Los Caballeros del Exceso

I woke up to a pounding in my head that thrummed in time to the low bass thumping from a subwoofer somewhere nearby.

As I **** my eyes open, I found myself in a simple room featuring the fold-out couch-bed that I had been sleeping on, several old cardboard boxes, a small fan sitting on an end table, and a radio that seemed older than I was. The walls of the room were bare, without so much as a coat of paint, and devoid of windows. Sliding off the bed, my feet hit the bare wooden floor.

“Clearly this isn't the Ritz,” I mumbled to myself as I fought for balance against the pounding in my skull.

I examined myself and found that I remained in the dress from the auction, except that the top had been untied and my breasts bare. I sighed and took a moment to reassure myself that some asshole ogling my boobs as they brought me here was the mildest misfortune that could have befallen me. A second later, it was fixed.

{if }I ran my fingers through my hair and found both of Katja's dragonflies sitting calmly in hiding. Gingerly, I scooped them up and set them{else}I ran my fingers through my hair and found Katja's remaining dragonfly sitting calmly in hiding. Gingerly, I scooped it up and set it{endif} on the end table and moved to press my ear to the room’s lone door. Beyond, I could hear the continuous thrumming base and the excited voice of a man that reminded me of the talking heads that narrate sports events, whilst analyzing it and giving you anecdotes about how things were in their glory days. Growing up, I had kind of enjoyed watching sports, because it meant that I got to spend time with my father. Unfortunately, living with The Asshole had soured that particular pastime.

Quietly, I grasped the knob and turned, finding it unlocked. Slowly, I eased the door open a crack and looked out. Beyond was another small, unfinished room with a couch, coffee table, and TV. Upon the couch sat a large black man hunched over and fiddling with something on the table.

I briefly considered rushing him while he was seated and distracted, but I wasn't confident that I could overpower him and obviously didn't have my gun. So, I watched as he finished his fiddling and brought a newly rolled joint to his mouth before lighting up. He took a deep pull and then let his head tilt back to rest on the back of the couch. He sat there, eyes shut and mouth agape, holding the smoke like some sort of volcano.

Seeing an opportunity, I swung my door open on mercifully silent hinges and, as quietly as possible, tiptoed into the room, aiming for the far door.

Through what I changed up to a mixture of luck and ****-induced haze, I made it to the far door. I placed my hand upon the knob and… found it locked.

“Ain't goin’ out dat way, sista,” came the reply from the man sitting on the couch, head still back and eyes still closed.