A STUPID NIGHT It was Saturday night. A Saturday night not unlike many others.

I was down at the Big Shot, your typical neighborhood bar, full of the typical pathetic people who frequented such places. On this night I was one of them. I looked down the bar at the gallery of faces. They were a sorry lot, that was for sure. They were men who'd given up, men who the world had beaten. They looked like a bunch of whipped dogs. I knew if I sat there much longer I'd get depressed, so I looked around to see if there were any girls in the place. Finally I spotted two sitting alone at a table near the back I headed over. As I got closer I got a good look at them. Neither of them were particularly good looking. One was extremely skinny with mousy brown hair and these big horn-rimmed glasses. The other was this fat porker with a mass of bleached blond hair. When I reached the table I stood there, but neither of them would acknowledge me. You ladies mind if I sit down? I said. Suit yourself, the fat one snorted. I sat down. Neither one of them said a thing. They were trying to act extremely casual. Finally the skinny one said, I'm C.C. She looked down when she talked. This here's my friend Jackie. she said, indicating the fat pig. Jackie pulled out a pack of Salem lights and lit one up, inhaling through her nose. I already hated her. I didn't feel like just sitting there so I asked C.C. if she wanted to dance. She buried her head further into her chest. Kay, she said, getting up from her chair. Her fat friend just sat there sucking on her cig. She was trying to act as if she didn't care, but you could tell that it had hurt her feelings that I didn't ask her to dance. I didn't give a shit. Out on the floor I put my arms around C.C. There was nothing to her. No tits, no assnothing. Just a stick of a girl. As we danced, she pressed her pelvis tight against mine, which kind of surprise me. I immediately got a hard on, which surprised me even more. Somehow everything seemed OK. Nice even. I could feel C.C's warm breath on my neck. It smelled good. Whatsmore, she was really a very good dancer. She could follow every move I made with no trouble at all. What do you do anyhow? I asked. What? she said. I saidWHAT DO YOU DO? I had to practically yell it in her ear, the goddamn band was playing so loud. When the song ended, C.C. kept her face pressed into my neck. I didn't really get what you did...for a living I mean, I said. She looked up at me then.

I make monster masks. The band started into another song. Did you say you made monster masks? I asked, but she didn't answer. I guess she couldn't hear me. When the song was over, we went back to the table. C.C.'s fat friend wasn't there. But then I spotted her. She was out on the dance floor, necking like crazy with some greaseball who was wearing this very cheap seersucker suit. They had their arms wrapped around each other, and she looked like she was trying to suck the guys face off. It was truly disgusting. All of a sudden I started getting very nervous. There was no reason for it really. I guess C.C. saw it because she was looking at me kind of funny. Listen, I said. could we, you know, get out of here? C.C. looked perplexed. Butmy friend... she said. I looked out on the floor. The fat pig and her newfound friend were still sucking on each others faces. She'll be fine, I said. Please ... let's just go. C.C. stood up and put on her coat. It was this red shiny thing with some kind of fake fur lining. It looked like it had come from Woolworth's or someplace. For one second I felt horribly, unendurably sad. But the next second I pushed the feeling away. You didn't have room to feel said when you were playing out cheesy little melodramas like this. I followed C.C. to her car, a beat up green Mustang. The thing was filthy inside, littered with empty Peanut Butter Cup and Abba Zabba wrappers, empty coke cans, and old newspapers. We drove through the streets of L.A. I felt as if I were in some kind of dream. I didn't know where I was and I didn't care. We passed apartment building after apartment building. All the same. Inside them I could see lights on, sometimes a TV flickering. I wondered who lived behind all those windows. What were their lives like? What did they think about? But I didn't wonder seriously enough or hard enough to try to get any answers. We kept on driving. I thought maybe were in East L.A., but couldn't tell for certain. All I knew was that the people on the streets had begun to look more desperate. Finally we pulled up in front of an aging brick building. The sign out front read: CARLTON APARTMENTS DAILY. WEEKLY. MONTHLY I followed C.C. up a musty stairwell carpeted with uriney smelling burgundy carpeting. She got to number 3C and put the key in the door. As the lights went on I was hit by a wave of shock. The walls of the place were entirely covered with horrible faces, ugly rubbery creatures of every variety. Demons, witches, ghouls, Frankensteins, vampires and werewolves surrounded me. It was really quite a sight. The only other thing in the room besides the masks was a small black and white TV, a horrible lime green sofa, and a small twin bed. I went over to get a closer look at one of the masks. "Did you really make all these? I asked.

