"Oh my head. Why does it feel like an ocean liner ran ashore right on top of my skull?" I roll over in my bed and my face is immediately greeted with the warmth of the sun as it comes through my bedroom windows. I reach down off my bed and with my right hand blindly probe the floor for my cell phone. It takes a few seconds but eventually I find the small slick rectangular object and grab hold of it. I pull it up to my face and look at the screen.
"Whoa."
I look back down at the screen trying to comprehend what it's telling me. 87 unread text messages and 13 new voicemails.
How is that even possible? It's hasn't even been like 9 hours since I last used the thing.
"What the heck happened last night?" I say to myself as I look around my normally well kept room and see what looks like the end result of a battle waged between my parents liquor cabinet and my own sobriety. And based on the pounding of my head and the sensitivity to light it seems pretty clear that my sobriety lost the battle, lost it hard.
I rolled completely out of bed, allowing the silk sheet to fall to the floor. I looked down and realize that I am wearing absolutely nothing. Nothing but a used rubber.
Awesome.
I look back at the bed to see the backside of a young lady who clearly spends all of her the money in her trust fund tanning beds. He long brown hair reaches the small of her back where upon a black tattoo lays. A tilt of my head 90 degrees reveals that tattoo reads "Daddy's Girl".
Great. Another chick with daddy issues. Come to think of it I could have sworn that the chick I went to bed with was a blonde. In fact I'm 100% positive she was a blonde. I remember because as is the case with 95% of the women in California a blonde is never really a blonde. In fact we even have our own term called a "California Blonde" that's how bad of an epidemic we have out here.
Oh wait...
The brunette rolls over onto her back revealing that there was also a blonde in bed with us.
No way...
The menage.
I'd always heard about the menage.
For a great while I had actually given up on the dream.
I like every other men ever created wanted to take part in a menage and now... when I finally reached the pinnacle of my own sexual exploration I can't remember a thing about it.
Was I good?
Of course I was.
Wait...
Oh my God...what if I was bad?
No, that's impossible.
Look at me...
It's like God came down from the Heavens above and said "That one. That will be the apex of creation."
But seriously. All this time I've been waiting for it to happen and now that it finally has I have no clue how it all went down?
What if it was amazing?
What if the two chicks just cut me out and I was left to love myself in the corner?
Improbable but still.
Why would you do this to me God? Why?
I can't handle this right now.
I just can't.
I walk over to my desk, push a few things around and find a half smoked doobie and a lighter that I bought at a local pot dispensary.
As soon as I turned 18 I got some cereal box shrink to write me a script for medical marijuana on account of my persistent "back pain" from a surfing accident. But that's another story for another day. I grab the half a blunt, the lighter and walk out onto my balcony and soak in the beauty that is my view.
Beautiful isn't it?
That's the Pacific Ocean.
This house I live in, my father designed it. He's an architect for some big firm in L.A. He's designed homes for a few different well off folks as well as some various businesses here in town. However his claim to fame is a skyscraper in downtown L.A. My mother is the President of a local bank. Both of them chose professions that require a lot of their time and they are both good at their jobs and as a result have they have attained a level of success that requires them to spend even more time at work than the typical 9 to 5er.
That's not me complaining btw. I love both of my parents, they both did a fantastic job raising me. They along with my maternal grandmother who also lives here with us provided everything I could ever ask for growing up. My grandmother was the person primarily responsible for raising me since my parents were so busy with work but again, I can't complain. Their hard work has allowed for me to basically have and do anything I've ever wanted. And their ignorance towards what is going on in my life allowed me to graduate from high school without any college or job prospects. And it's not that I couldn't get into college. I easily could have. Good ones too. I finished high school in the top 5% of my class and my SAT score was a 2300. So yeah, if I had the desire to continue my education I easily could have. But I didn't so I haven't.
Instead I spend my days surfing and my nights enjoying my youth. Which explains the carnage that is not just my bedroom but the pool area below. Mom and Dad would be pissed. If they paid attention enough to notice what was going on.
Oh well.
I walked back into my room and grabbed my cell which I had left on the desk. I call up my voicemail and start listening to all 13 messages.
"You have 13 new voice messages. The first message is dated yesterday April 3rd, 2015 at 11:09 pm from "Matthew Oaktree". "
"Flynn this is Matt Oaktree from the XWF. Just calling to remind you that you have a match on Wednesday April 15th. You and Bruce Blingsteen are taking on Nova Sin and Luna Hightower. I hope you got a way to get to the arena because we don't fuel the jets for rookies. See ya there sport."
"Second message dated yesterday April 3rd, 2015 at 11:36 pm from Taylor Jordan."
"Flynn brah where the hell are you? That blonde chick that you were talking to is looking for you. She's pretty tanked so you can probably close the deal."
"Well that explains the blonde." I say aloud while looking back over to the bed to see both the blonde and the fake blonde still passed out.
"Third message dated yesterday April 3rd, 2015 at 11:58 pm from P.J."
"Bro where the fuck are you? It's P.J. I've been banging on the front door for like 15 minutes. It sounds crazy in there. Let me in."
I wonder if he ever got in?
"Third message dated today April 4rd, 2015 at 12:46 am from Bruce Blingsteen."
Hey boss I'll be in town later this morning. Thinking maybe 9 or 10. Got some ish I need to wrap up here in L.A but then I'll be down. Get that weed and C.O.D ready. I'll bring the red bull. Peace."
