Unstoppable

by Scott Hildreth

  Naturally intelligent, and as mean as a snake. An odd combination, but that’s who I am. As smart as I am, I have never been able to determine why I felt the way I did about crippled people and midgets. It bothers me and I know it’s wrong, but I can’t change it. I can’t really accept it either.

  I grabbed a handful of throttle and closed the gap between Dekk’s bike and mine. As we sped down the highway toward downtown, it dawned on me. I was doing what I’ve done pretty much my entire life.

  Relationships.

  Getting a real job.

  Facing my fears.

  I was running.

  Hell, maybe I’m a little bit smarter than I look.

  RIPP. “You seriously are going to say you like someone based on their looks alone,” Dekk looked over his shoulder, studied her for a minute, and slowly turned back to face me.

  “Dude, don’t stare, you’ll freak her out,” I whispered.

  “I wasn’t staring, I just looked. You told me to,” he whispered back.

  “Well, what did you think? And I didn’t say I liked her. I said I liked looking at her and watching her walk. Wait till she walks again, I’ll tell ya. Dude. Dude. She’s fucking smoking,” I slowly shook my head from side to side as I watched her walk toward her girlfriends.

  “She’s beautiful, no doubt about it. But people are more than their looks alone. She could be an awful person,” Dekk rubbed the sides of his face with his hands.

  “And she could be a humanitarian. That’s my point, I want to find out,” I nodded my head in her direction.

  “You’re like a two hundred-fifty pound kid,” Dekk sighed.

  “Two-thirty. And yeah, we all are. Or at least, we should be. I like being a kid. Holy fuck, dude, look at her calves when she walks,” I nodded my head in her direction again.

  Generally speaking, I am a good judge of character. I don’t know if it makes me a good boxer, or if being a good boxer has helped me be a good judge of character. Most of the time, I can tell from looking at someone if they are a good or bad person. I’m not psychic, nor can I see into the future. I can, however, accurately categorize people. The good and the bad.

  She was about five foot six in her heels, give or take an inch or so. I’d guess about five foot two without them. Physically, she was what most would describe as athletic. Her attitude was apparent by her hand gestures, the way she walked, and how her friends paid attention when she spoke. Her brunette hair was a little past her shoulders, and she wore a black pencil shirt and heels. Her attitude and presence demanded I pay attention to her. And, well, she was absolutely gorgeous. I watched as her girlfriends played pool and she told a story.

  She was the type of woman who caused men to do stupid shit they would later look back on with disbelief. When asked why, a shoulder shrug and quick gesture toward her would cause the person inquiring to just nod in complete understanding. She was that gorgeous.

  “Well, on a scale of one to ten, what do ya say?” I asked as I sank into my seat and took a sip of my beer.

  “Definitely a ten from what I can see from here. And what the fuck are you doing? You’re hiding your beer?” Dekk chuckled.

  I shrugged my shoulders and slowly sat up in my seat.

  “Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing. Tell me what to say,” I pushed my beer to the side of the booth and rubbed my hands on my shorts.

  “What to say?” he sat up in his seat and raised his hands in wonder.

  “Yeah. I need to talk to her. You know, say something. You’re a walking Hallmark card, Dekk. Give me something,” I leaned forward and rested my forearms on the table.

  Dekk sat and stared at me through the hood of his sweatshirt and brushed the sides of his head in his hands.

  “I can’t tell you what to say. Just walk over there and talk to her,” he pulled his hands from his hood and shook his head.

  “Dekk, look at me. You know me. If anyone does, you do. I knock motherfuckers out and fuck bitches. I don’t love ‘em. I fuck ‘em. I might have said something once or twice which ended up being sweet, but it wasn’t intentional. I want to go over there, say something, and have her think, holy shit - this guy is so sweet,” I nodded my head as I thought about Dekk providing the perfect poetic phrase.

  “I don’t know. Shit, Ripp. You could…” Dekk rolled his eyes, looked up, and then focused on my face and stared.

  “Make it good,” I leaned closer to the center of the table and rubbed my hands together.

