Destroy Read Online Free PDF Page B

and I should never receive the runaround from anyone.
    Especially some chick.
    Real rad.
    If my present for Nina wasn’t so absolutely brilliant, I wouldn’t even think twice about rolling to the Hemlock instead or dropping down to Zeitgeist or splitting for the Homestead to hang out with people I can actually stand.
    But the fact remains that my gift for her is much too amazing to waste, so I roll back down to the bar and wave Carla down and tell her that I’m out.
    â€œWait!” she yells back. “Come here!”
    I elbow my way back against the bar, and she walks over to me and goes, “I have something for you.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThis.” She hands me a matchbook with her phone number written on it. “Call me,” she says. “Let’s hang out sometime.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œI’d love to. But just one thing.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    Carla leans over the bar and puts one arm around my shoulder, her lips against my ear, and she says, “Don’t play this rock star bullshit with me.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” I ask, trying to pull away.
    Her grip tightens, and she says, “Me and Steven are finished. And now you have a great fucking chance with me, so don’t blow it by pulling this ‘I’m a fucking rock star’ shit with me and acting like a dick to everyone. It’s stupid. It’s a complete turnoff. And to be totally honest, you don’t always pull it off the best.” She lets go of me and drops from the bar, smiling. “So call me whenever you want to,” she says, before getting to work on a drink order.
    And just like that, I’ve got one of the hottest babes in SF. Easily. I’ve got her right in the palm of my hands.
    Fucking destroy.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    Dudes in tight black jeans. Dudes wearing tiny ironic sweaters and SF hats turned sideways. Dudes with really bad facial hair, sipping on forties, are standing in front of the place where the party is happening, talking about their fixed-gear bikes, when I arrive. A couple of kids are even throwing up tags on this window with their Sharpies.
    It’s almost like Delirium déjà vu.
    Like Delirium squared.
    On my way over, I had the taxi driver stop at a liquor store so I could pick up a pint of Beam and a tall can of Tecate, and then I blew three huge hits of coke through my straw in the backseat, which got me pumped up for the party until I saw the actual scene in front of the place and almost told the driver to turn his car around.
    But I couldn’t.
    I just have to give Nina her gift, because it is that good. So like everything else tonight, I deal with it.
    Destroy.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    I enter the apartment and walk up these wooden stairs, kids crammed along both walls, while some song by some shitty Irish punk band, Flagging Doggy or something like that, is blasting, which is even worse than listening to some of those trust fund kids outside dressed like homeless dudes and heroin addicts talking about their fixed-gear bikes.
    I try to ignore it all as best I can and slip into the first room I see.
    A huge mistake.
    Not only are there way too many people crammed in here, but there are two white dudes wearing backpacks fucking battle rapping each other in the center of the room while, like, three joints get passed around.
    Totally not my scene at all.
    I light a cigarette and take out my Beam and slam a huge pull and then notice this pig standing next to me in red running shorts and red tights and a black hoodie. She’s staring at me and smiling, and her lips are even smeared red and she asks me if she can have some of my Beam and I tell her, “Um, no,” before pounding another drink and slipping out of the room.
    I trickle down the hallway at the pace of an underage fat kid with a smoker’s lung fleeing the scene of a backyard kegger.
    Fairly consistent.
    Yet completely not