Hit Me

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
fictional musings from a drunk

Submitted: October 22, 2014

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Submitted: October 22, 2014

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Tonight was a good night. There was this guy in the bar - the second one I went to - who was no nonsense and had a killer right hook. He put me out for at least 2 hours.

After you've fought insomnia for several years, fighting an NFL linebacker is easy. 

The doctors all tell me the same stuff: get more exercise, drink some herbal teas, develop a more structured regimen of living. Doctors. What do they know?

Ambien, trazadone, muscle relaxers, xanax... all the chic pills to take just don't help. I can get relaxed; but that just adds to the agitation. The frustration mounts and all I can think of is hitting something.

One night I couldn't stand it, so I hit myself. Repeatedly. All that did was make my face hurt. I stumbled into the world where everyone else was asleep and found a couple places where some just didn't want to sleep. At least, not then.

There was this one guy - really small. Maybe 5-feet tall at the most. Couldn't have weighed more than 135 lbs. soaking wet. He tried to make polite conversation with me and I insulted him. Goaded him into hitting me. He had an uppercut like Mike Tyson. I finally got some sleep that night.

I tried walking into traffic; but all that does is break your legs. Dislocate your knee-caps. Mess your back up. Then, it's just pain medication that leaves you feeling so drugged you never really know whether or not you're actually asleep. No. A good shot on the chin is the best medicine for me.

You would be shocked at how many people just refuse to fight. You can back them into any corner - call them every name in the book and threaten to rape their mothers - and they still won't fight you. You can even tell them: "I just want you to tag me right on the chin and nothing more. Just knock me out." And these guys, they'll just stare at you with your chin jutted out, inviting their strongest haymaker; and they'll walk away.

So I'm a freak. But, I can't sleep. That seems even less normal to me than wanting someone to punch me on the chin. I'm just looking for my medicine. What I wouldn't give to be in bed at a decent hour, reading a couple chapters in a book or an article or two in Time, turning out the lights and dozing until morning. But, that just won't happen. It can't.

So this guy at the first bar I went to tonight - he was eyeballing me from the minute I hit the door. He and his buddies watched my closely. They actually listened to what I had to say. I insulted their political choices as well as their favorite baseball team. They got angry; but just kept looking at me. It wasn't until I called the bartender a smelly skank that three of them decided I had to leave. I threw up my hands and said "let's go." No one tried anything. One of the guys had fliers for his buddy who is running for a commissioner seat somewhere in the county in the back of his truck. I started wiping my ass with them in front of the window. I heard his buddies say I wasn't worth it.

The guy at the second bar, though. He was all business. He was pleasant to everyone. But he watched everything very closely. So, I started talking shit about the bartender. I told the guy next to me that there was going to be a fight. This guy walks up to me in his polo shirt and broad shoulders. He looks at me with his square jawline and tells me I need to leave. He says I'm bad for business. 

I ask him if he wants to fight and he says no. He tells me to just leave or he'll call the cops.

I know from experience that cops won't put you to sleep. They shock the piss out of you and jam a knee or elbow into your back or throat. That just doesn't work.

So I tell the guy I'll leave; and as I get up I start like I'm going to throw a punch. All of a sudden that guy nails me with a mean right hook. A brief flash of white races across my eyes and I am out. I mean, everything goes black. It was sweet, beautiful, relaxing, peaceful pain.

I woke up in a jail cell. After what had been the most restful sleep in nights and the cops tell me I can't go back to that bar or it's trespassing.

Every time I find the right medicine someone has to take it away from me. Fate conspires to keep me ill and make me wish I were dead.

So, now I am banned from almost every bar in town. I can't sleep; and all I want is rest. I don't want to die; but all life seems to offer me is pain; and the sweetest pain is the one that puts me out for a while. Lets me exit stage right until my next scene, where I wake up andit's all too soon because I'm still tired.

So, I guess I'll put an ad in the paper. See if anyone wants to jack me for free. Maybe a booth at the carnival. Some people will throw hands if they know there won't be any consequence. They get to hit me without feeling guilty or worrying about lawsuits. I get to sleep. Everyone wins.

Either way, It's late and I just need someone to hit me.


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