Chapter 17: Two Weeks Later, Smoking In God's Bathroom
Theater practice was at the chapel again. I had just smoked in God's bathroom. I stared in the mirror, both hands clutching the counter. The door was locked. My glass pipe was hot in my pocket. My phone vibrated. I checked who it was but apparently didn't receive a text or call… I had planned to not smoke today, but without the dope in my body I couldn't stop crying. I became angry and suicidal. It was impossible to resist. I figured maybe I could wean myself off slowly… That'll have to wait for another day.
8:36am
4 minutes left. I washed my sweaty face in the sink. I looked into the mirror and saw movement in the stall behind me. I turned around and the stall was shut. Wasn't it just open? I crouched to check for shoes and saw nothing.
I cleared my throat. "Anyone in here?"
No response. Fuck it, I thought. I forcibly shrugged my shoulders and popped my traps, then my neck, then my jaw, then my fingers, then my back, then my ankles…
8:58
I went back to the practice area just in time. The rest of the theater dorks were shunning me for missing so many practice sessions. I didn't give a shit. They can think of me however they like; I'm the best actor in this production! Stormy was maintaining her distance, as usual. Bitch. No, don't think that way about her…
We were to perform the most challenging scene. I had done my best to study the notes and had memorized my lines weeks ago. I had the energy and determination, but lacked coordination. I started to second-guess myself as spare words began to mix with the script. It was a jumbled mess.
Every time I messed up I apologized profusely. The director had this judgemental look on his face… It made me so angry, but also self-conscious. I began to judge the way I stood, the way I moved my arm, the viewers in the audience that weren't a part of the scene, my own thoughts, the awareness of these thoughts, the awareness of the awareness…
The director actually laughed in disbelief. I almost jumped off stage and punched him in the face.
After the practice ended I stood by, knowing the director wanted to talk to me. It was written on his face. I came up with a list of excuses in my head. Trouble at work. Sleep deprivation. Relationship issues with Jocelyn. Not really, but a little lie never hurt anybody. Just give me a chance…
"Katz. It pains me to say this—"
"Please sir," I begged pathetically, "please give me another chance! I've been practicing, I was just off today!"
"You've been off all week, and the last. I can't have you interfering with my production. I'm giving the role to Wiley. I'm sorry. You can audition for the next production."
The director walked away, leaving me alone in the chapel. Shit happens, yet I get no reprieve? I blamed God for my problems and cursed the establishment I stood in. The fact I didn't burst into flames at that moment gave me more reason to hate the very idea of a God. No such thing, I thought. My anger turned into fuel for revenge. Just you wait. I'll write my own production, critically acclaimed, directed by none other than me, myself and I… I don't need you… I never did…
I walked to the bus stop, lost in my thoughts as I cursed underneath my breath.
"Hey bro," some white guy in dirty clothes said at the bus stop.
"What's up man?"
"You smoke?" The guy made the symbol of smoking a dope pipe: rubbing the forefinger and thumb together while the other hand sparked an invisible lighter. I discovered that jib smokers could easily recognize each other in the streets, no matter how well they tried to conceal it to the uninitiated. Something about the eyes… Perhaps we could just feel the demonic aura radiating about us.
I looked at our surroundings, just in case of any lurkers. I nodded my head at him.
"I got a 20 bag. You want it?"
I reached into my pocket but the guy stopped me. "Not here, maaan." He pointed with his thumb to a fast-food place. "Let's go in there. I'll go in first. Meet me in the bathroom a minute later."
I did as he said. The guy was washing his hands in the sink next to another guy. I pretended to use the urinal until the stranger left. Once we were alone, we conducted the transaction. Now I had two baggies of dope on me and a pipe with residue inside it. Jocelyn was going to be happy. But first I needed to test it…
Kiera had taught me how to make a scoop from a straw. I took a sniff of the shards and it was even better than the stuff I had got from Gordo! I felt lasers projecting from my eyes. Tremors traversed through my body. I nearly kicked open the bathroom stall as I left. I missed the bus. I smoked cigarettes to pass the time, waiting for the next one.