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Getting Through : Creative Writing

Candle burning at both ends

from dan - Saturday, July 10, 2004
accessed 1425 times

There is a story to tell, but who can you tell? Not anyone I work with or may work with later. While the story is, of course, fictional and without any basis in real life, still some people might draw conclusions. So I give it to you, the most cynical crew I know. Enjoy, hate or be disgusted. It is the life I live. The dream is where I find myself at this point in the trip.

I had the craziest dream last night. It was about
this friend in another country - nothing like this
one. I'm thinking of making a fictional story based
on the circumstances of this dream. The story won't
even be close to the dream, merely inspired by it.
Are there any lawyers in the house?

In the dream, I was taking a nap. A surprising
amount of my dreams start this way, this is because I
am so tired that even in my sleep I appreciate the
finer things in life, i.e. a good sofa. So, there I
was, napping away and I dreamt that I got a call to go
on a run. This is of course impossible as I am in
double dream mode.

I was ok with the idea of a move. It was going to
be drive to a location, spend the night and then
return in the morning. In truth it was a run to take
a girl to a party. You see, in this alternate world I
was dreaming in, there is a party at a complex across
town and she wanted to go. As she can't go anywhere
without us she needs an official reason, therefore she
needed to go have a meeting. Right…

Now, I'm cool with it but my partner is not. You
see, he has been here for too long. More than is good
for the mind. In fact all he can think of after far
too long is, as he so adequately refers to it, vagina.

"Hi what's your name? Suzy? That’s a nice name.
This may seem forward, but can I eat your vagina?"

So you can see, as I do that it is due time for the
man to get a large piece of ass. Now this young,
virile, horny as all get up young man is not all that
happy about the idea of risking his life to take some
bitch (cock tease, according to him. Never had a
problem with those myself - much better than a mean
person) to a party. So the bitching commences.

We get there and decide to run off to a Chinese
restaurant. Not exactly fine cuisine but variety is
the spice of life. I had the chance to flirt with the
waitress who happened to be Chinese and the meal was
ok. We had a bottle of wine with dinner and this is
where it got interesting. Right after a bit of chow
he gets a phone call that says "Hey we had to extend
you for a month, you don't mind do you?" and just like
that he is here for longer. If you are a nice guy,
fuckers will fuck you. It becomes apparent that if I
am going to live through the next month, my partner
needs to have his head in the game. My goal for the
night was now to get this man laid. Sure, it’s a
party with ten girls and a hundred guys, but damn the
odds, this needs to be done.

We head back to the bar/compound and he wants to go
running off to smoke a hukkah. I'm just relaxing and
don't feel the urge at all. So he takes off on his
own. After a few minutes, he gives me a call and some
where under the drivel is the fact that he says there
are some chicks at this place and they want to take
him home. This has been all of ten minutes so I'm
like "fine bro, I'll be right there." Then I go to
the bar and forget about it - this is called buddy
fucking and is an art.

In the end I felt guilty knowing that my partner is
out in the open in an armored car, drunk and with the
grenades and rifles etc. so I call him to come pick me
up. He is easy to recognize. We all drive fast for a
living so just think how we drive drunk, angry and
extended. I get in and we race out the 300 meter
drive and spin the car around. He’s lit. A small man
that doesn't drink a lot of wine is being affected in
ways other than expected.

When you go out with the goal to get fucked up, it
usually happens. We show up and the wine is at the
table. He invites some beggar kid to the table and we
feed the little urchin. Urchin that he is, he is a
street kid and they know everything. So he hits the
kid up with the “where are all the bitches at??”
Another strange phenomenon is that all fucking dirty
pickpocketing street urchins, from Bombay to Rio speak

The scallywag wanders off and my buddy steals my
government phone to call home to some slut his friends
have put him in contact with. They all know the man
needs to get laid too, so word has gone out and they
have found a big tittied girl to do the honors when he
gets back. Now he has the distinct pleasure of
telling her they are not going to get to play Abu
Gharib Prison as soon as they had hoped.

After thinking about this, I'm not sure dream is the
right term. Nightmare is more like it. Is a
nightmare inside of a dream only half a nightmare
because you know you’re dreaming? Something to think

So there I was deep in a dream, my buddy talking dirty
on the phone long distance and a beggar kid ordering
enough for three and not eating anything (it all goes
in the back pack, standard procedure) and in walks a

The beggar kid (5 or 8 years old) gets up and talks
to her. She walks up, says "So, we go now?" and that
was all the incentive my partner needed. Up like a
shit and out the door. Your place, my place the car,
who cares just get it going. I'm left at the table by
me onesies.

A bit of back track. As I walked through the door
the first time, I did the old look and see who is here
bit. There were some Arab guys with guns and good
shoes, some brits drinking beer, and a group of about
4 guys and a girl smoking and drinking crown. These
are the principal characters. Then there were two
Americans wearing shorts and Hawaiian shirts, drinking
sodas. What does that say? Cops. So I am on my
guard from the start, trying to see what the stakeout

There are too many funny people around. Outside you
have Arabs sitting in a car observing and in general
the place is crawling with the fuzz, American and
local. As my pal gets up and moves out, I watch and
see what happens. He is in the car and out of there
before the pimp even knows what hit him.

As soon as he breaks the plane of the door the
American cops stand up and almost run for their car.
They wait till he makes the first right about 500
meters down. I've already called him and told him
it’s a setup and to start counter surveillance
techniques, so he is clued in.

Once I see what they are driving I call again to say
they are in pursuit. The trick here is that we are on
a base of sorts, so we don't have too many places to
go. After the cops leave, their back up gets there
and it’s in a big fucking humvee with machineguns etc.