  Dekk rotated in his seat and watched her over his shoulder as he stretched his arms outward. When he turned to face me, he smiled and slowly shook his head. Brushing the hood off of his head was proof he was really putting some serious thought into what he was going to say.

  “I’m sure if I tell you you’re gorgeous, I wouldn’t be the first. It goes without saying you’re a strikingly beautiful woman. That’s not why I’m here. You have a certain presence about you, and it commands attention, and certainly demanded mine,” Dekk took a slow breath and started to continue.

  “Dude, stop,” I raised my forearms from the table and leaned back into the seat.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You really think I’m gonna remember all that mumbo jumbo shit? Damn, Dekk. Give me your fucking hoodie,” I said as I leaned back toward the table.

  “What?” he asked again.

  “Say what again, motherfucker. Say what again,” I joked, mimicking Samuel L. Jackson from Pulp Fiction.

  “You want my hoodie?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I pointed to my chest, “Look at me. I’m wearing a wife beater and I’m covered in tats. I want the hoodie. So I’ll look like a normal person.”

  “But you’re not a normal person,” Dekk chuckled.

  “Don’t tell her that. Give up the hoodie,” I laughed as I leaned back in the seat.

  Dekk shook his head, unzipped the hoodie, and pulled it off. As he handed it over the table, he smiled his Dekkar grin. Life gives us good friends, great friends, and our best friends. Dekk, without a doubt, was the best friend life could ever offer anyone. As I reached for the hoodie, I leaned into the corner of the booth to hide as I pulled his hoodie over my shoulders.

  “It’s ninety degrees outside, and I’m wearing a fucking hoodie. See how dumb this looks?” I chuckled.

  “You look dumb, and I feel naked,” Dekk said as he crossed his arms over his chest

  “Fucking small assed shit you wear,” I complained as I zipped it up.

  “Unzip it a little, you’re going to stretch it out,” Dekk wagged his finger up and down as he pointed to the hoodie.

  “I’m gonna have to unzip this bitch so I can breathe,” I sighed as I unzipped it to the middle of my torso.

  “Now give me something simple,” I said as I leaned back into the center of the booth and looked toward the group of women.

  Dekk looked up at the ceiling, drew a slow breath and started speaking as he looked down.

  “Hi, my name’s Mike. I want to spend the next two years determining what it is that makes you happy, and the rest of my life doing it,” Dekk smiled.

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes, “Forget it, Dekk. Just fucking forget it.”

  I slid out of the booth and stood. I pushed my hands into the two sizes too small hoodie and stretched it down further, attempting to make it look like it fit. I pulled my toothpick from my mouth and without thinking, handed it to Dekk.

  “I don’t want that nasty fucker, toss it on the table,” he mumbled.

  I tossed the toothpick onto the table and started walking toward the women. As I walked closer, she became more attractive, real, and unapproachable. I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life, and I sure as fuck wasn’t afraid to talk to her. More accurately, I was afraid of what she might say in return. Rejection doesn’t sit very well with me. I thought about going to the bathroom and talking to her as I returned to the table, but that would be less personal. As I got within a few feet of the group, I turned to face h
er and inhaled a short breath. As I exhaled, she looked over her shoulder, noticed me, and repositioned where she was standing to face me. Her eyes quickly glanced down at my Chuck’s, hesitated, and then up to my face.

  “Hi,” she smiled.

  Nobody has teeth that white.

  “Hi. I’m Ripp. My friend and I came in here to cool off and relax,” I motioned toward the booth where Dekk and I were sitting.

  “Ripp?” she raised her eyebrows just enough to indicate wonder.

  C’mon, God. Help me out. I need this.

  “Yeah, Ripp. I uhhm, I like things that are perfect. I couldn’t help but notice, from way over there,” I motioned toward the booth again, “that your eyebrows. Well, they’re perfect. Like perfect, perfect.”

  Slowly, her smile grew and she clasped her hands together, “My eyebrows?”

  Fuck yeah. She likes it.

  “Yep,” I smiled as I pushed my hands deeper into Dekk’s pockets.

  “You came here to advise me you liked my eyebrows?” she stepped forward with her right foot, arched her back a little, and studied my face as she attempted to hide her smile.

