I had to move her body to get out.
I took the elevator down.
feeling rather good.
a good jaunty 4-floor ride down.
the elevator was kind of a cage-like contraption and smelled like old stockings, old gloves, old dustmops, but it gave me a feeling of security and power - somehow - and the wine rode all through me.
but then I got outside and had a change of mind.
I went to the liquor store.
bought 4 more bottles of wine and went back to my place and rode the elevator back up.
the same feeling of security and power.
I walked into my place.
Vicki was sitting in a chair crying.
I've come back to you, you lucky darling," I told her.
you bastard, you hit me.
YOU HIT ME!" "umm, I said, opening a new bottle.
and you give me any more shit and I'll hit you again." "YEAH!" she screamed, "YOU'D HIT ME BUT YOU WOULDN'T HAVE ENOUGH GUTS TO HIT A MAN!" "HELL NO!" I screamed back, "I WOULDN'T HIT A MAN! YOU THINK I'M CRAZY? WHAT'S THAT GOT TO DO WITH IT?" that settled her for a bit and we sat for a bit and we sat drinking down the waterglassfuls of wine, port.
then she started in on her abusive stuff again, mostly claiming I jacked off while she was asleep.
