Island Fruit

Last night I went out to the grocery store for my third  bottle of Arbor Mist. Drinking was the best way to deal with my problems. Alcohol had gotten me through very tough times. Besides, it had been a hell of a day earlier, eviction notice on my door, decreased pay from working at a laundry mat!  My boyfriend of one month broke up with me. With that embedded in my head, I decided to buy two bottles. On my way to checkout, there was a guy by the flowers section that seemed to be in a rush. Obviously, because he walked right into me causing me to involuntarily dropped both bottles of Island Fruit on the floor. Drenched by the splatter and becoming sober, my stress level was beyond extreme.
     "What the fuck is your problem?!" Although he was also splattered, the guy seemed more annoyed that I was asking him a question. He quickly apologized and continued walking. This pissed me off even more. Having current in therapy sessions due to my extreme anger management issue. I slapped my hand across this stranger's structured chest and forcefully pushed him back into his recent position.
      "You spilled alcohol on my clothes! At least you can do is offer to pay to get them cleaned!" Not that I couldn't just wash them. All I was wearing was some old fitted blue jeans and a grey tank top. Though my black slides were from Payless on sale for $14.99, it would take me forever to get the smell of Island Fruit out of leather.
      "Look, I'm sorry. Here. This should cover it." Handing me a crisp hundred dollar bill. That was a blessing. All I had to my name was ten dollars and I was spending that on a drink. I snatched the money and stormed out of the store. Sitting in my car dreading the fact that I had to go to another store, I stuck the key in the ignition, fired it up and reversed out of the parking space right into the car behind me. BAM!!!!!!!! My heart jumped out of my chest. Just that morning I gotten a speeding ticket and cursed out the officer for not stopping the other cars flying past me, now this. As I was writing down my information, which consisted of squiggly lines as if I just learned how to write, due to my trembling hands, a voice roared from behind me.
      "What the fuck is your problem?!" Oh no. This was not happening.
      "Uh....." Before I could get a word out, he started yelling again.
       "You hit my car! At least you can do is pay to get it fixed!" There was no way I could reach into my pocket and pull out thousands of dollars to make it all better. I could barely pay my bills including the car insurance rate that was about to increase that night. To my surprise when the police arrived, the gentlemen was calm. His angered had disappeared. Mine had returned when the smart ass cop told me that I could not drive with two busted tail lights.
      "How in the hell am I supposed to get home?" That alone got me handcuffed and placed in the back of the squad car. Kicking the seats and crying, I thought to myself, 'Maybe I do need anger management'. Or better yet, an Island Fruit would've been perfect! I should have been lucky the cop didn't smell the two bottles of Island Fruit on my breath. Minutes later, the officer opened the door.
      "You calm now?" How badly I wanted to punch him right in his chin butt. Breathing deeply helped a lot.
      "Yeah, I'm alright." He pulled me out of the car and took the cuffs off. There was no choice but to call a tow truck.
        As I waited for the cab I had no choice but to call, Oscar, walked over and offered to take me home. From his insurance information, I noticed that he didn't live that far from a twenty-four hour convenience store, which was only four blocks away from my apartment. As we rode, I noticed a faint rattling sound on the driver's side of Oscar's sporty BMW. It sounded expensive, but he didn't seem to notice, or care. I apologized again, but Oscar began rambling on about why he was even at the grocery store in the first place.
      "I was trying to save my relationship. My girlfriend loves flowers. She claims I'm too business oriented and never do anything thoughtful. All because I made her pay for her half of dinner. I'm not married to her." That sounded like some drama.  And even though drama and I weren't strangers, I really didn't want another greeting. Soon I saw the 24 hour Stop and Shop. I politely asked Oscar to pull over since he was still talking about his girl not appreciating him after he gave her everything she could ever want. I would've been satisfied. Oscar wasn't gorgeous, but he was sexy. His gym membership was well worth the investment and he spoke with such gentleness. Whatever his profession was, he made great money doing it. And whoever Oscar prayed to must have talked to him for me. The average person would have been pissed if someone wrecked their 2010 pearl white BMW. Not only was he giving me a ride home, but he was talking to me about his problems. Either Oscar was crazy or deeply troubled.
      "You still want a drink after all this?" Oscar pulled into the bumpy drive-way of the store. Settling for one bottle of Island Fruit this time, we continued on my street.
      "You can drop me off here. I'm sorry about your wife." I made it sound like the woman was dead.Oscar wasn't the only one that had relationship issues. I had a horrible relationship that ended two weeks ago. He said I wasn't what he envisioned after dating for a month and since, well,  I can never be white, I'll never be the woman he wanted. Closing the car door, walking up to my apartment as the wind circulated under the eviction notice on my door, causing it to flap, reminding me that I had twenty-eight more days there. Tears filled up in my eyes. How could I have given up everything to move to a city with a man that nobody believed in and spend all of my savings buying long hair and skin bleaching creams. Not to mention my sore muscles from doing thirty reps to enlarge my breast and that bastard still left me for a white bitch that thought eating raw fish was healthy! Sitting on the step crying like a baby. I popped open that bottle of Island Fruit and drank it straight down. Oscar still sat in the car. I assumed he was waiting for me to go into the house. Making sure I was safe. I began to feel hot, so I searched for my keys. Soon as the locked popped, I was grabbed from behind and thrown on the sofa right next to the door. I used it to barricade the front door at night. The door slammed and Oscar stood over me. In his hands were two plastic grocery bags. Two gallon size bottles of Island Fruit. We drank and every single drop. I didn't resist him as he had his way with me all night long. Any position I was afraid to try, Oscar knew how to persuade me otherwise. My body had never felt so good. He even got me to smoke a cigarette afterward. Sweet dreams having fallen asleep with Oscar still inside me.
       The next morning I woke up on the floor naked and alone. I convinced myself that I wasn't a whore, just drunk. All I could think about was Oscar, but when I called the number from his insurance information, it went straight to voicemail. Two weeks later, I received a letter from my insurance agency. They refused to pay due to my negligence. The total damage was $1100. I called Oscar thinking that I had already "paid" for the damage. Call went straight to voicemail again. Oscar's lawyer however, did call to inform me that I had sixty days to pay for the damage or I would be taken to court. The lawyer had no problem reminding me that it was just business.
     "You are responsible for the accident and Oscar shouldn't take care of your expenses." He laughs. "It's not like you're married to him." Nostrils flaring, I tore up my apartment hoping a piece of the island was still there. Nothing.