Dear Mark,
I know it doesn't matter to you, well... not anymore but Lanna won't make it. She's been sulking for a long time. She's almost as upset as when that old basset hound of hers, Ricardo died. She cried the first two days, then fell back into her work. Sewing, setting the print for the paper, cleaning the house, doing all the things that she normally does. Her tasks are dominated with a despondent air. She could make charcoal look like a light bulb her soul seems so dark. Of course she won't talk about things. I'm sure she'll stop by at some point to pay her respects. Maybe one day while walking the dogs.
As for me, well these things happen. They've happened before. They will happen again. Did I ever tell you about my boyhood pal, Micky? Micky and I would go stealing apples from the nearby orchard, candy from the store, we would nick his old man's girlie magazines. When we were twelve Micky and I went to the waterfront late at night. The wharf was deserted except for the boats that bobbed on the ocean water. He bravely pronounced that he could touch the anchor of one of the boats. He shrugged off his shirt and dove in. As he was coming up his head smacked the edge of one of the boats. The impact cracked his head open. I dove in and dragged him ashore. He wasn't breathing by the time I had gotten someone to help.
You lose friends. They die. At some point I'll die. A few people will mourn my death. I thought you'd be one of them.
I've been trying to keep myself busy. We're still putting out the paper, of course. We've recently got a few Italians to lend some help with the writing. Much of it is poetic calls to action. Destroy the State, The priests must rot, hack up the bureaucrats, and do it now! That's what it comes down to. Its beautiful though. My own writing is coming along. The newest addition of the paper will have a central article by me about capitalism. The essay depicts the changing structure of the economy. Capitalism has come a long way since the feudal mercantilism of the medieval days. Its international, and with the expansion of railroads, its becoming even easier to ship goods all over. Adam Smith would be happy, you can be sure that I am not.
This is a weak letter. Its filled with mundane things about my life. I find it hard to say something relevant. Do I write about my memories of you? Do I write about our first meeting in the gym halls? I was too old to be a boxer but loved the action. You were so awful when you came in. Your persistence paid though. Laughing our comrades would compare you to the Mexican in Jack London's short story. You did donate a little of your purse, not that much but enough to make us all laugh.
Its hard for me to figure out what to write. We'll write up an obituary for you in the paper. Perhaps something a little more thrilling. "Comrade Gunned Down by Faciscts," "Slaughtered by the State," something less saddening and disappointing than the actual events.
I'll put this in as we put the dirt in on top of you.
Sincerely,
Billy Boke
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Portrait Of A crappy Artist As Morrissey Fan
My friend Vi and I arrived a little after 6pm. There was already a line of fifty people when we got to the area outside of the Fillmore. We all stood a bit behind the venue entrance near the post office. A slightly bearded guy walked up and down the line nervously looking at the those who had tickets already.
"Tickets? Anyone got extra tickets? Tickets?" he said non stop.
"I have an extra one," said a guy in front of us.
"How much?"
"One hundred," the ticket holder replied.
"Shit. I don't have that much. I have to buy four tickets. I lost them... The show hasn't even sold out," the buyer said with anxiety in his eyes.
"Sorry but its a hundred dollars."
A few minutes later another person came by and the ticket holder got his hundred dollars. The guy in front of Vi and I went and got a taco, we held his place in line.
"Ah ha! One step closer to Morrissey," I exclaimed as he walked away. "Sucker." When he came back we let him back in line.
The minutes passed slowly as Vi and I talked about the upcoming K-1 Max (a world muay thai tournament). When the conversation petered out we quizzed each other, impressing each other with our Morrissey factoids. My ability to keep track of these things isn't that good. The only thing I remembered was that the guitarist was in the polecats (but that was only because Vi talked about it on Monday night).
