The Spark

“Woman problems.”

Fred held his glass toward me to clink. “Fucking women. Gotta watch out for them. They’re dangerous. You know any other animal that can get juice from a nut without cracking it?”

I laughed so hard, I fell off my seat. Fred offered a hand to help me up from the floor. His grip was pretty strong for a guy who had to be pushing eighty.

Once I was standing, I put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks a lot, buddy. This was just what I needed.”

“To fall on the damn floor?”

“Nah. To not be able to stand.”

I said I was going to head out, but Fred convinced me to have one more. That last drink totally did me in. I went from happy drunk to feeling pretty miserable about Autumn again. There was no way I was driving home in my condition, so I started toward the train, figuring I’d get my car tomorrow. But at some point, I veered and walked back to Autumn’s place.

I had no idea what time it was, but it had to be after midnight when I buzzed.

“Autumn…it’s me.” I looked up at the camera and pointed to my face. “Please let me in.”

When a few minutes went by, and she didn’t answer, I went from feeling down to feeling angry. What I should’ve done was go the hell home. But instead, I buzzed again.

“Autumn, are you going to talk to me?”

No response.

I was hurt and sad and so damn frustrated. So I buzzed again and looked up at the camera. “You know what your problem is? You got a damn trophy. No one has to work hard when you get a damn trophy just for showing up. But life is hard, Autumn.” I leaned my head against the door and mumbled. “Life is fucking hard.” I shut my eyes, and I think I might’ve started to fall asleep standing there. After a minute, I forced my eyes open and pushed off the door. I was drunk and emotionally drained and filled with so much pent-up anger that beating that douchebag didn’t even begin to take the edge off. My anger was not directed at Autumn, though in my drunken haze, I lashed out at anyone. I held up my middle finger to the camera. “Fuck everything!”