BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 263 Go ahead, ladies. Check with the guy closest to you. Ask him if his mother, daughter, or sister has sex, and he‟ll swear they don‟t. As to a blowjob, not one of those women would even consider something so disgusting. While I‟m sure every man here loves a good blowjob, we all know damned good and well which women would never do anything like that for any guy. Well, my illusions were shattered. Mom was having a tube steak dinner, by golly, and I flat outright wanted to puke! That shit ain‟t supposed to happen! Not in what we call a civilized society! Damn it, anyone else, but not my Mom! Jesus, the whole thing about made me sick! Thankfully, I had a solution. Deciding I was, by no means, even close to drunk enough, I went out and finished the job. I got so shitfaced I could barely remember my name was John Lee Carver. Wait a minute. That was the name on the draft card I had when I was fifteen. My name is shit, don‟t say anything. It‟ll come to me. Yeah, I was that bad. I think it was around eleven when I stopped at the house and witnessed the heinous debauchery I encountered. When I came back around three, I was as plowed as any farmer‟s field can ever get. Stinko. I damned near fell on my face when I opened the front door, then stood there swaying a minute until the room got off those ball bearings and stopped spinning. I figured it was a new alarm system to confuse burglars, making the room tilt and swirl in circles like a merry-go-round. To no one‟s surprise, my old man was in the kitchen, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes, waiting for me. I can‟t honestly tell you what he said, or what I might‟ve said, because I was that shitfaced. However, I was mad at him. Damned mad, and I‟d‟ve had Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 264 trouble containing that degree of anger if I was sober. In my condition, there wasn‟t a prayer. Whatever he said, I know all my responses were very loud. Slurred goes without saying, and I doubt I‟ll see a show of hands among you wondering if I was at all vulgar. At that moment, I hated that son-of-a-bitch so bad, it made whatever I felt for that David thing seem like doting affection. I suspect, but can‟t confirm, I was standing there hoping he‟d say something that would give me what I‟d dare construe as a good reason to hit him. You must‟ve gathered by now, I had a helluva punch. Whenever I threw it, there was almost always a casualty. The strongest likelihood is I wanted him to be the next casualty I caused. Mom came out, and I‟m positive she was embarrassed down to her toes. I‟m also positive she knew me well enough by then that, if she didn‟t get me downstairs to my bed so I could sleep it off, something bad would probably happen. Mom was trying to push me gently toward the kitchen, where I‟d cross it and head down the basement stairs. My old man then came back out of the bedroom for some reason, so I put my hand against his chest and shoved. He flew back all the way into the bedroom and collided with a dresser. Fucking fine, I thought. Wanna try that one again, you motherfucker? Or, maybe I should call you mother sucked by, you asshole! I‟m sure those were my thoughts but, again, all that alcohol. Sheesh! More than likely he said something. Much more than likely, I replied to him with a very violent threat. Next thing you know, there‟s “Fast Fred” standing in the bedroom doorway with a .38 in his hand. I honestly believe he was scared enough to kill me at Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
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BILL CADY Post Office Box 567 San L
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BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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