  It takes a lot to impress me. Women, to me, are primarily all the same. They provide entertainment, that’s it. Personally, I’ve never had a problem picking up women. I’ve had my fair share, and never really been in a relationship to speak of. Additionally, I don’t know if a woman really ever impressed me. Not to a point I would actually admit it. Standing before this woman, I could safely state not only did she impress me, but I was quite certain no other would ever do so to this degree. Now standing three feet from my face, try as I might, I could not find one single flaw. Not one. Perfect skin. Perfect posture. Her clothes fit perfectly. Her jewelry was perfect, and she smelled perfect. Slowly, I inhaled through my nose, hoping to memorize her scent.

  “Nope. I came here to tell you they were perfect,” I pulled my hands from the hoodie rubbed them on my shorts.

  “And as I sat and admired your eyebrows, I couldn’t help but notice you have good…uhhm, gestures,” I waved my hands in front of me in circles.

  “Gestures?” she rested her hands on her waist and cocked her hips.

  “You use your hands when you talk. You’re…what’s the word I’m looking for?” I scanned the area where her friends stood and then fixed my eyes on hers, “theatrical. You’re theatrical.”

  “And that is what you came here to tell me?” she chuckled.

  “That and I want an opportunity to get to know you,” I explained.

  “Well Ripp, I just might give you one. Are you a bad boy all of the time?” she asked.

  “Only when I have to be,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “Interesting. Well, I’m Vee,” she sighed as she extended her arm and offered her hand.

  “Have you a phone?” she asked as I shook her hand.

  “No, I left it in the booth,” I responded as I released her hand.

  “Well, I’m here for lunch with some associates from work, and we’re going to have to return soon,” she paused.

  “I work at Simon, Simon, and Simone, right around the corner under the Bat Bridge. It’s easy to remember. Google it. Call me there at the office. Just ask for Vee. We’ll proceed from there,” she turned to face her friends, who were both watching intently.

  “Sounds great, Vee, I’ll do that. Pleasure to meet you,” I said softly.

  I felt like running back to the booth and telling Dekk what had happened. I struggled to walk slowly and carefully, so I didn’t look like a damned fool. Something about this woman was exactly what I never looked for in a woman, but for some reason felt like I needed. As I slid into my seat, I couldn’t contain my smile.

  “Getting out the gold for this one, huh?” Dekk laughed as he took a drink of his water.

  “Huh?”

  “That big assed smile. Your gold tooth. It’s everywhere,” Dekk laughed as I settled into the seat.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t smile really big while I was talking to her. Didn’t know what she might think about Goldie. And, I was too busy being suave,” I chuckled.

  “And, just so you know. I was like Don fucking Juan over there. Hell, I didn’t even stumble or say anything stupid,” I bragged.

  “Well, that’s good. Give me my hoodie back,” he said as he gestured across the table.

  “Not just yet. I want to wait until they’re gone. They’re leaving now,” I said as I peered out of the booth toward the women.

  As the three women walked toward the exit, Vee turned and looked back into the bar. As her eyes met mine, she raised her hand, waved, and smiled. I formed a soft closed-mouth smile, and waved in return. As soon as they cleared the doorway, I pulled off the hoodie and dropped it in the center of the table.

  “So, you going to drunk Chuck fuck her?” Dekk laughed as I leaned back in to the seat.

  “Chuck Fuckin’ and Fuck Drunk. They’re two separate things, get it straight. One’s fuckin’ and one’s a state of mind. And I might. We’ll just have to see. Maybe you should step on Shorty’s head, dude. She might like it, rumor has it chic’s dig it,” I said as I took a drink of my beer.

  The temperature of the beer reminded me of how long I had gone without taking a drink from the bottle. The warm beer, once in my mouth, expanded to about five times its original size. As it swelled into a ball of liquid foam, I attempted unsuccessfully to swallow it. Nervously, I looked for a place to spit it out. As I considered running to the bathroom, Shane responded.

  “I already stepped on her head, and she loved it,” Dekk grinned.

