[ WP ] It 's New Years Eve . Your best friend died in September , you 've been robbed twice , your girl friend is leaving you , you 've just lost your job and the only one left to talk to is a gay burglar you 've got tied up in the kitchen . P.S . Your cat is dead .

I remember almost exactly one year ago. You know I might actually know the exact moment in time one full, flat, long year ago. On December 31st, 2000, at 11:51, I was getting laid. Yes that's it! Lisa was riding me in the laundry room of my apartment, with my parents and siblings just outside watching the news and mingling over stale egg nog. As much as I hated holidays, a holiday might be the only thing that saves me. Ideally, I might be in the exact opposite spot of where I wanted to be, one exact full fucking year later. 
 
 Why is it that in every shitty life scenario, it's always a construction worker? You'd think after some guys fly a plane into a couple of buildings, a construction worker, or more specifically, an architect, would have a hayday with the mayor on reconstructing the World Trade Center. But no, after the towers came down and killed my best friend, nobody had a plan for ground zero and I was effectively laid off on the grounds of `` A dark future with no clear outcomes''. I'll tell you what's coming, Fucking war! If I were smart, I'd have jumped in the weapons industry with my engineering background, then I could be sipping wine with Cheney and Satan! But no, I'm sitting on my kitchen floor, with a revolver in one hand, and a stereotypical bottle of Jack in the other. Happy Fucking New Year. 
 
 The gun is n't for me, it's for the burglar sitting across from me with a head wound and mild manners. I wo n't dig the details of how, other than him hopping through the window into a dark kitchen, only to be clubbed by a drunk guy with a rolling pin. We both systematically sat and heaved a heavy sigh, spending a few basking in each other's presence. Could n't you tell were both loners? 
 
 `` Would you believe me if I said you're # 3 in a line of burglars this month for me?'' 
 
 `` Absolutely.'' 
 
 `` So you know the previous two, and that I roughed them up pretty bad.'' 
 
 `` No you did n't, you did n't lay a hand on my brother or my boyfriend.'' 
 
 I wanted him to catch my bluff, it's what Jacky boy used to do. 
 
 `` So you guys all keep tabs on me, I would n't know you guys would I?'' 
 
 `` Nah we're small time, we move about and one day my boyfriend Greg goes,'You see that sad fucken sap? I bet he would n't even care if we jacked his shit.''' 
 
 I took a glance at the crippled body of my cat laying at the other end of the kitchen. He saw me look and piped up. 
 
 `` Look Lou I'm sorry about the kitty, I did n't think that would happen.'' 
 
 Upon our scuffle, little Ace got scared and jumped forward into the kitchen cabinet, this prompted a couple of pans to fall down and break all of his little bones. Complete accident. 
 
 `` Nah it's fine, it was my girlfriends anyways. It's kind of funny.'' 
 
 `` Heheh that's fucking sick Lou.'' 
 
 `` Nah it's funny cause she left it here for awhile because the guy she's fucking has a dog and would n't take the cat. She was gon na pick it up when she rented her own place. Now I'm just gon na tell her the cat symbolized our relationship.'' 
 
 `` Why?'' 
 
 `` Because they're both fucken dead.'' 
 
 We both had our sobering laughs for a minute. Six minutes to midnight. I piped up again, 
 
 `` My name's Barry, why are you calling me Lou?'' 
 
 `` Short for loser, we'd call guys that who looked like they'd been drowned in a brewery accident.'' 
 
 `` You would n't be far off, bud.'' I trailed off while gulping down some more hard liquor like an asshole. 
 
 `` You know why you have n't shot me?'' 
 
 `` Why is that, gay burglar?'' 
 
 `` Louis, and it's because you do n't know what you wan na be when you grow up.'' 
 
 The hypocritical gay burglar, or Louis, had a point. 
 
 `` I'm 29 years old. Maybe the reason I'm showing mercy is because I lost my girl, my job, my sense of security, my cat, and my best friend going down last September.'' 
 
 `` It's only bad because you said it out loud, Lou.'' 
 
 It's like if Confucius busted through my window just to set me straight, and liked cock. 
 
 `` Something tells me you did n't wan na be a friggin pathetic piece a shit when you answered in kindergarten. You probably wanted to fly into the moon or fuck Farrah Fawcett.'' 
 
 `` Are n't you gay?'' 
 
 `` Does n't mean I would n't fuck Farrah Fawcett.'' 
 
 `` And how does that play into my current pitfalls?'' 
 
 `` You caused them.'' 
 
 The burglary did n't piss me off, killing my pet did n't piss me off, but *that* pissed me off. 
 
 He continued, 
 
 `` You did n't knock down the towers, but a guy who's been unemployed for a few months in this city and did n't work shit out with his ex does n't seem like he's career oriented if you catch my drift. 
 
 `` Do you believe in divine intervention, Lou?'' He asked. 
 
 `` No I'm not religious.'' 
 
 `` Good cause if you did you'd be a fucken retard. 
 
 `` The point is that you're not happy with a *steady* life or a *steady job* or a *steady* wife. You need to fight bears or climb mountains. You need to fuck a girl who do n't speak the same language. You're fucking Marco Polo with a huge dick, take to the world man and stop making me so fucking sad. You're not that little bundle of shit laying in the corner over there who's highlight of his life was getting crushed by cooking ware. You were n't in those towers, you were n't getting your head blown off in the sand. You're walking around town, like an asshole, but still walking.'' 
 
 And just like that, I made a new friend. 
 
 `` You wan na get a beer?'' 
 
 After a pause, Louis took off his mask and wiped his head. 
 
 `` Sure, Lou. Show me the way.'' 
 
 Two minutes to midnight. 