We were let in at 7 o'clock and we quickly made our way to the front of the stage. Facing the stage itself we were one person behind the security gate on the left. Certainly a modest position but one we had to guard through out Kristeen Young's set. The crowd for the most part was pretty mellow and surprisingly I wasn't tossed about or smashed up against the gate. Then again Morrissey isn't “System of a Down,” or “Rage against the Machine.” The violence he invokes is a bit more sophisticated.
Kristeen Young musically is a cross between Bjork and Tori Amos. Like Bjork she has a penchant for unusual wardrobe. Last night she wore a dress that looked like it was made of paper dollies. Streaking down the right side was red ribbon with a small heart pinned on her chest. Her upper left shoulder was covered in plastic and her left hand looked like it was wrapped in medical tape. She's a talented musician but most people seemed to find her music vaguely irritating. When the crowd doesn't show proper enthusiasm she's prone to state clever witticisms or sarcastic comments. Its an admirable trait. Her set lasted about forty minutes.
After the stage was cleared the prelude videos came on. The videos began with a pompous French gent wooing women from around the world. The New York dolls were shown playing “Just looking for a kiss” and we got to see David Johansen's bare midriff as he bounced with punkish enthusiasm.
“Are you excited?” asked a young woman standing next to us.
“Yeah.” I replied.
“Me too. I am soooo excited.”
Morrissey came on stage around nine o'clock and immediately went into his set. I enjoyed the show last night much more than on Monday. The set list was better and the visceral experience of being right up front made things more exciting.
Towards the end of the show Morrissey came over and asked a couple skin heads how they afforded coming out to see him so often.
“I really can't say,” the skinhead replied with his cockney accent.
I thought it was silly that they couldn't just admit that they were drug dealers, or petty thugs. I could imagine them lurking in a dark alleyway across the street from an atm machine.
“One more mate and we can buy the tickets to see Morrissey,” the one in the polo would say.
“This cunt better have taken out more than a bill. I'd like to pick up that Cocksparrer album that that whore stole from me too when she left me. Ah fuck it, as long as we get to see Morrissey croon to us,” the other skin head thug would reply.
I'd brought a small stenciled portrait of Morrissey and attempted to give it to him through out the evening. I spent a fair amount of my time during the show attempting to bestow my gift to Morrissey yet I was denied. I imagine it can be quite taxing to have all these people giving you various rubbish. Early in the show he received an Oscar Wilde action figure. My jealousy smoldered for quite a bit. My picture was made with love and care, something you certainly can't buy for ten dollars at a comic book store. In the end my persistence paid off. He came over to stage left during 'First of the Gang to Die.' I reached out with the canvased piece of art yearning to lavish upon him my object of devotion.
“For me?” Morrissey mouthed with a respectful air.
I nodded dumbly and he took it from my hands. Morrissey looked at the stencil and then held it in front of his face as he continued to sing. After a bit he set it next to the action figure in front of the drum set. It toppled over during the song but I didn't care. The glory is in the giving, well that and having my artistic work being paraded in front of hundreds of people by a handsome devil. I was congratulated by the other fans around me for my tenacity. I smiled pensively for the rest of the show.
The show let out around 10:30 after 20 songs or so. I saw a few kids I knew from the bay area and talked to one woman about my upcoming fight. We got another copy of the Fillmore produced poster then Vi and I rode home contented.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Thoughts on "Where will it end"
A friend just recently asked me how I go about writing these short stories, I think "Where will it end" is the third or fourth. I don't ever plan the stories out. I usually have a vague idea about what I want to write about, maybe a scene or just an item. In "Where will it end" I wanted to write about a young kid working at a department store. Later I wanted to include a scene with the father. That's it.
I usually sit down when I have time and the desire and try to write about a page or so. It takes me about an hour or so. I don't get writer's block (knock on wood) as I feel I am "just practicing." I'm not too concerned with a poignant moral, nor aesthetics. I like to try to work on small points, descriptions of things, dialogue and having real, believable characters. While I am still just dicking around with my writing I still enjoy reading my stories. Its the kind of writing I like to read.
I'd like more feedback on my writing but I know how rare that is.
