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Benny Vendetti · (03-06-2018)

Crafting windows to shed some light. Hanging curtains to block the sight.

Rearranging how we sit like the monotony in our every day lives,

pounding our heads together and making love in more ways than one.

Stabbing wayward, crissing crosses, blaming all fragments but ignoring the whole.

It was Tuesday.

The third day that DJ and I have spent as roomies in this roach hotel filled with small condos. Two-hundred windows. And thirty-thousand pillows.

DJ sat with his legs and eyes crossed, watching as I separated our laundry across the room. He was switching between smoking from a large hooka that sat center stage in our living area and watching Ellen on television. He was so lifted that everything that came out of Ellen's mouth was comedy gold that couldn't be passed without snorting and spewing some YooHoo! out of his nose. It was kinda cute, but at the same time kinda sick. I'd tell him to wipe his nose each time.

"You sure you don't want to try any of this, Benny? It's the shit noodle."

DJ said while pointing the end of the piece towards me. I was folding a pair of his boxers up as I shook my head.

"No, brosef. You know I can't. I have that new job interview tonight at the Consulting Clinic."

"Why don't you just mix up another Safe Smoothie? You'll be fine!"

"I don't like taking risks like you do, DJ. C'mon, cut me some slack."

He's zoned back into the television now, why do I bother? I carry the basket full of laundry into the bedroom and shut the door. I place the basket on the floor and in the same instance, throw myself face down on the bed. I feel a couple involuntary tears flow from my eyes and I barely put up a fight to scare them away. Even the strongest can only bed so far.

After a few minutes, I hear a short, quiet knock at the door. I left it cracked for a reason, I peer just the tiniest bit up from the pillow.

"Benny V?"

I sniffle as quietly as I can. Damn him for sneaking up on me.

"Dude-O Bro?"

I pick my head up, I just see his short silhouette in the doorway. I can't help but crack a smile.

"Hey."

"Hey. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing."

"Something HAS to be up. You've been quiet for like a week. All you've done is run around this place like a maniac. Why don't you just relax the rest of the day?"

DJ approaches the bed, I'm sitting up now, but avoiding eye contact. He pats me with the back of his hand all chummy on my shoulder.

"C'mon."

"You know this is a big chance for me."

"I know."

"And you know that I've had stuff like this blow up in my face before."

"I know."

"And... Do you feel that this all just kind of happened? Do you think we're ready for something like this?"

"Dude. I trust you. I trust you SO much. That there, is enough for me to follow you to the end of the universe if you're following your dream."

I feel another escapee run down the side of my cheek.

"Thanks bro."

"You're welcome, bro."

--------------------

It's time to embrace, people.

Time to embrace what I've been saying all along here.

The commitment. The dedication. The fire.

Where is it? It's right here. It's right here in Benny Vendetti's eyes. Even after being throw to the wolves, so to speak, by THE Shane

, himself, instead of turtling up I've chosen to lead by example.

Chris Valley has no idea what he is up against and no idea that in no way Shane

was doing him a favor by adding him to this event.

I'll run circles around the best like tracing my hand in November. Crashing paper airplanes into newspaper ships and burn down glass houses to make sand. Brand the aluminum sideways while painting a new picture for the union. Driving bears to barely walk through berry bushes shoveling bark through Barry Sanders living room. Bless thee ol' Lord for I have sinned, they ordered their bacon burnt and it's barely singed.

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