The Recluse Shines

Every day is exactly the same.
I wake up around 6:30 a.m.
get in the tub
read the latest horrific news
about the pandemic
and how it's still continuing
to rapidly spread across the world
while we all sit in isolation, under quarantine.
My home country of The United States
became number one in infections
as of yesterday.
USA NUMBER ONE!
I read about all that and get out of the steaming hot bath.
I smoke a bowl of weed and rub one out real quick.
Then I make my bed and watch something on T.V.
from one of my handful of streaming subscriptions.
Around noon
I get anxious and start wanting a drink.
Around four or five in the afternoon
I'll finally walk up to the corner store
and get whatever booze I want for the night.
Either Miller High Life or White Claws.
I come home
walking past my Mother with my black plastic bag
of whatever cans I got.
Ever since this virus shit started
she's stopped complaining about my drinking so much.
I go to my room.
Drink.
Smoke.
Play video games.
Completely try to escape my own mind.
It's all I can do to not completely go crazy.
Once I'm cross-faded enough
and I got a good buzz going strong
then I'll do one of three things:
1. Take a book outside, smoke cigarettes, and read.
2. Sit outside, smoke cigarettes, and play either Jeopardy or 8-Ball Billiards on my phone.
3. Take the typewriter outside, smoke cigarettes, and write something like this.
Tonight, I was lucky.
Tonight I got number 3.
Tomorrow, it starts all over again.
A daily game show
where no one ever really wins
but at it's best
I get door number 3
and am rewarded with a few good lines.
Honestly, I can't complain.
Because 

under this world-wide quarantine
the recluse shines

brightly.

Paid Leave

Ever since the Coronavirus hit

and became a major threat to public health

I've been calling out sick from work.

It's a pretty cushy job with

The U.S. Census Bureau

in a giant call center in Tempe.

But somehow, the very idea

of sitting in giant room

with 200 plus 

people seated in cubicals 

all packed together

breathing the same recycled air

for eight hours a day

seemed like a quick way to get infected.

And as of recently,

I've been staying with my Mother

who has a compromised immune system

and would most likely die, if she caught it.

So for the past five days

I've called in sick to work.

Well, today was payday

my first check and I desperately needed it.

Penny in HR told me, that checks would be distributed outside the building.

I got there 

in blue latex gloves and medical face mask

and there was no one outside, no checks being passed out.

Reluctantly, I went inside and whattya know

they're passing out checks in the 

motherfuckin' break room.

A long line of people

snaking all around the room and down the hall.

Nearly 200 people, standing shoulder to shoulder

all waiting to sign for their paycheck.

I stood in line

for maybe 8 minutes or so

getting stares from people

that weren't wearing gloves or a face mask.

A young black kid with dreads, said,

"Shit ain't that bad man. It's just the media."

I laughed under my blue mask

"Oh yeah? Hey, tell that to Italy and they're 4,000 dead. They don't even got room for all the dead bodies over there!"

I remembered, Penny from HR and said, fuck it.

I walked down the hall and into HR.

"Will you please get my check?"

Penny jumped up from her desk.

"Oh! Of course, I'm so sorry! Give me just a minute..."

Penny said, taking my driver's license from my already outstretched hand.

"You can wait in my office, if you like." She said, warmly.

"Thank you, but I think, it'll be best if I just don't touch anything." 

"Good point!"

And we both laughed nervously.

Two minutes later and she was back with my check.

"There you go and again, I am so sorry about that, Mr. Valdez."

"Thank you. I thought checks were going to be given outside?"

"Well, that's what I wanted to do, but...I was vetoed."

Penny said, with a defeated tone. I felt bad for her.

She seemed like a genuine and good person.

I walked out of there

knowing damn well

that I'd never set foot in that building ever again.

One week later

and they shut down the call center.

'Closed for disinfecting, until further notice'

There's a lot of rumors out there

that President Trump 

will declare martial law

and a complete lock down

before the end of the week.

Or maybe he won't.

Who fucking knows?

Each morning

I awaken to the horrors of

this ever changing world

with this ever worsening virus

all this bad news

brought to me

by the innocent blue glow

of my goddamn cellphone.

What a world.

A Night At The Starlight Motel, A Fling Before Quarantine

The virus pandemic was getting out of control

states were starting to go on lock down

complete quarantine.

An ex-girlfriend of mine from a few years back

we had been going back and forth, 

in the past few weeks

saying we should get a drink and catch up, 

but we still hadn't.