I usually sit down when I have time and the desire and try to write about a page or so. It takes me about an hour or so. I don't get writer's block (knock on wood) as I feel I am "just practicing." I'm not too concerned with a poignant moral, nor aesthetics. I like to try to work on small points, descriptions of things, dialogue and having real, believable characters. While I am still just dicking around with my writing I still enjoy reading my stories. Its the kind of writing I like to read.
I'd like more feedback on my writing but I know how rare that is.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Where will it end
The aisle is lit by fluorescent lights. The glowing bulbs are turned on at 9 in the morning and shut off at 10 in the evening. My skin seemed a little radiant under the light, but my skin is pale so I glow all the time. The children's section of the pharmacy needed to be reorganized again. At about 5 or 6 pm every night a bunch of little kids storm into the store grabbing every single cheap toy we have. Their parents get their various needs, diapers, advil, douches, milk, and cheap wonder bread, before heading home for dinner. After the little kids have torn the store apart I'm set to work facing product. I spend an hour lining up all the products on the shelves. The diapers must be straightened, the advil must be flush against the shelf, the douches must be dusted, the milk must be restocked, and the old wonder bread pulled off the shelf. I checked the time and cursed myself. The key to these service jobs is to somehow beat the clock. We all have our ways. I try to ignore it, the girl at the cash register, Rachel, in between customers writes poetry on scrap receipts, and Billy, the other stock boy, he pours forth his soul into his labor. He meticulously organizes the diapers, alphabetizes the advil, dusts, and redusts the douches, and keeps careful track of the stock being placed on the shelf.
The thing about living in a rural town is that you have to drive everywhere. My cousin said that LA is the same, but the distances are smaller and the traffic greater. Either way the neccissity for an automobile remains the same, especially in the cold, snowy winters. My father is a carpenter, my mother is a front desk manager at the town's best western (that's the classy chain motel at the top of the hill). Neither of them make much money, and they're split up so I'm forced to take care of some of my own necessities. My father worked on a porch addition on the side during the summer so he could front me money to buy a car.
"Now that you have a car you can get a job," my father said to me.
"Thanks Dad, I'll repay you, I swear," I had promised.
It took me two weeks to find this job. I applied for a position working at the motel, but they didn't need anyone and Mother never really liked having me underfoot. I thought about trying to do some construction like my father but I didn't want to break my back like the old man. I applied at the video store, the art store, the grocery store, burger king's, mcdonald's... I even got up the nerve to walk into the local bar by the town square to see if I could get a job bussing tables or barbacking.
As the clock came closer and closer to ten o'clock I felt more and more bound to the store. Time seemed to slow as my release came near. Minutes became hours, seconds minutes. When the manager finally let me go, a wave of relaxation swept through my body.
"Hey Michael what are you doing tonight," Rachel asked me.
"Uh, I guess I was going to stop by my friend Tom's for a little while and then I was going home. I have a twelve o'clock curfew," I replied.
"Do you think you could give me a ride home?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess that wouldn't be a problem."
"Thanks. I'll just be a minute. Let me grab my coat."
"Okay I'll be out front."
I stood outside of the store peering out into the darkness. The fall nights were getting darker sooner and at this time of night it was pitch black. The advantage of the dark was that the stars were out more clearly. My uncle had taught me all the constellations when I was younger. I could accurately identify the big dipper, the little dipper, mars, venus, and a couple other planets. I looked up and could see the light white mar across the sky that was the milky way. A cold wind blew and I tightened my coat around me.
Rachel had been asking me for rides home for the past few weeks. She didn't live far away and we would talk for a little while on the ride back to her house about school, about the manager at work, about Billy, and about the woes of or poor skin. Rachel usually made me listen to various mopey music on the way back to her house. I'd grown to having ambiguous feelings about Morrissey, The Smiths, Joy Division, and The Cure. I preferred Cocksparrer and the Buzzcocks so much more.
