down on the drummer in the driver’s seat while the guitarist and someone I don’t recognize fingers me from the back seat. I make out with the singer in the passenger seat and then go down on the drummer some more. She gives really good head, you guys, he says. 

They let me out of the van and Jorge is waiting for me back at the entrance to the bar. He asks if he can follow me home. I say yes. 

Jorge follows me home and comes inside. We have sex in my bedroom in what used to be my grandma’s bed. Can I do you in the ass, he says. Sure, I say. He does. He goes home. I pass out.