C.C. didnt answer. When I turned around I saw that she'd taken off her shirt. Then, very quickly, she stepped out of her jeans. She did it so fast that it sort of scared me, though looking at her there wasn't much to be scared of. She almost looked like a little boy standing there like that. Lets, go, hey. she said. Frankly I didn't really feel much like doing anything, but it looked like I didn't have much choice. C.C. got under the covers. I followed. She reached over and flicked out the light. As soon as I touched her she began to moan. Not just little moans but real loud ones. Oh! Oh! Oh! she went. She grabbed me tight and raked her nails across my back. She was really quite strong for such a skinny nothing of a girl. I just sort of went through the motions, but it didn't seem to matter. C.C. was lost to the world, to me, to everything. When she came she screamed so loud she practically shattered my eardrum. Almost immediately afterward she fell asleep. And there I lay in the darkness of her room. Soon my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I looked around at the strange gallery of faces that lined the walls. Oddly, they didn't look scary. And somehow, instinctively I realized that these were C.C.'s friends. Her family, in a way. Other than that, I knew nothing about the Monster Mask girl. Whether she had a real family, what she wondered about, what her dreams were. No, of these things I knew nothing. And yet I could smell her cunt on my fingers. It was really quite odd. And just then I had this strange thought. It was more than a t hought, actually. It was this sort of realization. What I realized was that everything in the world was going on at once. Like right this second, someone was having a baby. Somebody else was crying because their boyfriend had just left them. Somebody was picking up a hooker. Somebody was visiting a graveyard. Somebody was planning a wedding. Somebody was jacking off. Somebody was drinking Dr. Pepper. Somebody was taking a shit. Somebody was reading Dostoevsky. Somebody else was reading Catcher In The Rye. Oh, what a delicious thought! All over the world things were taking place simultaneously! People were eating, sleeping, farting, fucking, and standing in supermarket lines. People were laughing, crying, praying, singing and vomiting. People were playing symphonies, being killed in car crashes, watching Jay Leno and mailing away for ads in the back of Hustler. People were learning speed reading, going to fat farms, conjuring up Satan, being baptized, doing crossword puzzles, picking their faces, embezzling money, taking antidepressants, being barmitzvahed, lynching Negroes, falling down manholes, running for governor, going to traffic school, playing pool, pounding their puds, soaking their feet, doing the bop, and shooting the curl. People were at shopping malls, magazine racks, racetracks, fish markets, pawn shops, boxing matches, whorehouses, all-night diners, airports, police stations, drive ins, churches, mental hospitals, used car lots, porn theatres, circuses, dermatologists offices, taxi dance halls, massage parlors, drugstores, karate studios and Greyhound bus stations. Somewhereright this very secondsomebody was falling in love. Somebody else was having their heart broken. Somebody was stuffing their face. Somebody was wiping their ass. Somebody was playing old Junior Parker records. Somebody was clipping the long hairs out of their nostrils. Somebody was squeezing a boil on their tuchus. Somebody was saying their rosary. Somebody was dreaming of dancing witches. Somebody else was dreaming of a fat lady flying up to the moon with a flag sticking out of her ass.