"Last night I saw the most interesting movie," Rachel said as she stepped out of the store and towards my car. "It was all about Tony Wilson. Do you know who he is?"
"Isn't he a freshman at school?"
"No, not that Tony Wilson," Rachel gave a small giggle and then went on. "This Tony Wilson built a night club in Manchester London called the Hacienda. He was single handily responsible for the rise of Joy Division, the Happy Mondays, he even televised the Sex Pistols."
"I like the Sex Pistols."
We got in the car and I pulled out of the parking lot. Rachel's house was about a ten minute drive out of my way but I had nowhere to go. Tom and I would spend the next hour or two smoking pot and playing Grand Theft Auto or some other video game until I had to go home. I had school in the morning and Tom would have to get up at noon to smoke more pot and play more video games. Tom had dropped out of school last year and had recently gotten his GED. He'd begun taking community college classes which he said were as dumb as high school. His mother had been pressuring him to do something with his time and he gave way after weeks of nagging.
"The movie is so great. You get to see live performances of Joy Division. I almost cried. I watched it twice already and I just got it in from netflix last night. I think I might watch it again tonight before I go to bed..." Rachel's gaze drifted off into space. She's probably thinking of twiggy english boys dancing around to sappy love songs I mused.
"I really appreciate you giving me these rides. My mother hates picking me up. All she ever does is sit in the house and watch soap opera reruns. She tapes them and the watches them later in the evening. I hate that we have Tivo. She comes home from work and if I'm lucky makes macaroni and cheese with hot dogs for dinner. I hate the taste of boxed cheese now, I think when I move out, when I graduate, when I'm all done with school I'll never eat boxed food again."
"Yeah I hate that shit, even with velveeta cheese or something on it."
"Oh I'm so glad you understand how I feel, it seems so rare.
We pulled into the drive way as Morrissey was mid way through another ambiguous love song. The ranch style house had a one car garage on the east side. Further east was another almost identical house. To the west was a vast field of corn. In the spring Rachel complained about the smell of manure from the field drifting into her house. I sat with my hands on the steering wheel staring at her garage door, it was brown, but in the dark it looked almost black. Through a window in the western part of the house came the glow of a television. Rachel coughed lightly. I turned my head to face her. She was looking down at her shoes.
"Do you want to come in? Last week I got my older cousin to buy me a bottle of wine and I haven't opened it yet. Its just some cheap merlot. Its better than carlos rossi... You drink wine don't you? I bet you don't. You look like a guy who just drinks beer all the time. You drink, like, PBR, or Hams or some other hip thing like that right? I bet my mother is passed out now, its not even eleven and she'll be passed out in front of the tv in her room the day's soap operas running. I mean if you don't want to you don't have to, it just seems like it might be nice. Maybe we could watch that Tony Wilson Movie, or have you ever seen "Sixteen Candles." Its the best movie ever, well next to Twenty-Four Hour Party people..." she looked nervously at me and then at the door. "Well, I guess I'm gonna go. Thank you for the ride again. When are you working next? Well I'll probably see you at school in the morning."
"I'll come in. I've never had merlot before. Does it stain your teeth?"
"We'll see won't we," she replied giggling.
I got out of the car and the brisk night air brushed against my face. My skin was soon covered in goose bumps. I looked up at the night sky and noted Orion. My uncle told me that in some regions where the seasons weren't so divided knowing the constellations was away of determining the seasons. With a knowledge of the seasons the farmers were able to plant at opportune times. When another constellation showed up in the sky the farmers knew that they had to reap their crops.
