Ryan Westhoff Dr.

Elizabeth Oness ENG 310 May 7th, 2013 Untitled Rewrite (Part of a Larger Piece) 1 I cant remember the last time it had been so cold in Manhattan. The air seemed to make the blood in my toes and fingers slowly stop flowing until they solidify. I tried to push my hat over my head even more to try and warm up my ears and my cheeks, but that proved to be ineffective. All this just to smoke some cigarettes? God dammit this is ridiculous. Seriously, I have never felt so cold in my life. I wouldnt have been surprised one bit if Hell had frozen over and we were all left here to die. However, I did have one thing to look forward to: The warm and satisfying smoke from my Marlboro cigarette. Thinking about the glowing orange tip and the warmth that my mouth would experience from it seemed unfathomable. Luckily there werent a lot of people out on the street tonight. There were only other people that had the same need to smoke, no matter what the weather was like. There was something comforting about this though since I understood them and I knew (well, hoped at least) that they understood me. Im well aware that I could just stay inside under the covers of my electric blanket and comforter in order to stay warm; but, when I gotta smoke I gotta smoke. Maybe someday the apartment landlords will just allow us to

smoke in our apartments, or resident directors for dormitories will allow people to smoke. I took out my box of cigarettes and with my frozen fingertips, tried to flick open the box and pull out a cigarette. The anticipation was driving me crazy. My mouth was tingling, getting ready for the smoke to satisfy its desire and for the warmth to overcome my mouth and hopefully my body. I was anxious to see the smoke floating around my head. Ive always been mesmerized by watching the smoke come from my mouth and twirl and float through the air, particularly if there is a streetlight to further illuminate the smoke. That, with the orange glow on the tip of the cigarette, is what really allows me to relax and let my stress go. I put the cigarette in my frozen lips and started fumbling for my lighter, digging in my coat pockets, and then my pants pockets, and then in my dress shirt pocket. I checked my jacket pockets again and it was in there. I can never seem to find anything the first time I look something. My lighter was a chrome Zippo lighter with the words, Amor Nunquam, engraved on it in an old English calligraphy style. I opened up the lighter and just hearing the click made my body seem to warm up instantly. The wick was mostly burnt up and I knew I would have to replace it soon. I flicked the wheel but then the cigarette fell out of my mouth. I reached down and picked it up from the snow with my bare fingers. I brushed it off and put it back in my mouth. I flicked the little wheel and the flame lit up but then was instantly blown out by the wind. Shiiitt. I flicked it again, trying to cover the flame with my hand, and it failed again. God dammit. The shitty smell of the lighter fluid was starting to come

from the lighter. Why that happens, I have no idea. It makes my face cringe. I tried to hide in an alleyway and then when I flicked the wheel it stayed lit long enough for me to be able to light the cigarette. As the orange tip glowed I was finally able to breath in the tobacco. The smoke filled my mouth and the anticipation was killed. Unfortunately, I didnt warm up at all and I didnt really feel like I had gotten my fix. I tried to blow out the smoke slowly, but it quickly dissipated into the air before I could admire the smoke and I was only left with the dull orange glow from the cigarette to admire. I left the alleyway and tucked my hands into my jacket as I continued down the street pass some clubs or venues. Ive never understood the appeal of these places. There seemed to be some strange satisfaction or social fix in gathering into a building to drink yourself away and grind up against strangers to shitty music. There was also a strip club on this block called the Frisky Feline. It seemed like every time I walked by the club I almost contracted an STD or I was about to become addicted to some form of a illegal drug. However, it was replaced by a new techno night club called Nocturnal Transmissions a week or two ago. I could hear psychedelic dissonant electronic keyboards and clapping, clinking, and clonking electronic drum sets while a falsetto voice was whining over it all in short nonsensical words. But the worst part of the music (I know, its hard to believe that it could get worse than that) is the single note booming bass that pounds over the speakers, nearly covering up every other noise for the entire fucking song. Then the same bass note and sound continues straight onto the next song. It never ends like the pounding of a migraine. Its awful. Simply, awful. And just to top it off, I still feel

like Im being threatened with STDs or a crack addiction when I walk by the damn building. Im so glad that Im beyond that crowd. I dont need to join those losers in pointless activities like clubbing or partying. All I need is my collection of Nietzsches essays and Marlboro cigarettes; a whole bunch of the latter, just to be safe. Im glad I have other friends to be with too besides the people who waste away at these clubs. I could go to Jamie and Mimi and hang out with them whenever I needed to be around other people. Jamie and Mimi were both performance majors and I was a scriptwriting major. Although I had never really enjoyed scriptwriting as much as I had enjoyed writing prose, my writing teacher at the academy had said that I was naturally talented and more gifted at writing scripts than prose. Then he hooked me up to nearly a full ride to this fancy ass school so I guess I can deal with coming to this school, even though its definitely not what I want to do. Jamie and Mimi said that they were busy and they couldnt hang out tonight. They said they were busy working on a play for their performance finals. I understand that theyre busy with school and stuff, but theyve been busy working on school stuff together and they have never really showed much dedication on a performance or schoolwork by themselves before. Normally they would always want me to come and help them with their homework for those other classes or assignments. I remember one time when we had to do an essay for theater history and I gave them both a copy of my essay so that they could see how I wrote the

