Haley Hannah Harrison

Couch 5: Haley Hannah Harrison

Rating: 8/10

Pros: Haley Hannah Harrison, plush couch for sleeping, fake tree, coffee, longevity

Cons: drafty

couch

I had to move to a new couch this weekend because Friday got weird. Everything was fine until I ran into Frank and Frank ran into Mr. Hyde.

It’s Monday now, and I’m in a rare mood. I’ve been in a rare mood all weekend.

I’m staying with my friend Haley Hannah Harrison at her place in Bucktown. She’s a great girl and her couch is pretty decent, one of the best so far, I’d say. The place is a little drafty, maybe, but the good news is she says I can stay here as long as I need. I don’t want to take advantage, though, so I probably won’t stick around too long. I hate overstaying my welcome, and no matter how long I stay at a place, I always feel like I have. It’s sort of inevitable, I guess.

So I woke up in kind of a daze today, like I’m hungover or something, but without having been drunk. It makes no sense. So I thought I’d go for a ride, maybe stop somewhere and see if it helps any, and now I’m at this place called the Wormhole having some caffeine hoping it will snap me out of this and bring me back to center.

I fell off my bike again this morning. Like I was stopped and I just tipped over, and it was like my body couldn’t do anything about it, so I hit the ground pretty hard and just lay there for a moment feeling very embarrassed and trying to figure how I could have totally lost control for that moment. A guy in a truck drove by and said out his window, Watch out. Don’t kill yourself.

I just said, Yeah.

Usually I’m pretty okay on a bike, so this was weird. I saw it happening and couldn’t stop it. And what’s weird is this wasn’t the first time I lost control this weekend. Something is happening that I can’t make sense of. I really flipped out Friday night. I don’t know what came over me, but I really just lost it.

I was good at first. I was in a good mood and it was Friday and I was going to have some fun with some friends. My spirits were high for once when I met up with Morris and Mandy and some other cool cats at this dive bar we sometimes go to. I had a beer. We had some laughs and talked about nothing in particular. Like an hour later I had another beer and got sort of quiet. After a while I started feeling worse, really depressed and detached, so I rested my head on my arm and stared at the table for I don’t know how long. Nobody really said anything, but my friends all kept trying to give me shots and I didn’t take them. I felt sick. I felt like dreaming. I felt like I wasn’t there. If I was, I wasn’t me. Once they were all sauced, we left. I’d still only had those two beers — actually I didn’t even finish the second — but I don’t remember hardly anything after leaving the bar. How do you black out if you’re not the least bit drunk? I don’t know, but I just went blank.

Anyway, here’s what I do remember and some other details Mandy filled me in on.

After we left, I got my energy back. We wandered through the neighborhood and made a bunch of noise and caused some trouble, and I remember it took all of us to topple this huge stack of crates stacked up behind the supermarket by the loading docks where all the big trucks bring in the food and shit. It was like we were sixteen again, reckless adolescents, destructive youth, a gang of scum-bags fueled by a load of alcohol. But what was my excuse? Maybe I’m just a scum-bag in general. I don’t even need alcohol to push me over the edge anymore.

We needed someplace to go because the night wasn’t over, so I invited everyone over to Frank’s, since that’s where I was still crashing at the time. I told them all he wouldn’t care. I thought Frank was cool. Frank and I were cool, I thought, so that’s where we went, and when we arrived Frank was standing outside with a cigarette and some girl. He saw how we all looked like a bunch of drunk fucks, and most of us were, and he had this smug fucking look on his face. He asked if I was feeling alright with this look of superiority, but like I said, I had two beers. Maybe three. I wasn’t drunk. But I wasn’t totally me, either. Then he made some snide comment to the girl he was with, who was also looking smug as fuck, about how we were all just dumb and drunk and not to pay any attention to us. Totally dismissive, like we were nothing but dumb scum. That’s when I lost it.

My brain just unhinged for a moment and I remember getting up in Frank’s face and probably pushing him around a bit saying,

“You know what I hate? Smugness. It’s one of my least favorite qualities. I hate smugness. It’s my least favorite thing about you, is your fucking smugness, you smug fuck.”

And he was sort of dumbfounded.

“I know you think I’m a moron. I can see it. I see it in your eyes every time you look at me, and I know you’re thinking I’m just the dumbest person, and maybe it’s because I’m young, maybe it’s just because I’m young and like to have fun and get fucked up sometimes that you think I’m fucking stupid, I don’t know, but swear to God I’m not an idiot,” and I pointed to my head and said,

“I’m onto you, you smug bastard. I know things. I don’t know a lot of things, but I do know some things, and I know you probably think I’m fucked up right now, don’t you? But you know what? I’ve never been more clear.”

Then for whatever reason, I sort of walked around him in this silly circle laughing in this desperate crazed way just mocking the hell out of him and said,

“I swear I’m not drunk, but I’m out of my fucking mind.”

It wasn’t me. I saw it happening and couldn’t stop it. I caught Frank and everyone off guard, and I scared myself a little.

Then he told me to get the fuck out of his apartment. I don’t remember where I slept that night.

Anyway, I’m still trying to process all this. The coffee I think helped. At least I got out and did something today. If you’ve never been to the Wormhole, it’s like stepping into the ‘80s, but with modern hipsters. The decor is all 80s pop culture. Shit like Star Wars and Super Nintendo. There’s a Delorean inside. And the coffee’s pretty decent. I’m here with my coffee and one of the girls working behind the counter looked at me for a second, then made kind of a funny face and looked away.

This is a jumbled story. I don’t know what any of this means.

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