"I'll unlock the front door and then let you in through the garage door on the side." Rachel scurried up to the front door, fumbled with her keys for a moment and then quickly came out on the east side of the house. "Come on in. You've never been here have you? I don't really invite that many people over. Sometimes my cousins are here, when they're in town and for like dropping by, but really that's not that often. Most of the family has drifted apart ever since my grandmother died. She was the one who kept the family tied together. Everyone in the family thought she was crazy but she really kept us close. My older cousin, Rebecca, she was the one who bought the wine for me, she said that isn't anything quite like a common enemy, or common burden to keep people together. Isn't that clever? She's in college, a state school near the city. Well here it is, this is my room. You can have a seat wherever, on the bed, or on the floor, really wherever. I'll be right back I'm going to grab the bottle opener and then we can watch a movie or something. Okay I'll be right back."
Her room was neat but empty feeling. A television set resided in the corner of the room next to a small writing desk. I moved over to inspect the desk and saw several poetry books including Percy Shelly's "Promethus Unbound." Her bed was covered by a white quilt that matched the drapes. The room was marked only slightly by feminity. On her dresser resided a few hairclips and a very worn looking copy of Elle magazine. A picture of Morrissey decorated the walls.
"I don't have any wine glasses, and drinking straight out of the bottle is pretty ghetto. Anyways I got these two coffee cups from the kitchen. Which would you like? 'Gone fishin' or 'You should see me when I'm on the Rag?' My preference is for the one about PMS. My Aunt gave it to my mother as a gag gift for her birthday. When my parents split up, my father called my mother 'The queen bitch of the Universe.' She slapped him and then cried for two days. When my aunt gave her this mug she hid it in the back of the cupboard. I like to drink wine from it because it reminds me of how my mother isn't some nine to fiver who falls asleep in front of soap operas but rather is someone who can at least make someone mad."
"I guess I'll take 'Gone Fishin.'"
"Good choice, although I guess you didn't really have too much of a choice. Anyways do you want to watch that movie. Or maybe we could listen to some records. I have the collected works of Joy Division. Its a four cd set that I got from the mall last week..."
Rachel kept talking but I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. Instead I stared at the Morrissey poster. Morrissey's youthful face is turned upwards. The shadow of his chin covers his chest. His red shirt contrasts with the blue background. He looks angelic. I took a big gulp of my wine. Its bitter and leaves a funny after taste. I don't drink much wine. One time Tom and I got pretty shitfaced off of boxed wine. I think we were playing Halo that night. His mother had had a small dinner party and we drank the left over wine. The next day hung over as shit Tom and I got yelled at. Tom said that he had to listen to his mother whine about how awful of a child was for a week. Whenever I go over there I always hear her complain about Tom so I don't really see what the big deal is.
"So what will it be? New Order? Joy Division? The Happy Mondays?" Rachel said. She was nervously tapping her front while diddling with her cd player. "I wish they would pay us a little more at work. I'm saving up for college but if I got an extra dollar or two per hour I could buy an ipod already. Its so stupid that we get minimum wage. Actually excuse me, we get $6 per hour, a quarter more than minimum wage. If I'm lucky I'll get an extra dime an hour in a month or two after my next evaluation. Hopefully Mr. Brokenberg won't try to hit on me during the evaluation. One of the girls in the pharmacy said that he asked her out like 5 times when she was doing her 90 day review. He is so fucking gross. I bet he has more hair on his back than on his head."
"He does seem like a pretty big loser. I don't understand why he drives from Albany to our shit hole town. You'd think that he could get a better job in Albany."
"He's also been working at the store for like a million years. How long have you worked there? I've been there nine months now, god what a fucking long nine months."
"I think its been eleven months, almost a year now."
"Oh god I've completely forgotten the music. Well if you have no objections I'm putting on New Order. Its good for the ambiance. Ambiance is an SAT word, that's what my english teacher Mr. Tulin said. Whenever someone says a word with more than two syllables its an 'SAT word.' Its a good thing I learned all this vocabulary, it helped me score well on the SAT. Now I can go to a decent college and not get stuck in this town. I don't know where I want to go yet. My mother doesn't really have the money to support me anywhere that's private. I want to go towards the city I think. Maybe I'll go to NYU. That will be soooo expensive though. I think I'm a cosmopolitan girl though. I read every issue of cosmo when it comes out. Sometimes I reread it when its slow at the store. Shit I'm babbling again. What are you going to do when you get out of school?"
