+he crux -xx6... are you there god? it's me, margaret.
'its all about hiding when it comes to life. hiding from our fears, our destiny, and our student loans.' ~ dc9000
the evening was coming on like a rancid potato salad at the worst event you can think of. the whole story feels wrong. the whole tale a sad, sad sham and all is well in the city. nope, not even. the shit has hit the fan and we were all out of paper towels.
we got in my car and drove away from the spot. the evening lights drown us in the ominous sodium glow of a poor situation. a helpless victim of my own greed and sloth. in that nasty orange light i knew what i had to do. i had to fix this shit. i'd like it to be quick too. not only quick but as easy as possible. oh well. the times for being an observer, possibly the least involved in any of it, are over.
i gotta get gas. the big E on the gas gauge is giving me the stink eye.
the road swallowed us whole and poped us out in seal beach by the old wooden pier. in a cool lil hotel i knew about from years ago. better days under better circumstances, ya know. i miss'em real bad right about now.
*ding ding ~ ding ding* the gas station customer alert system sounds off.
'need help sir?'
'nah, i got it. i'll just use my card.'
'watch 'er she's a bit picky about the cards these days.'
'really? thanks, man.'
'a lil cold for this time of year huh?'
'it is, is'nt it? how's the surf?'
'oh its been nice. 2-5 and glassy. there's no wind in the mornings.'
'well, have a good night.'
'thanks man, i hope i do.' ...i actually did.
the hotel was around the corner. i parked in front of the room. the sea quietly roars in the distance. jess looks like an angel in the moon light. a drug addicted lil troublemaking shit of an angel, but an angel none the less. she feels light as a feather as i carry her back to the room. speed freaks are always the sveltest of the fashionaby thin.
i put her down on the bed in the darkened room and sat down in the chair opposite the open window. she squirmed around a bit on the bed before she truely passed out. i rolled a joint and lit it.
what the fuck? i thought to myself. why am i going out of my way for this chick? i guess i'm not. i'm doing it for the rest of us. or maybe just me. either way it had to be done. it was time to round up the posse and roll on out to mend this situation and put to bed the decade long moron-fest that was this gentleman's agreement.
since andy, lena, and brian were m.i.a. and jen was off in her life of ease and wealth, there were only two cats i could count on. the duo. tweedle dee and jeckle. the boys, mike and mario. i knew where to find them. they would be on the scene where ever that was. they are dj's. thats what they do.
time to get in the car again, grab an LA weekly, and hit the scene. as the seatbelt wrapped itself around me i wondered to mylself 'am i too old for this shit?'
listening to ))) un-mello gold
snl - Two Wild and Crazy Guys
The Dead Milkmen - Punk Rock Girl
Morbid Opera (old school florida p*nk) - Polyester Pigs