Knocked Out (Patreon)

My first thought was of excitement when the door bell rang. We had been planning this evening for over a month. First an early dinner at the Mandarin Oriental followed by the ballet at Lincoln Center. Then, after a few hours of looking at insanely well developed buttocks, wrapped in the tightest materials known to man, a few cocktails and finally having all coherent thoughts fucked out of my skull. I didn’t even question why he was twenty minutes early. On time is usually hard enough for him. My heart sunk once I open the door and instead found his ex.

- What do you want, Brian?
- You… You think you can just show up and undo everything?
- I don’t… You know you two had already broken up when we met.
- I wont allow it!
- Hey, have you been drinking. It smells funn… HEY, STAY AWAY!

Brian grabs me with both his hands and slams me right in the side of the truck. I swerve wildly across the road. Lucky me that no one bothers to be around here. As I regain control over the vehicle, I slow down and stop the truck at the side of the road. What the fuck is going on?

My heart is pounding, as I stare into the grimy dash of my F250. I raise my eyes and look out the window. A few houses and a diner ahead in the distance, a commercial farm to the left, but otherwise just dirt, vegetation and land too unruly to farm. Again, what the fuck is going on? I adjust the rear mirror and have a look at myself. It’s not the familiar 22 year old urban park architect looking back. 22 years, perhaps, and male, but that’s about where the similarities end. The first impression of the face beneath the Fox cap and unkempt hair is dickish. He looks like someone who would say racial slurs just to get a reaction. The body is lean, muscular, unevenly tanned and in need of a shower. He is wearing a previously white T-shirt with sleeves cut off, blue jeans and a 2 pound belt buckle.

I look down in my lap. He is me. Fuck no! I should be at the Aviary at the Mandarin. I should have a oak barrel aged Manhattan. I need air. I need something.

I stumble out of the truck and, never been in a vehicle you need to climb down from, fall down on the dirt road. I get up, put my hands behind my head and slowly walk around the truck. How the fuck did Brian do this to me? It’s even a shitty truck. A shitty truck on a shitty road. I brush some of the road off my knee. Shitty clothes and a shitty body. I get a glimpse of myself in the side mirror. Would I ever have fucked this guy if I met him? Never in a million years.

I reach into my back pocket and grab my can of wintergreen skoal. I’d almost opened the lid when I realize what I’m doing. “FUCK YOU BRIAN!” I shout, as I hurl it into the ditch and walk another round around the truck. So, my voice is different too. That means I can’t call anyone I knew for help…

I get back into the truck and stare down the road. Who am I even? I empty out my pockets. A wad of cash and keys to my place on the other side of the hill behind me. I have a place? This is like an treasure hunt where every clue just reveals more shit. I reach over and pull out the papers for the truck. Well, I got the same name as before at least. I’m pretty sure my name has always been Jed. And Jed is hungry, I realize, and probably why the truck was headed towards the diner.

Just inside the door of the diner I’m greeted by a pair of boobs with the name tag “Daisy”. I realize that I have not checked out the dick size of new Jed, but the jeans sure are getting tighter. Looking up I see that Daisy also has a pretty face.

- Howdy. Are you on break?
- No?
- Table for one then.

I can hardly look away from how her butt sways as she seats me at a window seat and hands me a menu. I’m back to staring at boobs.

- Any specials today?
- Those are not on the menu, honey.
- That’s a shame.
- And only what’s on the menu today, I’m afraid. We had to spend all night trying to mop up the basement. No idea where the water is coming from, with no rain and all.

I look out the window. In the distance is the Stenson farm. Fucking corporate farming.

- They are building a new manure lagoon over there, right?
- Yes, they are. Pouring a lot of concrete.
- Well, that’s your problem. Put a big barrier down the ground and the ground water flow will bounce up a mile away. Just tell them to dig a drain well outside and you won’t sue for ruining your property.
- You know, perhaps there is an off menu special today after all.

I guess park architecture has some uses here too.

- Got any skoal?