So I texted her,

'Hey we should really get that drink before we're all quarantined.'

'Yes, we definitely should. Have you ever stayed at the Starlite Motel?'

She was talking about the seedy little motel

off Main Street

the one with the flashing neon diving lady sign.

The unofficial icon & symbol

of our little city, Mesa.

'No, I never have. Always wanted to though.'

'Well, we should just do that then. Get some beers, get a room, hangout. Sounds better than just going to some bar.'

'Fuck yeah, let's do it. I'm down.'

We agreed to meet at 7 o'clock.

I drove down the street, one block over from the motel,

and even from there, one street over and behind

I could see the diving lady sign

the neon woman diving

in three flashes

down into the blue neon water splash

at the bottom.

I pulled up in my little red truck

just as Ashton was putting the key card into the door.

The sun was quickly setting in the West.

the diving lady glowing brightly

against the pink-blue smeared sky.

"Hey there." She said, standing in the open doorway

smiling up at me from her pale face

her pitch black hair resting on her black leather jacket

black shirt, skirt, fishnets, boots.

She was the dark queen.

Gothic Drew Barrymore is a really good way

to describe Ashton.

"Hey." I said, giving her a tight hug.

I set my backpack down.

"I brought a jukebox. It's basically just a giant bluetooth speaker, it's like four feet tall."

"Oh, cool!"

I lugged the big jukebox speaker in and plugged it into the wall.

It connected to my phone

flashing blue, green, red, and yellow lights

now pulsated from the jukebox.

She had a 12 pack of Truly hard seltzer and a 12 pack of Miller High Life

I had a weed vape pen and a pack of Pall Mall reds.

We sat in the two chairs at the medium-sized circular wood table

starting slamming back our drinks

and got to catching up on things.

Mostly, her filling me in as to why

her and her long-term boyfriend were currently

on a break and most likely, not getting back together.

She told me tales of him destroying hotel rooms

in small European towns

and how shocked she was, that the cops just let him go.

"American cops would've just fucking shot him! But they wouldn't even arrest him!"

She told me about how he had tried to control her

didn't want her going out

didn't want her hanging out with friends

didn't want her drinking.

I just sat there shaking my head

smiling and laughing.

Unbelievable.

In all the time that I had dated Ashton

I had NEVER even thought about trying to

tame her.

A woman like that

you can't.

You'd just be shoveling water against the tide.

She's one of those wild and tough broads

that you can't try to cage up

I mean some guys like him would try

but me?

Shit, I don't believe in birds living in cages either.

'She's beautiful.' I thought, staring at her, as I changed the subject

to our most favorite subject to discuss;

music.

Ashton knew her shit.

This gal knew just as much about Blues music as I did

and THEN some.

She had been responsible for introducing me to some of the underground greats.

So we got into it.

Females Blues Singers.

Bukka White.

Blind Willie McTell.

It was great. Just like old times, the good ones.

I smoked more cigarettes and we kept on drinking.

The conversation flowed

just like the drinks down our throats.

I had forgotten just how much

I truly LOVED this woman's company

and conversation.

We finished all the hard seltzers and then started

in on those Miler High Life's.

I switched the music to 1940's slow jams

'Moonlight Serenade' by Glenn Miller.

We stood up and slowly danced together

swaying back and forth

the warmth of her body heat

so close I could feel it.

I put my hand under her chin and brought her lips to mine.

Like two pads of hot butter

we just melted onto the bed, wrapped up in each other's arms.

We kissed long and hard

breathing heavily through our noses

she started making those little whimpering noises that she made.

"No, no, we can't...I can't fuck you tonight...I can't..."

She moaned again, whispering my name,

and another little whimper escaped her lips.

I gripped a good handful of her thick, black hair

pulled it into a tight fist

and pressed my mouth to her neck

lightly biting and then kissing all the way up

her neck.

I whispered into her ear, trying not to laugh at what I was about to say,

"You're not fucking me tonight, I'm fucking you."

I lifted up her top and her big, pale, pink tits bounced out.

I slipped it in

and both of us gasped, kissing hard.

Remembering just how good it felt

when we got together like this

every few years or so.

We gasped

and we smiled

we laughed

and we kissed again.

Both of us just going at it

while the world around us

was getting

cancelled

postponed

closed

quarantined

and all the while

that neon lady sign

continued diving

down, down, down,

splash.