Rachel looked at me and and then looked away. She took a long drink from her cup and then looked at the bottle nervously. Taking it she pulled off the cork and refilled her cup. My cup was empty as well. I'd been taking drinks from it during her soliloquy. Soliloquy that's an SAT word I thought to myself. She poured some wine into my cup. We'd already gone through half a bottle already. My head felt a little light. I'd have to stay here for a while if I was going to try and drive home. I looked at the clock on her stereo. It said 10:45. I could probably be okay to drive around one in the morning. The old man would be asleep already. He gave me a curfew but doesn't strictly enforce it. He probably gave it to me because one of the other guys on the crew gave their kid a curfew and so it seemed normal to give me one.
"I don't know what I want to do after school," I said after taking another drink from my cup. I felt drunk. "I don't want to stay here, in this town. I don't want to end up like my old man, breaking my back everyday doing construction. Going to college sounds like an alright idea. Most people don't do anything with their degrees though."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Rachel agreed. She nodded her head with an excessive vigor. She must be drunk I thought. "I was out eating at this restaurant with my cousin in Albany. She's so nice, my cousin. Anyways the waitress went to University with my cousin. They talked about how they couldn't get jobs after graduating. The waitress laughed about how she was '40,000 in the hole to that bitch Sallie Mae for a piece of paper that would ensure her working in this crappy restaurant for another five years.' Going to school is a way out of here though. Even if its not far, where I end up going to school, at least its not here."
"Yeah anywhere but here."
Getting up from the floor where we'd been sitting cross legged Rachel went to her bed. She sat down and leaned against the wall. She patted the bed beside her. I got up and sat next to her.
"You like girls don't you?"
"Uh, yeah, why?"
"I don't know. I guess I was just wondering."
I stared at the Morrissey picture again. I followed his eyes up into the corner of the room. I thought I could make out a small cobweb. I wondered if that's what he was looking at. Rachel put down her cup on her bedstand and back against the wall. I looked at the clock it was 12:15. I still felt drunk. Rachel put her hand on mine and then leaned her head on my shoulder. I could smell her. She smelled like shampoo, not the cheap anti-dandruff shit that my father got but a more scented kind. I wondered if they ground up flowers for the shampoo. Her breath evened out and slowed down. I moved my hand a little and nothing happened. I was pretty sure she had passed out. I looked at the clock and willed myself to wake up at one am as I sank down onto her bed. As my body shifted horizontally Rachel's body followed.
My eyes hurt when they opened. The contacts were new and I hadn't gotten used to falling asleep with them on. Mentally chastising myself, my eyes looked over to my cell phone. 1:30am.
"Shit."
Rachel grumbled a little. She had stripped down to her underwear at some point. I looked at her body. I'd never thought I'd see her so naked. She rolled over on the bed. With a little momentum I got up. The short note that I wrote on a receipt I had in my wallet was sparse.
"Sorry had to go. See you tomorrow at school, or work."
I grabbed my cell phone and hurried out the door. I never got any calls on the damn thing but my mother had got it for me. It was on her plan. She said that every respectable kid these days had a cell phone. The only times I ever talked to her were when she was stuck in traffic and rang me up.
My dad would be pissed if he caught me up. Pissed but wouldn't do anything. The old man would be asleep anyways. It was Thursday and he'd have to finish up his work week by going in early. As my car started up and pulled out the driveway my eyes caught the light in Rachel's mother's room. Still watching soaps.
My eyes started to get a little water on the drive home. I'd saved for a few months to start getting contacts. They made me look less dorky and I was able to take a punch in the face without major damage to my ego from my glasses getting broken. I didn't have much trouble with bullies in school. I was too anti-social to be bothered by them but I still liked the thought of not having anymore of my glasses broken.
