I would like to do two more installments to this if there is any interest... one about Danny... one more about Uncle Saul's business... all comments are welcome and will not be deleted...
When I was a young kid, both of my parents were tragically killed overseas. They were on vacation in Israel and were collateral casualties in a café bombing. They were never the target of the suicide bomber, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was just a child, and after they were gone, I found myself alone. Now that I'm older, I have learned, that at the time, no other family members seemed to want me. I eventually went to live with my uncle, my father's brother. I didn't want to go with him, cause he kind of creeped me out back then, but as I grew older, I understood, it was either him or I was going to be a ward of the state.
My impressions of Uncle Saul were always somewhat jaded as a child. He was kind of a social outcast in our family and was tolerated because, like him or not, he was still family. He seemed to always be around our house when I was a kid, mostly mooching a free meal or sucking up dad's alcohol. I think he was really a decent guy, and tried to be nice, but he just didn't know how.
He was loud, crude, obnoxious, annoying, over bearing and crass, especially to the women. He was prone to over drinking and that's when his off color, nasty jokes and lewd behavior, which embarrassed everyone, began. Always before the party ended, his sexual propositions and loose hands on the female house guests would commence.
I remember many a night after a house party, overhearing my mother complaining to my father, that Uncle Saul grabbed her ass, or Uncle Saul propositioned one of her married friends or Uncle Saul told the nastiest joke. My father would just shrug it off, saying "He's my brother, what do you want me to do? He doesn't mean anything by it." but it was just his way of being loyal and avoiding a confrontation with her. Still, every time he visited, he ended up drunk, copping feels off all the female guests and trying unsuccessfully to lure one of them to his bed.
He wasn't a "butt ugly man", he was just mostly unkempt. His shirt always seemed wrinkled and stained, his suits never fit him quite right, he wore these loud colorful ties and was pretty much physically out of shape. A good tailor, a laundry service and a few days at the gym every week would have improved his looks 100%.
My father was a doctor, a very successful doctor and he always made a distinguished looking figure. He was smart, he played the stock market heavily and was apparently very good at it. Maybe not the young model face you would see on the cover of GQ, but handsome and always well dressed. He was about 5' 9"s tall, maybe 165 pounds and always seemed dignified in his appearance and manner. I was very proud of him, he was my hero. He made an effort concerning his presence, unlike Uncle Saul.
Uncle Saul was about the same height as my dad, but well over 200 pounds. When he wore a jacket, it was always tight, I don't think he could have even buttoned it if he had to. The sleeves were always too short, the top button of his shirt was never buttoned around his chubby neck, even at their funeral, so his tie knot never looked quite right.
Maybe he couldn't afford anything better. He reminded of one of those sleazy car salesmen at those used car lots. I know he had a string of unsuccessful business ventures and that my father had loaned him money several times for his latest start up hair brained venture. They always went belly up for one reason or another in a few months, with a ton of excuses from him, that it was never his fault.
Still, and maybe because of my father helping him so many times, when my parents were killed, he agreed to adopt and raise me. So, for that, I was glad.
I was a loner at school, not many male friends, no best friend to speak of and definitely no girlfriends. For some reason, girls didn't interest me too much and I was just trying to find my way, feeling alone in the world.
I was 5' 8"s tall, about 140 pounds, not effeminate, but not masculine at all either. I was just a skinny kid that even as a teenager, had not started shaving my face yet because no hair grew there. I think I was a good kid, I did well in school, I minded my own business and I kept to myself. I was what you called a loner, a social misfit.
Growing up at his house wasn't really that bad either. He provided adequate room and board. There was always food in the icebox. He bought my clothes and essentials and gave me pocket money occasionally. He was almost never there though. Nothing was ever expected or demanded from me except a few chores. He never bothered me and the only time I really ever saw him was when he came home at night. It's not like he treated me bad or with disdain, it's just that he offered little in the way of guidance or friendship.
He had begun a new business adventure just recently, something nefarious and illegal I'm sure. I think he was actually making some pretty decent money for a change, as his wardrobe and house furnishing improved dramatically. From what I gathered from his muffled phone conversations, I think he was some kind of a pimp. I'm not lying, and I had no concrete proof, but I would often hear him on the phone speaking in a muffled tone with phrases like "She will be there at 10PM and the rate is $500, her tip is optional." or "What kind of guy are you looking for, be specific, I can accommodate all fetishes?"
I just distanced myself from it all and turned a deaf ear. Uncle Saul was always up to something that spelled trouble.
I moved out exactly two weeks after the day I turned 18. The day the court decreed I was an adult, and the day my inheritance, my father's trust fund and my parent's life insurance policies finally kicked in. I had been looking at places to move into for months and had found one that I liked. I had planned on going to college, but the trust fund's monthly pay out was staggering to me.
