There was the dog of course, but that came later. She had big white teeth and translucent skin taut with what I assume was persistent meth use and growing up in Alaska. No last name comes to mind, and I would be loathe to use her first because her smile was large and pained. The invitation was an interview of sorts, one at which I failed miserably due to some degree of madness at the time that I’m unable to quantify as anything other than scattered. I was to take her to the grocery store where she complimented my new watch and uncoincidentally ran into her roommate who was twice as skinny, methed or coked up, and also had large shiny teeth. I don’t remember all that much after that until the dog, although I’m fairly certain that I was simply drunk during their frenzied sprinting around their apartment after scoring something from a guy down the hall. Tacos were involved and some bad television that in retrospect I probably wasn’t consuming the proper substances to appreciate.
I was asleep when her friend dropped off the dog. The barking woke us and she was shocked to find me in her bed, so awkwardness persisted for a few minutes while the dog continued barking in the background. It was probably 4am or so when she went to her roommate’s room and did not return. The room was hot and the dog continued to bark. They were not asleep when I left, but on passing me in the hall they seemed altered and somewhat uninterested. A large guy followed them to their apartment. The roommate ran up and down the hall while the girl struggled with her keys. Eventually the big guy walked in and shut the door behind them.
I ran into her later that week and she had little to no recollection of the evening. The dog had been lost at some point and her friend was irate about it. Her roommate hadn’t come home in a few days either, but that was apparently normal when she was having boyfriend problems. She kept calling me Robert even though that isn’t mine name, and punctuated every sentence by craning her neck down, and then spiraling it up at me with a gape-mouthed astounded smile. I would like to think that she was mocking me in some way that I was unable to understand at the time, but due probably in no small part to my own issues at the time I never really had much contact with her again so can’t say for certain. Sadly, the dog was fished out of the harbor later that week with injuries I will not describe here.