BLOG » periods and murderers:

This Wednesday, after my podcast, i did a reading of a short story i wrote- at an even called ‘Literary Death Match’ hosted by Todd Zuniga, who’s a TOTAL babe btw! he looks like the dude from ‘harold and maude’/my long lost brother… that i want to have sex with, kind of, maybe!

after we read our stories to the super packed crowd/uuber supportive audience; the three other performers and i were critiqued by the judges: mary lynn rajskub (24, mr show), scott shriner (weezer bassist), and james morrison (private practice, 24).

did i win? no. did i have a blast? YES!

here is the story that i read:

‘THOSE WERE THE DAYS’

Once upon a time, a much younger version of me went to New York to see a boy.

i barely had any money, but an ex fling of mine told me about a cheap hotel, exclusively advertised in the back pages of the village voice. $200 dollars a week DID sound too good to be true. especially in new York’s fashionable meat packing district! but i was a hopeful dreamer!

when i got there, the hotel was a shit hole filled with the borderline homeless and trannys. a place where hookers took their john. god, I was an idiot. Or was i just super young? maybe a bit of both.

I rode up in the hotels jalopy of an elevator, while a big black hulking brute of a man stood behind me, his warm breath on my neck as he bore a hole in the back of my head with his relentless stare. I think he was drooling too- not that i think I’m hot shit or anything, I’m sure he would have drooled over any girl he was planning on killing with his bare hands. but that day, it was me! me!

We arrived at my floor. I ran to my room, and he quickly followed behind me. as i ran, i hoped he didn’t think i was racist, cuz I’m not- but the blood on his face and his lazy eye made me nervous, not to mention the fact that he was following me after having pressed the button for another floor.

i got to my room, and the peephole was filled with toilet paper. Someone had removed the glass and filled it with toilet paper. The room was as small as an American apparel dressing room. But not nearly as modern and bright.

I could hear a mans heavy breathing and laughter outside. so I pushed my bag AND a chair against the door.

suddenly there was a knock, Which progressed into a threatening banging! “Let me in miss. You better let me in!” It was the guy from the elevator!

The banging continued. I was too scared to cry. This wasn’t a time to cry. I had to be calm. I crawled under the bed, yelling “get away from here! I’m calling the police!” This would have been difficult, considering there was no phone in the room AND I didn’t have a cell.

I was going to get raped to death.

I grabbed my bag, pried open the window and climbed 8 flights down the fire escape like a bullet,letting the front desk keep my $200. (TO BE CONTINUED)

By: boycrazy on April 16, 2010
Tags: thoughts and stories