"9 or 10? What time is it now?"
I look over at my clock and see that it's already 9:58 in the morning.
Crap. I guess I'll listen to the rest of these later.
I look around my room for trying to get the lay of the land. The whole room looks like a minefield, bottles and balled up clothes everywhere. I catch a glimpse of shorts and a tee laying across the back of my desk chair. I navigate the room trying to avoid the various empty bottles. I grab the clothes, quickly throw them on and leave me room, leaving behind the blonde whose name I can't remember and the brunette who I didn't even know existed.
A menage...Son of a B...
I walked down the hall and then down the staircase that lets out into the grand entryway. The house was furnished by my mother about 10 years ago and honestly, it is in need of some serious updating. And I'm not just saying that because there are solo cups and empty bottles of booze all over the place.
As I get to the bottom of the steps our maid Consuelo runs up to me all flustered.
"Mr. Flynn, Mr. Flynn." She says in her thick Hispanic accent.
Consuelo has been my parents maid since before I was born. She's a sweet lady, not bad looking for her age. And she has massive fun bags. Truth be told I one time caught a glimpse of her getting changed. That image helped me get through middle school. I'm not exactly sure how my parents came about hiring Consuelo but i'm glad they did. Consuelo has a son about my age that she has raised on her own. I've never met the kids father and come to think of it, I've never even heard her make mention of him. I'm told that Consuelo was born in Mexico and came to America sometime after she turned 18. Worked a few jobs here or there before finding stability here at "Casa del Cole-Erickson."
"What's wrong Consuelo? Is everything alright?"
"Yes yes Mr. Flynn, there is a man here, he says he is a friend of yours but I never seen him before. Do you want me to call the police?"
"Is his name Bruce?"
"Yes Mr. Flynn, his name is Bruce."
"Ok. Thank you Consuelo. He is a new friend of mine. He's from L.A. You'll probably see him a lot now. Him and a guy named Carson and one named Dick. Thank you for letting me know. Where can I find Bruce?" I ask her as I look around trying to locate Bruce for myself.
"He's in the theater room." She says as she points down the hall in the direction of the in-home movie theater.
"Thanks Consuelo. I'll take it from here."
"Very well Mr. Flynn." She says right before she picks up her dusting rag and heads down the hallway.
I stand still for a few seconds and watch as she walks away from me. Once she's out of view I turn around and walk down the opposite end of the hallway towards the in home movie theater.
A must have for my father when he designed the home.
The sounds of explosions and gunfire increase in volume as I approach the room. When I finally get there I walk through the doors which Bruce had left wide open and I see my house guest sitting in the center seat of the front row eating popcorn.
Popcorn that he got out of the old fashioned popcorn machine that my father bought off of Ebay. My mother asked why he wasted his money on something so old fashioned when we have a perfectly good microwave in the kitchen, my father said he did it so that he could give the room that old school movie theater feel.
Rather than even trying to speak over the sound system I instead hit the pause button on the remote pane affixed to the wall. My father had that installed so that he could start any film before even sitting down in his favorite seat.
Which by the way is the 2nd seat in from the left in the 3rd row back. He claims that it is the acoustic sweet spot of the room. I have no idea how he knows that but i'll take his word for it.
Bruce's head swings around when the film stops abruptly.
"Damn bro, my family is rich but we ain't theater rich. This shit is money." Bruce says as he jams a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. "By the way, the butter to popcorn ratio from that machine over there is mad decent."
"Good to know. Sorry I wasn't here to greet you, apparently I had a little too much to drink last night." I say as I grab at the back of my head as if doing so will somehow make my head stop pounding.
"Underaged drinking? I'm telling your pops."
"Good luck with that." I say half jokingly as I approach where Bruce was seated.
"Yo why didn't you tell me that you live in the same town as that fine ass Kristin Cavallari chick?"
"Well she doesn't live here anymore. She lives in Chicago with her husband and kids. But yes, she grew up in this town."
Typical. Anytime a new comer shows up in town they always either ask about or mention Kristin Cavallari or Lauren Conrad. Everytime. Without fail. Stupid MTV.
"No shit bro. That's tight. So when are we rolling up some green? Doctor says I needs that spinach."
"I need to get a little something to eat first then we can bake. How do you feel about sushi?"
"That raw fish shit? Fuck that, salmonella can fuck you up. Let's get a burrito. You got any good burrito places in this hippy colony?"
"Yeah actually we have a few."
"Good. Let's go get a couple of them bitches and then we smoke." Bruce says as he finishes off the small container of popcorn he was eating.
"Alright but you're driving." I say to Bruce as we exit the room.
"Why me?" Bruce asks inquisitively.
"Cause I ain't got a car bro." I respond with a straight face.
"What? Man when I turned 16 the first thing I did was get my license." Bruce says to me dumbfounded at the revelation that I don't own a car.
"I never needed one. Usually I just walk to wherever I'm going, or use my longboard." I say as we walk back through the grand entryway and out the front door.
"Goddamn, you're one of those people. Fine, I'll drive but you're playin' navigator, and best believe that lunch is on you homie."
Bruce and I walk down the driveway about 50 feet and get into his car. He puts his key into the ignition and with a quick turn ignites the car's engine. A few seconds later and we are off in search of some much needed food.
The new FACE of the XWF
W-L-D
5-0 One Half of the XWF Tag Team Champions (4/22/15 - Present)
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