Before I could get to my bedroom I'd have to walk through the den. The lights were in the living room. My old man was sitting in front of the television watching a light night HBO movie. It looked like some Vin Deisel sci fi flick. He grunted as I walked in.
"You're late. You're curfew is at 12."
"Yeah, uh Sorry," I said. I looked around the room. He had an open twelve pack of cheap beer sitting next to him. "What are you doing up this late?"
He lifted up his right arm. His hand was bandaged. I sighed.
"Fucking guard on the saw broke off while I was working on it. Piece of shit machine damn near ate my hand. Got sent to the hospital. Stitched up my hand and here I am. Probably get workman's comp for a while. The crew wasn't that big and the guy's insurance probably won't go that far... Try not to think of it for too long."
"I'm sorry, Dad."
"Yeah, me too. Looks like the diet might be back to macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, instead of our special taco night." He chuckled slightly. After a moment he looked off to the side of the room and finished off his beer. He leaned over in his chair and grabbed another bear. He cracked it open. The hiss of the beer sounded so much louder than the screaming gunfire from the television.
"So where were you tonight? Hanging out with Tommy again?"
"No. I dropped this girl from work off. We watched a movie. It went later than I thought. I thought you'd be asleep by the time I got home so I didn't want to wake you with a call."
"You didn't fuck her did you? Better use a condom. Don't be a dumb ass like your father. Knock some girl up, marry her cause she's got a kid on the way and find out a year later that well.... you know the story."
"Uh, no we didn't do anything." I shuffled through the den moving towards my bedroom.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight dad."
I went to the bathroom and took out my contacts. They made a slight sucking noise as I pulled them off. I rubbed my eyes and put on my glasses. I brushed my teeth and flossed then went into my room. After pulling off my clothes I laid down and went to sleep.
The thing about living in a rural town is that you have to drive everywhere. My cousin said that LA is the same, but the distances are smaller and the traffic greater. Either way the neccissity for an automobile remains the same, especially in the cold, snowy winters. My father is a carpenter, my mother is a front desk manager at the town's best western (that's the classy chain motel at the top of the hill). Neither of them make much money, and they're split up so I'm forced to take care of some of my own necessities. My father worked on a porch addition on the side during the summer so he could front me money to buy a car.
"Now that you have a car you can get a job," my father said to me.
"Thanks Dad, I'll repay you, I swear," I had promised.
It took me two weeks to find this job. I applied for a position working at the motel, but they didn't need anyone and Mother never really liked having me underfoot. I thought about trying to do some construction like my father but I didn't want to break my back like the old man. I applied at the video store, the art store, the grocery store, burger king's, mcdonald's... I even got up the nerve to walk into the local bar by the town square to see if I could get a job bussing tables or barbacking.
As the clock came closer and closer to ten o'clock I felt more and more bound to the store. Time seemed to slow as my release came near. Minutes became hours, seconds minutes. When the manager finally let me go, a wave of relaxation swept through my body.
"Hey Michael what are you doing tonight," Rachel asked me.
"Uh, I guess I was going to stop by my friend Tom's for a little while and then I was going home. I have a twelve o'clock curfew," I replied.
"Do you think you could give me a ride home?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess that wouldn't be a problem."
"Thanks. I'll just be a minute. Let me grab my coat."
"Okay I'll be out front."
I stood outside of the store peering out into the darkness. The fall nights were getting darker sooner and at this time of night it was pitch black. The advantage of the dark was that the stars were out more clearly. My uncle had taught me all the constellations when I was younger. I could accurately identify the big dipper, the little dipper, mars, venus, and a couple other planets. I looked up and could see the light white mar across the sky that was the milky way. A cold wind blew and I tightened my coat around me.
Rachel had been asking me for rides home for the past few weeks. She didn't live far away and we would talk for a little while on the ride back to her house about school, about the manager at work, about Billy, and about the woes of or poor skin. Rachel usually made me listen to various mopey music on the way back to her house. I'd grown to having ambiguous feelings about Morrissey, The Smiths, Joy Division, and The Cure. I preferred Cocksparrer and the Buzzcocks so much more.
