There's a certain freedom in giving in.

It's hard for me to be social some days, because I'm so used to doing it my way.  When someone comes along, I subconsciously, I think, try to lose them, or just show them my real side.  Today I tried to bring ___ with me to the Y on a guest pass so we could swim and work out.  I didn't want to be around anyone—I had earlier stormed out of my shrink's office early cause I thought he was dumb and I just didn't want to talk to him anymore—but I thought it was important to get out of my head.  Last night, I was on the brink.  There's a certain freedom in giving up.  Sensations were stuck in my head all day, and prayer only thinly made them go away.  I told some people about it, the urge of impulse, and it felt like they stuck around longer than usual to talk to me.  I made plans with _____  for the Y the next day following a service commitment.  

When I reminded ____ about the guest pass, he said he didn't have his ID, yet I had told him about it yesterday.  I assured him it would be no problem, anyway.  I didn't want to keep talking to him.  I figured I could just lose him on the treadmill.  When we walked in and I told the clerks _____ didn't have his ID and they said it was policy and I said he could still come in and they said No, things weren't going my way.  I tried to talk them into it again, and Leslie said No, then I turned to the guy—he was black, with a goatee and glasses—and he repeated, It's just policy with the same tone.  I got angry.  Leslie was black, too, but her curly bleached hair—she hadn't responded to my jokes on another occasion so I figured she was dumb—her bleached hair stood out more than her blackness.  I stormed out of the front office and told my friend to follow me.  ____  followed me through the brush around the building and into the back entrance.  I walked towards another clerk—he wasn't black, so I figured he's a gay hipster—and when I tried to guise spite with a smile—he wouldn't know, he's dumb—I heard on his phone's intercom a warning about two guys trying to sneak in without—and he picked it up real quickly while we looked each other down.  My smile dropped and I stormed out of there and I told ____  to follow me.  _____ followed me into the brush and around the building and we were at the front again.

We walked towards my car, and as ____ sat down, I turned and walked back into the front office.  I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but cut off a prayer to speak in what turned out to be a nervous voice, Hey guys, we're going to get his ID... but we've been working out, and... my voice started quivering, I looked at the black guy, ignored Leslie, but I'm going to need you to hold on to my underwear.  I was anticipating a reaction, but the guy with the glasses said amicably, Yea, Sure and I froze.  I didn't know what to do, so I said Okay, and after a moment, I stormed out.

Inside the car, I held my keys, and told ____, hang on.  I went to the back of the car and opened the trunk for cover.  I wasn't going to let that guy get one over on me, not some guy that doesn't even have 20/20 vision.  I started removing my underwear from inside my pants.  A car passed by from my other side, and there were kids at the YMCA.  I took my shoes off, and shoved my hand down my pants; after I got my underwear a few inches down, my underwear got stuck below my knees and my legs were stuck in my pants.  I held my pants up with one hand, grabbed a pair of shorts and hobbled a few feet away to a secluded area, and started removing my underwear and trousers from behind the dumpster.  The Sun was angry that day.  I couldn't untangle my underwear from the inside of my pants and I was bare bottomed standing next to the dumptser.  I knew I was going to win this one.  I put on my gym shorts, then finally untangled my underwear out of my pants.  I didn't know if I was going to throw it at him or just hand it to him.  I walked back barefoot to the vehicle with my underwear slung over my shoulder.  An SUV passed by with the children in the backseat while I was putting my shoes back on.  I got back into the car and threw my crumpled pants and underwear into the backseat; and as I looked over to the passenger seat, Alan was staring at me.  Four islands of sweat were pouring down his face.