and you bolt. You’ve always been like this – with work, with the band. With women. With everything. If it doesn’t go your way all the time, you just throw up your hands and quit. That’s why there’s a permanent carpet dent in the shape of your ass under your coffee table.”
Wow. It made sense that he knew the absolute truth about me. But hell if I was going to admit it. “You haven’t been living my life; you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you’re choosing to let this vampire thing define you; I know that’s really the last thing you want. And I know that you need help to fight it. You can’t do it all by yourself.”
Now I knew how patronized the homeless guy outside of Don’s place must have felt.
Fucking do-gooder.
“Yeah, well, I thought I had someone to help me. Turns out he wasn’t entirely trustworthy.”
I can be a real dick sometimes.
Hube didn’t let it faze him. “You’re right. I was wrong to tell Lazer, and I am sorry down to the bottom of my goddamned soul for it. Maybe you won’t believe this, but I bust my own ass over it every day, wishing I could take it all back. I’ve been trying to apologize, but you won’t let me. And I’m fucking right here, dude, right now. I’ll do anything it takes to help you get through this – anything. Somewhere under all the vampire shit, that Joe knows it’s true, even if This Joe doesn’t want to hear it.”
For a second I considered how not-that-bad what he’d done actually was: he told one person – one – and it was someone we both knew. Granted, Lazer was a total loser, and true, he may have blabbed about me to Iris, and maybe a few others who didn’t even know who I was, let alone care what I was. But it’s not like Hube had posted it on Craigslist. What I should have done at that point was let it drop, and spend the rest of the night reconnecting with the one true ally I had in the world.
What I did instead was fingerhooked all my bags and pushed my way past him without making eye contact.
“It’s all good, Hubert,” I told him, moving toward my van with my deli cuts in tow. “There’s really nothing for you to worry about. If you see Lazer, tell him I still say ‘fuck you’. And keep your mouth shut about the vampire shit, please. I don’t need any more crap to deal with.”
Hube raised his voice behind me. I think I had finally worn through his patience. “You got it, boss man. I won’t mention you ever again – to anyone.”
Whoa. That stung.
I know I deserved it. But even being able to read his mind, I didn’t expect it.
I shouldn’t have unloaded on him like that, no matter how bent out of shape I was. The guy made one lousy mistake, but somehow I just couldn’t find it within myself to forgive him and let it go. All he’d ever done was try to help me figure everything out, and he’d done the best job anyone could have hoped for under such bizarre circumstances. I thought it through on the ride home, between screaming about it into the steering wheel and trying to steady my shaking hands. If Hube and I were still as we had been, he’d be where I’d have gone to blow up about someone else. He would have known my yelling wasn’t about him; it was about Bastard X, and he wouldn’t have taken it personally. He would have known exactly where I was coming from, and he’d let me have my fit. He would’ve even joined in on the bashing until I had cooled off, and we’d have laughed about the whole thing afterward. And if the situation were reversed, I would have done the same for him. That’s just how we are.
How we were, I mean.
I don’t even know if we are anything at this point.
Reading it back now, the way I treated Hube might just be my low point with the vampire experience thus far. Maybe even worse than the shitting and the sucker fucker date thing. He was trying to help me, and I was trying to hurt him in return. I wouldn’t blame him if he never forgave me for it.
It would serve me right for being such a prick.
POST 31
Breaking Don
Lately, I’ve been forcing myself