Apparently my parents were very well off, worth millions, and it appeared I would be getting in excess of $15,000.00 per month pretty much for life, so I decided to postpone college for a bit.
All the sudden, I was rich. I had never had any real money in my life and the first pay out was staggering to me. I had lived a meager existence with Uncle Saul for 7 years and now could afford just about anything I wanted.
I rented a studio apartment a few days later and busied myself with buying furniture for it. Uncle Saul started being extra friendly to me then, which I'm sure was the result of my new found inheritance. After my departure from his house, he would often drop by my new place unannounced to visit. When he would visit, he would always give me a big hug like we were best buddies and tried to make small talk, which just made me uncomfortable until he finally left. One day, he suggested I should give him a spare key to my place, just in case I needed it, or if an emergency arose. Without thinking it through, and quickly regretting it once I did, I gave him one.
I got into a routine the next few months. I wasn't a good cook, so I ate at restaurants mostly, which were close to my apartment pretty regularly. I kept some groceries in my ice box, mostly fruit, juices, frozen pizzas and junk food, but took almost all my meals at my favorite restaurant, which was a few blocks from my apartment.
My life spiraled with all the money that kept getting deposited into my account monthly. I literally couldn't spend it fast enough. Within four or five months, my account had become substantial. With the first day of every month, it just got bigger and bigger, the deposits just kept coming. I had a new wardrobe, a furnished apartment, got a driver's license and bought a new, but small car. I even bought a computer, a PlayStation and an X Box. I bought just about anything else I ever wanted. Life was good, but I was basically alone, something was missing.
I still had nobody in my life, and was often lonely at night. Sitting at my house, over and over every night playing video games, got old some times. I met a girl at the restaurant and as we became friends, we began dating. Just going out to eat, or going to the movies, she filled a void in my life. She was very sweet and pretty, but she didn't really excite me physically. She introduced me to recreational drugs. At first, just some pot, but later other things.
After a few weeks of dating, we slept together for the first time. At the moment of truth, I couldn't perform adequately. I got an erection at first, a really nice one, but it didn't last. It was a full 5 inch rock hard erection, but when I tried to penetrate her, it just wilted. I was embarrassed of course, but she was understanding and we tried again the next night. This time I didn't even get an erection, nothing happened. We tried a few more times, but it just didn't work for me and we both lost interest in each other shortly after.
After that, I became really depressed. I didn't feel good about myself, and I started going out regularly to bars instead of sitting at home alone. I found it awkward in the bars around so many people, like I didn't fit in, but sometimes it was better than sitting home alone watching tv or playing videos. I didn't know what I was looking for, I just wanted someone that excited me, someone that I could have fun with. Like a dummy, I got into the drugs more heavily, not a drug addict really, but especially liking Ecstasy and cocaine as they made me feel more social and outgoing when I went out. I found myself doing more and more while it helped me sustain a modicum of a comfort level in the night clubs.
One night, just wanting to get out of my apartment, I ended up in a new bar. I had taken a tab of Ecstasy earlier and was feeling really mellow and warm. It was mostly guys in the club, but a few girls too. As usual I just sat alone at the bar and minded my own business, too intimidated to engage in conversation with anyone. I was sitting there nursing my drink, trying to blend in, when a guy came up and almost screamed at me over the blaring music, "Hey, I know you, you eat at the restaurant I work at almost every day."
When I looked at him closely, I recognized him immediately. He had served me dozens of times in the past and while we had never talked socially, he seemed like a nice guy. I had always figured him for gay as he had that "swishy walk" and acted overtly girlish.
I'm positive that anyone that ever met him, if asked whether he was straight or gay, would have said he was gay. Anyway, I suspected he was gay, as he didn't try to hide it in his acutely feminine mannerisms. His clothes were always too snug for a guy, especially his shirts, and I think some of them were actually women's blouses. He was never without his 3 or 4 cheap beaded bracelets on his always limp wrist and another 3 or 4 more around his neck. They actually looked like a child made them. You could hear his high, loud, squealing voice all over the restaurant. I'm sure he often wore eye make up, which he had really overdone tonight, I'm guessing as he could really be himself away from work.
"I'm Danny, you know me don't you?" he almost squealed over the thump of the music.
"Hi Danny, I'm Benjamin." was all I could sputter out.
"This is my favorite night club. I love to dance here. The DJ plays the hottest beats. Do you come here often? I come here all the time. I love this place." he prattled on excitedly.
"Not really, in fact this is my first time here." I nervously replied.
"Buy me a drink. I'm tapped out, the customers tip lousy where I work." he laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.
