Might as well start off strong.

The following is a story I've been working on, lemme know whatchoo think :)

THE THEORY OF EVIL-UTION
Last night probably shouldn’t have happened, and the consequences were yet to be fully understood. Sure Darwin’s left hand and jaw were a bit sore, but he couldn’t skirt the sinking feeling that physical discomfort was the least of his worries. What provoked his response yesterday was still a mystery but one thing was certain, regret wasn’t present in his mind.
“Dude deserved it,” he thought, further justifying his actions. In reviewing what seemed to be a random chain of events leading to a swollen cheek and some really sore knuckles, Darwin realized yet again that alcohol was the devil. “At least it wasn’t his devil for once,” he thought, glad that headache, nausea, and a lack of memory weren’t a part of today’s pain. It was bittersweet. Darwin would gladly trade a massive hangover for his current situation.

Sitting in the hotel bar overhearing some jackass talk way too openly about the shape of his penis, Darwin was beside himself. It was fitting he thought, that even now at 10am, someone was oblivious to the fact that they were a piece of shit.
“What the fuck am I doing?” Darwin mumbled under his breath, catching the ear of the offensive fat bastard who was now explaining to his buddy “What a slut Daphne was.”


“Are you talking to me?” Fat boy asked tensing, ready to throw down even this early in the day.
Darwin wanted desperately to stuff his fist through this jerk’s face, but he thought better of it and lowered his gaze, nodding his head side to side while apologizing. He remembered his father; always the calm pacifist telling him, “I named you Darwin son. Be reasonable, be rational, always do your best to keep yourself firmly in reality.” Darwin quietly finished his Eggs Benedict, the staple of his “healthy” lifestyle, drank down the last of his orange juice, paid the disheveled waiter and was on his way.

The weather severely disagreed with Darwin’s mood. It was about 80 and sunny, a few wispy, see-through clouds floating near the horizon. His mind however was filled with massive thunderheads and a torrential downpour. It wasn’t depression, more like a mental cloudiness, jumbled thoughts swirling around seemingly disconnected from one another.

He left the dingy little hotel, if you could even call it that, and headed towards Washington Boulevard in Venice, maybe an hour’s walk. Darwin figured that if he was gonna score, Venice was the place to be. “These fucking celebrities get vicodin by the bucketful, and I’ve gotta walk 5 miles to even smell it” he thought, looking down at his outstretched hand, the knuckles raw and beginning to swell. Today was not gonna be good.

Darwin thought back to last night. Why had he let himself go like that? Kicking the fuzzy sycamore seeds that littered the sidewalks of Los Angeles, he began to rethink his mental state. He’d gone from 0 to ass-kicker in less than a minute and it scared him. The guy definitely deserved it; no one gets physical with a woman, no matter what. But was it really up to Darwin to be the great protector, using violence to defend this woman he didn’t know and probably wouldn’t ever see again? He replayed the experience that had provoked him. The back of that asshole’s hand coming down hard on the small girl’s cheek, her little yelp as she crumpled under the weight of the blow. He wondered how she looked today. “She had a black eye for sure,” he thought. He remembered how small she was, and decided that what he’d done last night was indeed right thing to do. Darwin put it out of his mind. There was the other issue though, the one that had Darwin all stormy-minded and edgy this morning.

Lying on his side, blood flowing freely from his forehead and mouth, the man on the receiving end of Darwin’s assault yesterday had issued a rather ominous threat. “I know you, Darwin! Don’t forget I can get your ass whenever I want motherfucker!” the man had spat through blood-red teeth. Darwin hadn’t known the guy from last night; at least he didn’t think he did. He had to admit though; during the previous life in LA, booze hadn’t been particularly kind to his memory. Not even back a month and already he had a reason to look over his shoulder. “Who was that guy?” he wondered, trying to picture a face minus all the blood. Darwin couldn’t do it. He hadn’t even taken the time to get a good look at the prick before he’d laid into him. “Well, better to be despised than forgotten” he thought half-jokingly. It’s not like HE was the asshole of the situation. Darwin couldn’t help but smile and let out a satisfied sigh, the memory of the frat boys and co-eds cheering him as he’d calmly gathered his coat and left the bar.

Nearing Venice, Darwin began to notice the occasional pusher. They sure didn’t do much to disguise themselves; tank tops, gaudy jewelry, baggy pants that looked about ready to hit the ground. He wandered past a few that looked more like the pot and coke kinda dealers. Not what he was interested in, at least not today. No, Darwin was looking for the pharmaceutical guys. They had a slightly different style; just a bit more put together, cleaner maybe, their intelligence just a little higher and their pants not quite as low and for some reason they were almost always Latin. Yea they were drug dealers too, but they served a different clientele and had to conform to a higher standard of customer service.
Eyeing a light-skinned Latino boy slouched against the wall of a bodega Darwin hesitated. He was sporting black chinos slightly low on his waist, the bright white tank top so tight Darwin could clearly make out the years of push-ups. His head was freshly shaven, and his eyes showed a certain confidence well beyond his age and economic situation. Darwin approached.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Darwin asked as casually as possible.
“Whatcha need?”
“Short and to the point” Darwin thought. He liked that in a drug dealer. He didn’t want to be pals, and he didn’t waste time with small talk. He just wanted to sell, and Darwin just wanted to buy. It worked out nicely that way.
“You got vikes?” Darwin asked?
“How many you need?” he countered, not missing a beat.
“How much for 10?”
“500 milligrams are 3 bucks a piece, 750’s are 4.”
“Lemme get ten 750’s.” Darwin replied.
“Alright, meet me over there in 5 minutes” the drug dealer said, motioning towards the entrance of the Mansfield hotel across the street.
With that Darwin nodded and walked off, feeling the normal awkwardness from the illicit conversation he had had so many times before. It was normal he thought, to feel some trepidation when doing something illegal, and this was definitely something illegal. Looking down at his hand, he noticed it had begun to turn purple. He touched his cheek and wondered if it was the same color.