essay out and what information I thought was important. Surprisingly, we all got As on the paper, despite them not being very prepared for it. I had seen Jamie perform a few times. He is definitely a talented actor and I dont have any doubts that he would be successful. However, I havent seen Mimi perform at all and she was the person that I really wanted to see act. Her golden blonde hair glowing underneath the stage lights and green eyes always excited me. Mimi was created to shine under the spotlights of a stage and I knew that any performance by her must be powerful. I sat down on the curb and lit another cigarette with no problem at all. I thought of an old poem I read once along time ago: Keep walking through the long desert/ Bury the ash of painful memories/ Despite that they were once a bright fire. As I said before, I have always enjoyed writing prose, but poetry is something that I have never really touched or read at all. However, this one section of this one poem has always stuck in my head for some reason. I dont even think its a necessarily a good poem or a well-written section. But they have still stuck with me. Maybe thats what will make something good writing or not, whether they have an impact on someone or not. Hey bud, you feelin down? a womans voice said. I could smell the cheap perfume coming from her body and in her voice I heard a proposition that was weak in lust. Her voice sounded disguised like she was trying to hide her real identity or her true intentions. I turned around. She had messy black hair with thick black eyeliner on. Her pale skin was covered and it looked like it was poorly pasted together with cheap make up. Even though she

appeared this way, there was something about the way that she looked that was still beautiful. She touched my back gently and started to lightly rub below my neck. Uh . . . No thank you. Huh? Oh cmon, sir. Put down your cigarette and come with me. I got something really nice that I want to show you. Her words were phony. She looked about my age, most likely a little older if anything. If she was in school, she was probably a sophomore. 20 years old? I couldnt help but feel bad for this woman. What if she was just hoping to get her tuition paid off? What if she needed this job in order to feed herself? Her family? Children? I normally dont try to justify someones actions like this, but there was just something about this woman that made me want to help her. I told her, Look, Ill take you out for a late dinner. Hey, my time is money, she said. Fine, I said, Dinner and a fee for your time. I held out a twenty dollar bill for her, but she shook her head no. Sorry, bud. It will be more than that. Half an hour costs 125 dollars. What? Its that much money? Yep. Sex is expensive. This isnt sex though. You cant cut down at all for a small dinner? Fine. One hundred. I didnt want to give her any more money than what I already had given her. I felt like I couldnt back out now. I looked in my wallet and I had 47 more dollars. Here, this is all I got. I can give you more after dinner, okay?

She looked at me with a frustrated stare. She didnt seem very interested but she still took my money. Where at, sir? An accent was starting to come out from her fake voice, not enough for me to be able to pin what kind of accent though. Theres a small burger joint down the street. I want some fries. Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Ill meet your there in ten. Hey, what do you want? Ill order for you. I asked her. She looked at me and grinned a bit. Ill just have some water. Ill steal a few of your fries. She walked off and up into an apartment complex just down the street. I lit another cigarette and made my way to the burger joint, Rickys. Rickys was a popular burger joint that was by my campus. It looked like it came straight from the fifties with a jukebox and girls who roller-skated around the white tiles of the restaurant. There was a bar where you drank milkshakes and many cherry apple red leather booths. Ive always noticed something about the bar stools though, they all had the old fashioned Pepsi inscription on it. It was funny to me since they only serve Coke from a bottle here for soda. There was something that revolted me about the restaurant though. I could always smell the grease coming form the back. It was a thick beef aura that was slowly flooding the diner. The fifties charm of the restaurant distracted most consumers from the disgusting nature of the food they were eating. I made sure that the fries werent cooked in the same grease that the burgers were cooked in and they werent. Thank goodness. I havent had meat in five years and I feel like my body wouldnt be able to handle that much meat grease at once.