It was amazing! Absolutely fucking amazing! And what was most amazing of all was that while all of this was going on, here I was in this strange apartment with the Monster Mask girl a girl whom I knew absolutely nothing about. Well, I don't know. Maybe it wasn't such a big revelation, but it seemed like it at the time. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. So I quietly got out of bed and slipped into my clothes. I kissed C.C. on the cheek, then I opened the front door and stepped outside. It was cold and foggy now. I glanced at my watch. 1:30 a.m. Probably there would still be some busses running. I zipped up my jacket and I began to walk. The streets were empty. Clip clop, clip clop. My heels echoed against the cold pavement. I headed down an alley and came out on what looked like more of a main street. I walked faster now. Little electric sounds were in the air. Then at the far end of the street I saw three figures coming in my direction. I suppose I should have felt scared but for some reason I didn't. As they got closer, I could make them out three black dudes, stroking along in that curious way that blacks have. They kept walking. So did I. I was outside of myself again, and I watched the scene with vague curiosity. Now I could see them better. They were fairly young, maybe seventeen or so. Despite the fact that it was cold outside, they were outfitted only in thin, sleeveless T-shirts. As we got closer we both slowed down. We all knew what was coming. Finally when we were within a few feet from another, we stopped. Nobody said anything. Then the guy in the middlea muscular kid with a red t-shirt and a blue neckerchief wrapped loosely around his neck stepped foreword. The money, man, was all he said. I slipped my hand inside my shoulder bag and moved it around until I felt the butt of my .38. The kid seemed very nervous. I didn't even look at his buddies. Somehow this was between us. I said let's have the money, bro. I don't think so, I said. The kid looked at his friends. Inside me I felt a tiny bubble of fear erupt, but I willed it away. It shot off into the blackness of my stomach. Now I was just blank. Empty. The kid took another step towards me. I heard the click before I saw the blade flash under the lone streetlamp. Give it up, man, he said, or I'll haveta cut you. I pulled the gun out and aimed it at his chest. I felt nothing just dead inside. I could see every detail of the kids face, as if it were in closeup. The smooth cheeks with just a few wispy hairs sprouting out, the wide ape-like nose, the long lashes, the green flecks in his pupils.

A tiny vein near the iris of the kid's eye twitched for an instant and then he came at me. I lowered the gun and shot him just above the kneecap. He went down screaming. Immediately one of his friends turned and ran. I felt no desire to stop him. The other guy just stood there, as if he didn't know what to do. I turned on him, pointed the gun and shot him in the face. A neat, black hole opened just above the cheekbone. His teeth drew back in a rictus of pain, and he went down on his knees. I stepped forward and shot him in the temple. This time he toppled over sideways, blood pouring from his ears. I stood over him, looking down. He looked curious. Nice in a way. The blood was so black. One of his hands twitched and I thought about shooting him again, but I knew there was no need. You're one dead nigger, I said. I turned back to the first kid, who was writhing all over the ground and screaming. I approached him and pointed the gun at his head. You motherfucking crazy sonofabitch! he screamed. You're crazy, manfuckin' crazy! I watched him rolling around for another second. What's your name, man? I asked. Fuck you, you goddamn crazy sumbitch! he yelped. I bent down and shoved the gun between his lips, shoving it down his throat until he gagged. I said what's your name? The kid's eyes were rolling around like crazy. I withdrew the gun until the barrel was barely touching his lips. He was crying now. Jesus Christplease don't shoot me again, mister. Please don't shoot... Your name, I said again. He could hardly stop crying now. Jesus Christ, man...my name's Maurice. My goddamn fucking name is Maurice! I removed the gun from his mouth and stood up. I stayed like that for a full twenty seconds. Then I put the gun back in my bag. I looked around. The streets were strangely empty. The kid was holding his knee, but he'd stopped rolling around now. He just lay there sort of whimpering. I zipped up my bag. Zip! it went. Then I turned and began walking down the street. I thought I'd remembered that we'd passed a 7-11 just before we'd gotten to C.C.'s place. I hoped I could find it. I really needed some coffee, and 7-11's have excellent coffee. They really do. After that, I figured I'd see if I could find a bus that would take me back home.

Stuart Goldman