  And after that remark, I no longer needed to look for a place to spit the beer. It shot out of my mouth and nose, and sprayed all over Dekk’s hoodie that sat on the center of the table.

  “Well fuck, Ripp. Seriously?” he said as he stared at the beer soaked hoodie.

  “Well, I didn’t expect you to say that,” I said as I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.

  “And I didn’t expect her to like it,” he laughed.

  I’ve fucked women six ways from Sunday. Over the course of my life, I’ve had a woman in about every conceivable position, location, and setting that can be imagined. Thinking about Shane stepping on Shorty’s head while he fucked her was beyond what I wanted to imagine. I guess predicting a woman’s sexual desires or wants, based on her personality or how she looks is impossible.

  “Dude, enough,” I complained as I held my index finger in the air.

  I glanced at my watch and realized how much time had passed. Almost five o’clock in the evening, and I needed to ride home, change clothes, and get my car. Liv and I were scheduled to meet for dinner at six.

  “C’mon, Dekk. I got to get out of here,” I said as I stood from the seat.

  “Hot date?” he asked as he picked up his hoodie and shook the beer from it.

  “Liv. Dinner. Six o’clock,” I responded as I slid out into the aisle.

  “Kace says she’s pretty conservative, sexually,” Dekk laughed.

  Not anymore, I thought as I walked toward the door.

  Not anymore.

  RIPP. Sitting at the Jackalope and drinking for three hours with Dekk didn’t make me feel any better about seeing the cripple at the other bar. Riding north on the highway ninety miles an hour coming home weaving through traffic didn’t help me either. Acceptance is supposed to be the answer to all things, but it is easier said than done. Sometimes masking or denying the issue is what I have found to be best. Over time I have learned to accept some things; and Liv eating the dirty chicken the day at my house was one of them.

  “Well, it ain’t any different than the other four times we been here, I fuckin’ like it,” I said as I pulled my shorts down to my thighs.

  “C’mon Mike, let’s just go to your house,” Liv said as she looked out the window nervously.

  “I don’t want to fuck at home. If I did, we’d be there. I’m in a shitty mood, and I want to fuck right here. I like fuckin’ here, it’s hot,�
�� I said as I started stroking my cock.

  “Hot to you, but it makes me nervous,” she said as she unzipped her shorts.

  “It makes you wet, admit it,” I laughed as I slumped down in the seat.

  “Fucking behind Yamasa Japanese Grille doesn’t make me wet, Mike. Fucking you behind Yamasa Japanese Grille does,” she said as she raised her leg over the center console and lowered herself onto my lap, facing me.

  We had never actually eaten at the restaurant. It was about four blocks from my house, maybe five minutes away at most, if traffic was terrible. One day, a few months ago, I dared Liv to fuck me behind the restaurant. I had stated if she didn’t do it, I would hold out on giving her any sex when we got home. We pulled into the parking lot that day - mid-day - and fucked in the front seat of the car. Since, we had repeated the process three or four times, each time becoming more and more intense.

  Liv was little bit different, sexually speaking. She had a few sexual hang ups. Nothing earth shattering, but different than most of the girls I had been with in the past. Exposing me to her desires caused me to realize she was a little bit wild. My longing to be naked in public brought us to Yamasa’s parking lot.

  Now, sitting in the front seat of my car, naked from the waist down, I was ready to begin our little game. Also naked from the waist down, Liv was wearing nothing but a sleeveless top and her bra. One of her feet on either side of my hips, and her knees bent, I lowered her onto my lap in front of my cock.

  “You dirty little slut,” I bellowed as I grabbed her neck in my hand.

  “Get on my big cock and ride it. Take it all you whore,” I said as I squeezed her neck in my right hand.

  She raised herself up and hovered over my cock. I pressed down on her shoulder with my left hand as I squeezed her neck. Her sopping wet pussy slid down my cock with no effort whatsoever. As her ass came in contact with my thighs, her eyes closed and she exhaled loudly.

  “You filthy little tramp. You already came all over me, didn’t you?” I asked.

  She opened her eyes and nodded her head sheepishly.

  “I’m sorry. I’m a dirty, filthy girl,” Liv responded.