I went inside and a waitress told me I could sit anywhere. There was only one other person in the diner. He was reading a book but I couldnt tell which one it was. I took a seat far away from him and ordered two milkshakes and a basket of fries. I could smell the grease coming form the back. The thick beef aura that slowly flooded the diner seemed at least ten times stronger than other times. The fifties charm of the restaurant seemed to distracted most consumers from the disgusting nature of the food they were eating, though. I made sure that the fries werent cooked in the same grease that the burgers were cooked in and they werent. Thank goodness. I havent had meat in five years and I feel like my body wouldnt be able to handle that much meat grease at once. I twiddled my thumbs waiting for the woman to come in or our food to get here. I remembered the last time I was here. I was here with Jamie and Mimi. Mimi was wearing a short black dress and had her hair in a ponytail. She didnt eat any food and she talked with Jamie a lot about some douchebag in their class. I sat there and listened to them and laughed along with their comments. I just got done helping them with a take home test and I was glad that they were able to hang out with me afterwards. Mimi started to talk about how Jamie looked really attractive when he smoked cigarettes. I remember he was blushing and he told her that she would look sexy smoking too. Its a shame that she started to actually smoke because I feel like it didnt make her anymore attractive at all. My food came and I started to munch on the fries and drink my milkshake a little bit. I didnt want to do too much though since I wanted to wait for the woman to come. I looked at my watch and it had been about twenty minutes since Ive

gotten here. Well, maybe shes just running late. It could take awhile to take off that make up or something. I turned on the jukebox to play Peggy Sue by Buddy Holly. Than I played I Want to Hold Your Hand by the Beatles, one of the few songs on the jukebox not actually from the fifties. I ate about half the fries and I finished my milkshake but she still hadnt come at this point. I played one more song, Johnny Be Good by Chuck Berry but by the end of the song she still hadnt came. It took longer than it should have to realize that she wasnt coming and I had been robbed. I got up to pay for my food and then I left the diner out into the frozen wasteland. The streets of Manhattan seemed more bare than they were before and I lit another cigarette, but even that didnt help the walk back to my dorm go any faster or any better.

As I was walking back, my phone had one new text message from Jamie: hey bro i think i saw that u left ur keys in the roomi have to run out for a bit but ill b back in 20can you hang in the lobby or something till then I replied: Sure thing. Text me when you get back. After a minute he replied: k.cool

I have never seen such atrocious texting from anyone until I became roommates with Jamie. Every message was filled with many pointless ellipsis, ridiculous abbreviations, and terrible grammar. Despite his texting ability though, he is a pretty good roommate. He never makes a big mess and he keeps to himself. It probably also helps that he is my friend. At my school, the dormitories were very strange because they were also hotels. The students of the school got the first floor of the hotel and then the many guests, usually special guests involved in the arts stayed at the rest of the hotel. Its been rumored that my school is working on purchasing the whole hotel, but this is the first year that they have tried this system of housing and I think that theyre just waiting to see how it works. Needless to say, the hotel is a pretty nice hotel and I have become good friends with the many people who work at the desk and the doorman, Myles. Myles works all day and through the night until about eleven. Sometimes he is gone at night, presumably just to have a break. The girl at the desk tonight was Lacey. She is usually here from 8 at night to 2 in the morning. I dont know her very well, but her black hair was always beautiful, slick, and straight. Hey, Myles, I said. Ey! My man Rudi! How are you doing today? Ive been doing alright, Myles. How are you, Lacey? Oh Im just dandy, thank you. I forgot mention her perfect southern accent. Rudi, you gotta quit smokin so much. You wreak of cigarettes all the time lately!

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Im sorry, Ive been smoking a lot more lately. Oh cmon, Myles. Hes young, he can smoke as much as he wants, said Lacey. What? How does dat make any sense? Im okay with him smoking occasionally but lately he has been smoking like a chimney. Okay, Myles. I promise I will try and smoke less. After this pack I will try wont buy a pack for a few days. Deal? Whatever you say man, haha! Anyway, Lacey was tellin me bout how she used to sing in a little country band down south. Oh no. Not country. Oh really? I had no idea. I told her that shes too pretty to be singing such shitty music, Myles laughed to himself and she looked embarrassed. I havent been really sure to think of that as a compliment or not. Lacey seemed slightly embarrassed. Im sorry, hon. I didnt mean it like that. I dont even like country very much. I can sing it well is all. Do you like jazz at all, Ms. Lacey? I havent really listened to very much of it. Ohhh, you gotta check me out when I play at the Mellow Melon. Its such a racist name but its named after a weird drink thats served there that doesnt taste like watermelon at all but it definitely makes you mellow. Anyway, this club has some of the best jazz in New York if I do say so myself. Ive been playing my sax over there for years.

