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Zero Conscience
by Mateo Zero

My name is Matt and I have a lot of social disorders. To name a few, let's first take a look at how I spend my time. I mostly stay home, antisocially watching my satellite television. And I have every single channel there is because I spend a lot of time viewing movies. The more channels you have, the more movies there are to choose from. Sure, I still watch some of my old favorite shows, including Simpsons reruns, Jeopardy, maybe an occasional Saturday Night Live or X-File, but mostly movies. I have over 400 channels to choose from. It costs me $69 a month, but it's worth it! Actually, I'm lying. It's not always worth it. In fact, there's hardly ever anything on until about 9 o'clock at night, where you can view soft porn till about 4:30 in the morning on Skinemax. But soft porn just doesn't do it for me. I need to see penetration or I can't spank it. It's just too embarrassing, even though I'm by myself. It's too silly. Anyway, back to the story.

In the day time I work, staring at a computer screen all day long, doing little things to advertise- ments. Then I go home, plop down on the leather couch that my cats have slowly destroyed, and flip on the big screen to see what's on or what I've missed since I've been gone during the day. Usually there are some good criminal investigations on Court TV, one of my new favorites. I watch and read everything I can on serial killers. It is a very unhealthy obsession to have and I enjoy it very much. This could be a disorder, and a very social one. For when I go places like public restrooms, or parking garages, all I can think of is...."What would Ted Bundy do to that girl over there getting into her car, alone at this hour?" Or "I need a dollar. I wonder if the guy sitting in the stall next to me has one. He is very vulnerable right now, taking a shit. What would it be like if Ed Kemper needed a dollar right now. Would he crawl under the door or just kick it open and start stabbing?"

When I do go out, I usually go to see bands in Hollywood. My personal favorite, the Melvins are always playing somewhere around there, so it gives me a chance to go out and try to be myself. But every time I go out, if something violent doesn't happen, I get bored and when I get bored I start pulling my hair out one by one and I try to think of something to destroy.

Before, when I would drink, I was very social, but I still wanted something violent happening at all times. If a fight started, I was happy. If one didn't start, I started one. Even if I was the one getting his face bashed in by some giant biker, I still felt happy and proud that I had done my job for the evening, and now I could go home with a good story to tell the grand kids. Right? Well, now I don't drink anymore because everybody tells me I'm gonna die, which is true. But live fast, die young, and leave a good lookin' corpse. That's how all the cool people go out. And I thought I was the epitimy of Coolness. But, I'm not because I'm too short. (5'5")

So, one time I went out and I brought my girlfriend and we were having a good time. After the show we were walking away to the car, passing along another line of people waiting for the next show to start. My friend Able grabs this chick's ass and I'm the only one who sees him do it, so I start laughing. Then the girl turns around and spits in my face. I continue to laugh, harder now, and proceeded to return the favor. Then out of left field, this big baldy sucker punches me in the lip. Now I'm starting to get excited as I grip my brass knuckles in my pocket, but a big black security guard breaks it up and makes me walk away. That got me a little pissed. My girlfriend said she didn't even see anything or she would have beaten that girl's ass for me. That would have been great. I'm always trying to get her to fight. When we go somewhere and someone she doesn't like is there, I egg her on all night. I still haven't seen her in action though. Able didn't even back me up, but he has a heart condition and he's a pussy. So, when we got to the car I pretended I was in the corner taking a piss, but I was actually setting the inside of a dumpster on fire. That sucker was engulfed in 30 secs. I jumped in the car and said, "Courtney, go."

"Why, why do we have to go?"
"Courtney, just go."
"But why? What did you do? Why do we have to.....OH MY GOD YOU BASTARD! WHAT DID YOU DO?"
"It was an accident! I'll tell you later baby, will you just drive?!?
"What if someone saw you? WHAT IF THEY SAW MY CAR?"
"Nobody was around, baby. If they saw your car it doesn't matter because you don't even have license plates. Your car is brand new and right now half the free world has a Honda Civic. Now can we please just fucking go before the cops get here, pretty please?"

She finally drove away, and nothing ever came of my little pyromania. Sure, something could have happened, but that's what's fun about these prolific acts of self indulgence. One night after a show we were at a construction site in Beverly Hills. It was late and I had to take a piss again. After I peed I saw the perfect opportunity for some fun. A lone port-a-potty sat on the very edge of a cliff, just a foot away from an 80 foot drop off. Well, I tipped it over and it went rolling. Shit was everywhere. It was so awesome.

So, what to do about this? I don't know. These are my uncontrollable urges that I think are hilarious and everybody else considers retarded and illegal. But that's just me. I am a demonizer and I live by that title. Tell your friends and warn them that If they are going somewhere with me, be prepared to run. Because I just might do something real stupid.

The majority of my friends are all fucked up and drunk all the time. Most of them smoke too much which makes them cough all day long and you can't carry a conversation with someone who is drunk and coughing redundantly, on a day to day basis. They used to think I was super cool though, because no matter what, they knew that if they were with yours truly, that eventually something would happen. Some called me Bellicose because usually I was the first to do anything if some confrontation occurred. Then the rest, seeing I was fighting or whatever, would soon jump-in or whatever. A lot of times though I got into fights with my good friends while I was drunk, and that made me upset, even after I called them up the next day, crying apologetically. Half the time though, I woke up with my pillow covered in blood and I would then start calling people asking them what the hell I did the night before. The results were sometimes funny, and then sometimes very painful and humiliating.

I had one friend that hated it when you knocked his hat off. So I was fucking with him, smacking him around, trying to provoke him to do something because the bar we were at was getting boring, and if I'm drunk and bored, something has to happen. So he said, "Mateo, you can hit me all you want to, just don't knock my hat off."

So I immediately knocked his hat off and he grabbed me by the hair and brought my face down to collide with his bent knee. I chipped a tooth, spit out some blood and started laughing. Then he began marching me up Main Street in a head lock for about 10 blocks. Meanwhile I was hitting him in the back of the head with my free arm, cutting his bald scalp open with my ring. I would shout obscenities between punching and gasping for air. I don't remember how that ended...

One time, on the way back from the bar, I threw a mug that I had just emptied into myself, across the street. (I stole the mug from the bar) I wasn't aiming at anything. There wasn't anything obstructing this projectile, that I knew of. I just wanted to hear some glass smashing because it calms me down. Unfortunately, there was an "old road dog" riding his bike at 2 in the morning and he ate shit when that mug hit him. I couldn't believe it! I threw the mug, saw it fly through the air, turned and waited for the glass to hit the pavement. Instead of a "SMASH", I heard, "Oh God! Crash! Boom! MY HEAD!!!" And then the final, "SMASH!" Well, that bum must have done something awful bad, because that night, I was his karma. If you believe in that sort of thing. I don't, but a lot of girls and hippies do.

So, now that I don't drink anymore, my friends don't hang with me because they don't trust people who don't drink. I think that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, but whatever. Now I feel boring and insignificant. Meanwhile, those friends are all suffering poverty and lack of self respect, not to mention their many ailments and everyday hangovers. But me, I was smart. I got out before my nose started looking like Bill Clinton's. Now I'm seeing a shrink and I'm on all types of medications that I can guarantee you aren't helping me or even making a difference. Maybe one day I'll be treated with the respect I deserve...

THE END?