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Gauges

How much can one take until its just become to much and that little gauge in their head blows

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By James Gersbeck

 

“TAKE ME TO GET IT NOW!” she shrieked. If I had half the intelligence I claimed to have had, I would’ve done the right thing by calmly pulling over and kicking her ass out of the car.

“No God dammit, I told you already that I fucking refuse Jess!”

“Fine, take me home I’ll just get it myself, without your help.” Her voice calmed, but I could still hear the agitation in it. “You’re a fucking asshole you know that?” My hands began to choke the steering wheel.

“You know damn well that your parents will not let you step foot on their property anymore, and I’m not fucking helping you with this, get that through your fucking skull Jess.” She knew how I felt about this, she knew that it made my steam gauges hit max capacity, and she didn’t care if she had made them burst.

“First off, fuck you. Second off, I don’t care just take me home, I will get it if you like it or not.” My grip grew tighter with the raised tone in her voice.

“So you know how I feel about this and you still want it regardless?”

“Alan, I could really give a shit less about how it makes you feel I want it and I want it now.” I could feel the coolness of the words as they echoed through my head and froze over my heart.

“So you can honestly say that this…SHIT…means more to you then I do?” The ice started to melt as the steam gauges started to fill again. “Even after two years of being together, I don’t mean shit to you?”

“Yup, you got that right honey.” Heat began to radiate from my already scarlet forehead. My grip on the steering wheel only got tighter with every second I was forced to be in the car with her. I told her not to, begged her not to, but she’s stubborn. No not stubborn, just thick headed. It was always her way or, well, her way. It was about a month ago when she first got shot up with it. Her friend, promising her the time of her life, pure euphoria even, when her friend took her by the wrist, tied up her arm, and shot away.

“That’s right asshole, say nothing because you know I’m right, now just fucking take me to get a bag shit head.” She had lit a cigarette and continued, “That’s what I should call you from now on, Alan the Asshole, it suits you.” I felt the first gauge blow in my brain.

“I swear Jess I’m trying to be calm and not over react to your problem, I thought you said you were done with that shit.” She took a drag of her cigarette, looked at me and blew the smoke in my face; the second gauge was starting to crack.

“I can do whatever I please, and what the hell are you going to do about it, huh pussy?” I had to give it to the bitch, she knew just what to say to twist and contort my testicles into a knot. I sat quiet, trying to be calm and talk her down out of her new found addiction. She was always a bitch, but she was tolerable up until this shit started coursing through her veins.

“Jess, cut the shi…” she wouldn’t let me speak.

“No shut the fuck up take me right now to get a bag, its just one bag, the last one I promise.” The lying made my second gauge burst.

“Yeah, that’s fucking bullshit Jess. That’s what you said the last three times”

“I know what I said, but things are hard for me right now, and I need this last bag.”

“No you don’t dammit, you got kicked out of your house because of this shit.” She hated when I brought up her being removed from her house, I guess it was the constant reminder of how badly she had fucked up her own life, and that she didn’t like resurfacing.

“That’s bullshit Alan, my mom’s just being a bitch for no reason and you know that. I’m done taking shit from them, and I’m not gonna sit in this car and take shit from a little bitch like yourself. Got that Asshole Alan?” At that moment, I felt the third gauge burst, but this one didn’t slowly leak like the others.

“That’s it bitch, I’m fucking done with this.” I pulled into a seven eleven that was coming up on the right hand side of the road. I could feel all the weight of the Jeep shift left with the hard right into the lot.

“What the fuck are you doing, you’re not going to kick me out of this car, you’re too much of a bitch to just leave me here.” I pulled into a parking spot, and parked right on top of a crudely white painted line taking up two spots.

“Get the fuck out…” Nothing was said for a moment, she knew I was serious. I made sure my face was impassive, just so she knew.

“No its okay we don’t have to get any I’m sorry.”

I hate that I have to be such a helper sometimes, always trying to be the good guy and do the right thing. She had a problem, and I wanted to help her fix it and make her better. I pulled out of the seven eleven parking lot, window rolled down, a freshly lit cigarette and a little bit of classic rock. I adjusted my rear view mirror only to see her standing in the parking lot waiting for me to turn around. And as I got further and further away it became clear to her that I wasn’t going to be turning around.

 

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