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Years? I said, You dont look that old, Myles. He laughed to himself, Ill hold ya to that! Oh shit, I mean crap. Sorry, I think I see someone pulling up in the front. I love this job and everything, but its cold as can be out there! I dont want to go outside in that Ice Age. Why do you think Ive been smoking so much? Oh, so thats your excuse now? Seriously though, Ive been living all over New York City my whole life and it has always been horribly cold to me. Some people say Im just a pansy, and I probably am, but I dont care. Its super cold out there. Anyway, be right back! He ran off towards the door and cheerfully welcomed the guest. Do you think he really loves his job? I asked Lacey. He must. He says he has been here a long time and he never seems very sad. I just cant believe that he doesnt want to do more than just being a doorman. Well, he likes meeting people and talking to people. He gets to do a lot of that opening doors for people and helping them with luggage. He seems to get pretty good tips too. Be honest, did you want to be a big country star? I wouldnt have minded it, she laughed, looking to the side to see if anyone was coming to the front, I dont really mind this job, but I miss playing music regularly. I took double bass lessons since I was young. Thats all the music experience I have.

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You play what!? Myles came up from behind me. Double bass, I said. Like the upright bass? Are ya good? Ive been playing for years. I like to think that Im pretty good at it. Rudi, my man, have you ever played jazz music before? We could really use you for our combo at da Melon. Well pay you. Ive played a little jazz before. Im not sure if Im up to par with you guys though. Actually, Ive played a lot of jazz music. However, good enough to play at a New York jazz club? Probably not. Man, as long as you can thump a line and have fun, youre good enough. Weve been having lots of problems with having a regular player and we could really use you if you dont mind. Im sorry man. I shouldnt be pressuring ya or anything. But I promise Ill stop giving you shicrap about smoking if you play for us. Hell, you can smoke at the club if you join in. No, dont worry about it, Myles. That sounds like it could be fun and I probably should cut back on cigarettes. I just need to let you know though, I was trained with classical music and Ive only dabbled in jazz though. Thats cool man. Im looking forward to it man! Ill talk to you soon about when we will be practicing next. Do you have a bass here? No. Unfortunately. Thats cool, man, thats cool. We can get you hooked up. Me and my buddy John, he plays trumpet, have been blowing at the joint every weekend but we

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havent had a bass player who has been able to play enough with us to really get into it. Having you there regularly could really help the music come to life. Okay. Just let me know when you practice. We should invite Lacey to sing with us. Myles looked dumbfounded at first, Hold on now, man, haha. Dont get ahead of yourself. Sorry honey, Im sure Ms. Lacey is a great singer but lets just wait and see what happens, aright? Alright. I looked at Lacey and smiled and then I looked at my phone and saw that Jamie sent me a message saying that it was okay for me to come back to the room. Anyway, Im going to head out now. I have classes and stuff tomorrow. Ill talk to you Lacey. See you soon, Myles. Bye, they both said simultaneously. I walked down into the hallway to my room, 109. I went to grab my wallet for the card key and my wallet wasnt in my back pocket. What the fuck . . . I dug around in all my pockets and even double-checked all my pockets and it wasnt in there. I knocked on my door and told Jamie to open up. Mimi opened the door. Hey Rudi! she said. Oh! Hi, Mimi. I said. Yo, Rude! Jamie said. I heard the South Park theme song come from the TV. Mimi, sat down on Jamies bed and grabbed a handful from a bag of potato chips. How are you doing, bud? Jamie said. He was sprawled out on his bed, remote sitting on his gut.

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Ive doing well. I took off my jacket and set my cigarettes on my desk. What episode are you watching? This is on Netflix, right? Of course its on Netflix. This is the one where they rerun the first episode and then discover that Earth is a reality TV show. Oh, thats the season premiere of season seven. Man, how do you know so much about this stupid show? You just dont seem like the type that would know much about it. I dont know, I just like it. Ive been secretly watching the show ever since I was a young kid. Now I let people know that I watch it, but for the longest time it was a guilty pleasure of mine. Hey, Rudi. I know you just got back here. But if I give you ten dollars, can you run to the convenience store and get Mimi and I some sodas. Were all out here. Its cold as hell outside, Jamie! Twenty? he waved it towards me. Ugh. Fine. I took the twenty and put my jacket back on. Be right back. I walked back into the lobby. Myles must have left and Lacey was distracted by a computer game. I rushed outside and the cold air immediately attacked me. I quickly tried to grab my cigarettes but they werent in my pocket. Fuck, they must be in my room. I rushed as quickly as I could to the convenience store down the street. As soon as I got into the gas station I realized he never told me what drinks he wanted. I started to dial his number but then I say the prostitute who took my money walking through one of the aisles.

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I wanted to call her out on her theft, but then I remembered the whole reason why I paid her in the first place. I decided that she needed the money more than I did. Would I really be doing her any good by getting her in trouble now? I walked over to the bathroom and waited in there for a few minutes hoping that she would leave soon. I texted Jamie for what he wanted and then I left the bathroom. I didnt see her anywhere in the store.

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