Twirling 

The first thing Case said to me when she woke up was, “Can you do that somewhere else?” Her eyes were covered by a gray sleep mask, and her breath stunk from her unwashed mouth guard. 

I turned towards her and said, “But… There’s nowhere for me to go?” 

Case grunted and pleaded, “Please… I’m trying to sleep.” I heard her cry and took my hand out of my pants. 

My thumb and index finger had been aggressively twirling my pubes since I’d woken up. It was how I prefered to enter the day. The act of twirling brought a calmness over my body, and occupied my mind and hands. I preferred it to sitting on my cell-phone, reading bad-news or looking for texts from friends that never came. 

“Want me to go outside?” I said angrily. I lifted my head from my pillow and carefully made sure not to hit my skull on the roof of my car. We’d been living in it for the past week, and this was the final straw. 

All I longed for was a second room. In our old apartment we had four rooms. The bedroom, kitchen, living-room and bathroom. Each room served its own purpose and had its own quirks and appeal. 

I would often twirl my pubes in the living room. It was a quiet room, with only one small window. When I woke up, I’d go pee first. Then instead of trekking all the way back to bed I’d close the shade in the living room, before going horizontal and begin twirling. 

I’d shove my hand into my pants, and turn the unshaved forest into a playground for my fingers. 

“Just do it in the front…” Case said, while still half-asleep. 

I rolled over from the back of my ancient SUV and flopped awkwardly into the driver’s-seat. My stomach smacked against the gear-shift and I prayed it wouldn’t pierce straight through my belly-button. 

“Jesus!” Case screamed, when I accidentally honked the horn with my flailing arm. I thankfully was able to catch myself a moment later, and once I became situated I removed the tin-foil layer I’d put on the window for privacy – I’d seen online this was a needed item to live in one’s car. And before we said goodnight on our first night I made sure to steal some at the 24/7 grocery store we’d parked at. 

My eyes took a moment to adjust to the blistering-sun, before I noticed there were a few shoppers already beginning to flock to and from the store. They were all wheeling large, red carts and the one’s entering had large, eager smiles on their faces. While the departing looked content and tired as they loaded their trunks with an assortment of sugary cereals and cheap ground beef. 

Their bodies were moving without worry, and their routineness shot straight into my chest. It forced my heart to swell and pump too fast. The shoppers were completely naive to how grateful they were to go shopping. 

Case and I didn’t have a penny left to our name. My SUV didn’t have insurance and the back wheel was deflated, making the car seem like you’re on a raft where there was a particularly large person sitting on one side.

Life hadn’t been kind to us and it was no-one’s fault. Case and I just had bad-luck, but I still somehow felt like the luckiest person in the world – because we were in love. Love was the only thing I actually had left, and it made it easier to split up a box of pasta into the actual recommended eight servings. We would measure it out in our hands before using the hot-plate and pan I’d stolen from the same big-box store, making sure to put back enough to save for 4 dinners. 

We would laugh while we were starving, and going to sleep hungry wasn’t too bad when you could gnaw on your other-half’s arm as a joke. 

It created a state of being where I felt oddly grateful to be homeless. And when I finally positioned my hand to reach down and began to twirl my unwashed jungle once again, I stopped myself. 

I was content with where life had taken me, and I thought I’d never need to leave this SUV ever again. I could pee in a bottle and dump it out the window, and I’d read you didn’t have to eat for thirty days. 

But the moment I saw through the windshield this old woman tripped, and her groceries went tumbling all over the asphalt I couldn’t resist. I pulled my hand straight out of my shorts and flung open the door. I felt my bare-feet burn against the ground but it didn’t stop me. 

This woman had dropped enough food to feed a family of 10, and when I helped her up and placed the food back into her cart I couldn’t help myself. 

“Thank you young man.” The woman said, before I watched her disappear in the parking-lot abyss while I giggled with excitement. Because I’d hidden a big, family sized box of mac-n-cheese in the back of my pants. 

It was going to make the perfect dinner and I felt a rush of excitement smack into me. I could barely wait a minute to tell Case, and when I flung open the door I yelled, “You’ll never guess what’s for dinner tonight!” But Case didn’t even bother to take her sleep mask off before yelling, “Please shut-up! I’m sleeping!” 

Leaving me to sit in the front-seat with the mac-n-cheese on the dashboard, and with nothing better to do than to begin allowing the blood to flow from my head to my fingers. I let them warm up for a few moments before I shoved them just above my penis. And began to engage in the one, dependable activity I knew no-matter how poor I was I could always count on being there.