The Liberation Paradox

A Name and a Pot to Piss in

Dawn

Galaxy: Darklands (dwarf galaxy)

Cluster: Cable's End

Planet: Distortion

City: Harvest Junction (flotilla city)

The man woke up face-down on the cold, hard concrete of a trash-strewn alleyway behind some greasy spoon diner. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was completely naked. He was alive, and that was something, but he was also butt-naked in an alleyway.

Slowly, he raised himself to a sitting position, bare ass on the dirty concrete, and met the murky light of dawn under the planet's red giant sun. Although he was grateful just to be alive, the man couldn't escape the fact that last night had been a disaster. But the man was not one to dwell on the past. No sense dwelling on yesterday when today had its own challenges for him. Today, he had no money and no one he could implore for assistance. He had not even a shirt on his back nor a pot to piss in. He didn't even have a name, really.

Well, he had names. He had lots of names, actually. Unfortunately, he didn't have any documents for any of those aliases. He couldn't use "Sid Stone" again after last night's fiasco. He'd used that name since he'd first arrived on this planet, but he might end up dead if he tried to use it again. So whom should he be? He thought through the multitude of aliases he had at his disposal and finally came upon one that suited his mood that morning.

Danny Jake.

The old name came to him in a flash of inspiration. It suited his mood that morning perfectly. Danny Jake was an optimist and the man felt very optimistic about today. When you wake up butt naked in a dirty alley without even a name nor a pot to piss in, there's really nowhere to go but up. The man would almost certainly end his day better off than he was beginning it, so he would be Danny Jake. Danny Jake was an optimist.

He hadn't used the name Danny Jake for several years, not since he'd left the planet Promisedland. There had been a girl on Promisedland, a girl he'd genuinely cared about, but that was years ago now. Idly he wondered if she still missed him. He wondered if she was still mad at him. She probably didn't, and she probably was. Never mind all that now. The man was not one to dwell on the past.

So he would be Danny Jake again today. And why not? He didn't have any paperwork to suggest his name might be anything else.

As for not having a pot to piss in, Danny presently noticed an old biocurd tub on the ground next to the diner's dumpster. That'll do, he thought. And so he stood himself up and padded over to the biocurd tub. It had several cigarette butts in it. He guessed that the diner's staff or someone had been using it for an ashtray. Danny just shrugged and had his morning piss. And isn't that first morning piss really the best piss of the day?

So now Danny had a name and a pot to piss in. The day was looking up already. Danny Jake was an optimist. Of course, as any optimist knows, the moment you start to feel good, a hater is bound to come along and try scratch your groove.

Right on cue, a hater came along to do just that. "What the hell are ya supposed to be, some kind o' nancy, fuckin' nudist or something?" The stranger's words came from above Danny's head. From the raspy sound of the man's voice, Danny guessed about three packs a day.

Danny looked up and saw a late-middle-aged man in a stained, white t-shirt leaning out of a second story window. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Danny made no effort to hide his nakedness as he answered the man, "Fuck, no. I ain't no kinda nudist or nothin'. Just some poor bastard what had a bad night last night."

Danny was perfectly capable of speaking as eloquently or ineloquently as any situation demanded. This situation demanded the latter. In his experience, most people trusted him more if he spoke like they themselves did. Danny wasn't worthy of anyone's trust, but he knew how to get it and he knew how to profit from it.