"Rehab: The Fake Tales of a Real Asshole" Scene 9

Click here for parts 1 – 8 of Rehab.

I head to the bathroom and sit on the toilet. Minutes ago after Mr. W. Scott punched me in the stomach I'd never had the urge to shit so bad in my life. Now I am fine. After ten minutes I get up and flush for no reason. I walk over to the mirror and look at myself. I look okay. Not great, but okay. My teeth could be whiter and I have a few premature gray hairs coming in. My nose is slightly crooked from that fall I took back in '09 down that flight of stairs. Or was it from when I took that cops nightstick and pretended to give it a blowjob while he had it on his hip? Either way, its crooked. Just when I'm about to leave Happy Hands walks in.

“Wow” he says to me. I just shrug. “That was quite a show you put on out there.”

“I don't get what you mean” I reply. For once he isn't touching himself. Its hard to recognize him.

“That speech you gave about your parents leaving the liquor out and all that” he says. “Oh, come on! A bullshitter can spot a bullshitter, man. And you are a bullshitter.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!” he shouts. He slaps me on the shoulder and laughs. I make a mental note to burn this shirt as soon as possible. “I don't care, but we are here to get better. Be honest and all that shit. Speaking of which...” he says and heads to a stall. He closes it and immediately starts going number two.

“You need some private time?” I ask him. He grunts.

“No, I'm good” he says. “See, I'm not sure if you've noticed but I got a slight problem with masturbation.”

“I had no idea” I lie. He laughs. Then grunts.

“If you can't be honest to a man on the shitter than I don't know who you can be honest to” he laughs. “Anyways, I don't consider it a problem. Society does. I never even started doing it in public until two weeks before coming here. And that was just 'cause my wife stopped fucking me. Man, we used to get down all the time. Then she just stopped. I think she might be cheating on me.” Happy Hands flushes and comes out of the stall. He starts washing his hands. No soap. “The thing with problems, addictions, diseases, afflictions, whatever the fuck you wanna call them, is that they aren't a problem until you make 'em a problem for everybody else. You get me?”

“Not really” I tell him.

“You look far smarter than you actually are” he tells me. “Look at smoking for instance. Right? No one gives a fuck if you smoke. Smoke until you're dead. Whatever. But second hand smoke? Oh, now we have a problem! Your addiction is now hurting people around you! Drinking. Do it all you want! Just stay the fuck indoors! Don't get in your car and on the road where people are. Its not a problem until it affects someone else. Am I making sense to you?”

“Yeah” I tell him. He is.

“I wasn't getting any action at home anymore from my wife” he repeats. “I couldn't jerk off at home. Can you imagine? Me, a grown married man with free pussy laying right there in bed next to me that I can't fuck, but if I'm in the bathroom for more than five minutes she suspects something is going on. So I start doing it at work, which you can imagine is far harder than you'd think. I tried doing it on the way to work but that was only a six minute commute.

“So one day while sitting in my driveway I whip it out and go to town. It was dark, I thought no one was watching. But my neighbor and his wife were. They watched from beginning to glorious end. As soon as I finished, I opened my eyes and looked both of them in the face. They slowly closed the curtains. I cleaned myself off and by the time I walked into my house my wife knew what had happened. Next thing you know here I am.”

“Now its my turn to say 'wow'” I say. He laughs and slaps my shoulder again. “If you know what your problem is, then why is it that most every time I see you you're beating off?”

“Well...” he says, “...I figured I'd be here for about two days tops. But then I saw that broad with the cans of a goddess and a face that looks like the Third Reich practiced marching on it. You know the one?”

“I know the one” I say. He's talking about Boobs of course. She has the breasts of Kate Upton but the face of Upton Sinclair.

“I'm not leaving here until she fucks me” he says. He pretends to drop an imaginary microphone and walks out. Well played.

I look in the mirror one last time and head out of the bathroom. Softy is standing right outside of the door. She takes me by the hand and we duck into a small corridor. She kisses me on the lips and smiles. I am about to say something when she knees me in the dick. I fall to the floor with the urge to shit once again.

“I like you” she says, kisses me on top of the head, and walks away.