some night

this guy’s just like you,
she said, he never gets
lonely,
he never wants to see
anybody.
I’d like you to meet
him.

I don’t want to meet
anybody, I
told her.

come on, she insisted,
he just lives down
here…

I followed her down a
dark stairway
into a cellar
filled with cobwebs
and overhanging
pipes.
she started knocking
on this door:

Marty!   Marty!
it’s Eva!   I know
you’re in there.
open up!

she knocked
harder:

open the door or
I won’t stop
knocking!

look, I told her,
there’s a padlock on
the outside of the
door, he’s out
somewhere…

you’re right, she
said, let’s
go…

I followed her up
the stairway and we
walked down the
street.

last time I saw
Marty, Eva said,
he told me he was
abstaining from
sex…

yeah? I
asked.

yeah, she said, I
unzipped him, took
his thing out and
began on
him.

what’d he say?
I asked.

he said, ‘God help
me!’

did God help?

I finished him
off, said
Eva.

we walked along.
we had the whole
night
ahead of us
and I hadn’t
given up
anything
but
I might as well
have.

I’ll see Marty some
other time, she
told me.

fine, I
said.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1983