These guys are the Barney fucking fife of stake
outs. The whole place explodes with energy and yet
they never look at me with the phone. So he loses
them no problem. They're not that good. Do a U-turn
and drive at them, they turn their lights off and do a
u turn behind him. Like he's not going to fucking see

After an hour, I call and he is still alive and
good. I'm more worried about seeing his head on CNN
and having to explain why my partner's head doesn't
have mine with it. He is doing fine though and tells
me he may be a while yet.

Twenty minutes later this big Lebanese guy comes up
and asks where my friend is. I'm "what friend?"

“The one that is fucking the chick.”

“Fucking?? There's chicks here? Look, my friend
may have given a girl a ride home but I'm not my
brother's keeper, man, and he doesn't need to tell me
where he is all the time.”

"Look he's been fucking like a robot for over and
hour and I haven't been laid in three months".

I tell the guy I have no idea what he’s talking
about. He tells me he has already paid and she said
she was going to take care of one other customer and
get right to him. "Dude, I'm so sorry if things aren't
working out for you but I'll call him"

“Dude, you got to get back, man, the locals need a
piece too.”

“Dude, the cops are chasing me as we speak and the
package is very nervous!”

He goes on to tell me that he can't drop her off as
he is in hot pursuit and to stop at the coffee shop
and drop the alleged hooker off won't look to good in
front of the military tribunal. I tell him to drop
her and get back to me, his alibi.

So in he walks. The arab guy is “Where is the
girl?” and we're both “What girl? There was a girl?
Did you see a girl?” He is all sweaty and there are
humvees driving past in an urgent manner. So I tell
the guy that the cops are looking for the girl and she
is off out of the secured area going to haji-ville to
lay low till the heat is off. He just keeps saying
"But where's the girl?” Poor guy really needed to get

I then get the whole scoop and am in no way
surprised as it was the only way this could have gone.
As soon as he left the cops were on him and he hade
to lose them. After doing that he goes to a local
neighborhood and parks, whereupon they commence to the
love making.

At this I am horrified at the objectification of
this woman! I had no idea! I was under the
impression he was going to drive her to her house, but
after realizing how much he was helping make the world
a better place by giving this girl money and
supporting her family and her pimp’s family and the
people that sell them food, I came to the
understanding that the humanitarian in him had no
choice. And as sex was her profession it would be
insulting to just give her money. She is a
craftswoman and needs to have her work appreciated.

After having my misconceptions set straight, he
continued with his story, in the dream. He has been
getting down for about thirty minutes and all of a
sudden there’s a big light in his face. He looks up
and there are the cops - more than four, and trying to
block him in. One is standing in front of the car and
they are shining a spotlight in.

The girl freaks. In this part of the world you can
guarantee a gang rape and robbing before the jail that
you never get out of. My partner (buck ass naked and
sporting wood with condom) jumps into the front seat,
revs the engine and burns rubber out of there. The
cops are diving out of the way and he is tearing ass
through the left right left rights that are required
lose the cops.

He gets to a compound we know and bribe, and shows
his id. The guard, seeing a naked white man with id
waves him through. A twenty dollar bribe and he is
given a spot to park and recommences to have his
whoopee for another 45 minutes or so. God dammit, a
few police troubles should not keep a man from getting
six months worth of ass in the back seat of a car.

After all that, he comes back out into the world
only to be chased again as now the MP's locals and
original cops are looking for him. He loses them
again and is sitting by me telling me the tale when I
suggest getting the fuck out of here.

I get the keys and am sitting in the car waiting for
him to pay the bill when the humvees screech up. Out
jumps a sergeant in vest ammo and uniform big gun and
all, and starts asking my partner if this is the place
that has the "you know, massage parlor? No man, I
heard you can get you know, extra stuff here?"

My buddy tells him that he has no idea what he is
talking about but you had better not let the locals
hear you, as they are Muslim and will cut your balls
off if they think you are doing a local chick. They
never got a look at him and there are way too many
cars like ours, no license plates to have a positive
idea. So, he gets in the car and before these guys
know what’s up, it’s my turn to drive like a bat out
of hell. Down shifting to second around turns to
break the rear out and not show brake lights.
After a clean break we go into our high security
compound and go to sleep.

We drove home the next morning as if nothing had
ever happened. Nuttiest thing I've heard yet, my
buddy naked speeding around in an armored limo with
guns and shit, some screaming Arab girl in the back
and then resuming business like nothing had happened.
I pray to God I get out of here before I get crazy
enough to do something like that.

Got to lay low for a bit as the luck was all too
used up on that one, but these guys were such a joke.
Interrogating in a uniform and actually trying to out
drive us? Brother, please. This is what we do -
professionally drive and not be followed, then not
talk about what we did. It was perfect. I think they
were hoping for him to confess or something. They
spent all night on this sting and we knew it was an op
and walked in and out under their noses.

When they showed up he was there with him all night,
and before they could finish questioning us, we were

So he got laid and now I can not worry about him
introducing himself as vagina licker. He was so
happy, not only did he get laid but she turned out to
be this sex goddess with a killer body who made him
weak in the knees. I need to send her flowers for
fixing my team mate, Mister Tense has become Mister
Mellow and today I was the one shouting at idiots for
it was nice trip into the world of fancy thought.

Truth is stranger than fiction...

Still, in the interest of decorum I think it best if
this was kept a story not oft repeated as in "don't
tell a fooking soul". Dreams are private and you are
under patient doctor privilege.


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from Nina
Tuesday, November 16, 2004 - 22:39

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