"Last night I saw the most interesting movie," Rachel said as she stepped out of the store and towards my car. "It was all about Tony Wilson. Do you know who he is?"
"Isn't he a freshman at school?"
"No, not that Tony Wilson," Rachel gave a small giggle and then went on. "This Tony Wilson built a night club in Manchester London called the Hacienda. He was single handily responsible for the rise of Joy Division, the Happy Mondays, he even televised the Sex Pistols."
"I like the Sex Pistols."
We got in the car and I pulled out of the parking lot. Rachel's house was about a ten minute drive out of my way but I had nowhere to go. Tom and I would spend the next hour or two smoking pot and playing Grand Theft Auto or some other video game until I had to go home. I had school in the morning and Tom would have to get up at noon to smoke more pot and play more video games. Tom had dropped out of school last year and had recently gotten his GED. He'd begun taking community college classes which he said were as dumb as high school. His mother had been pressuring him to do something with his time and he gave way after weeks of nagging.
"The movie is so great. You get to see live performances of Joy Division. I almost cried. I watched it twice already and I just got it in from netflix last night. I think I might watch it again tonight before I go to bed..." Rachel's gaze drifted off into space. She's probably thinking of twiggy english boys dancing around to sappy love songs I mused.
"I really appreciate you giving me these rides. My mother hates picking me up. All she ever does is sit in the house and watch soap opera reruns. She tapes them and the watches them later in the evening. I hate that we have Tivo. She comes home from work and if I'm lucky makes macaroni and cheese with hot dogs for dinner. I hate the taste of boxed cheese now, I think when I move out, when I graduate, when I'm all done with school I'll never eat boxed food again."
"Yeah I hate that shit, even with velveeta cheese or something on it."
"Oh I'm so glad you understand how I feel, it seems so rare.
We pulled into the drive way as Morrissey was mid way through another ambiguous love song. The ranch style house had a one car garage on the east side. Further east was another almost identical house. To the west was a vast field of corn. In the spring Rachel complained about the smell of manure from the field drifting into her house. I sat with my hands on the steering wheel staring at her garage door, it was brown, but in the dark it looked almost black. Through a window in the western part of the house came the glow of a television. Rachel coughed lightly. I turned my head to face her. She was looking down at her shoes.
"Do you want to come in? Last week I got my older cousin to buy me a bottle of wine and I haven't opened it yet. Its just some cheap merlot. Its better than carlos rossi... You drink wine don't you? I bet you don't. You look like a guy who just drinks beer all the time. You drink, like, PBR, or Hams or some other hip thing like that right? I bet my mother is passed out now, its not even eleven and she'll be passed out in front of the tv in her room the day's soap operas running. I mean if you don't want to you don't have to, it just seems like it might be nice. Maybe we could watch that Tony Wilson Movie, or have you ever seen "Sixteen Candles." Its the best movie ever, well next to Twenty-Four Hour Party people..." she looked nervously at me and then at the door. "Well, I guess I'm gonna go. Thank you for the ride again. When are you working next? Well I'll probably see you at school in the morning."
"I'll come in. I've never had merlot before. Does it stain your teeth?"
"We'll see won't we," she replied giggling.
I got out of the car and the brisk night air brushed against my face. My skin was soon covered in goose bumps. I looked up at the night sky and noted Orion. My uncle told me that in some regions where the seasons weren't so divided knowing the constellations was away of determining the seasons. With a knowledge of the seasons the farmers were able to plant at opportune times. When another constellation showed up in the sky the farmers knew that they had to reap their crops.
"I'll unlock the front door and then let you in through the garage door on the side." Rachel scurried up to the front door, fumbled with her keys for a moment and then quickly came out on the east side of the house. "Come on in. You've never been here have you? I don't really invite that many people over. Sometimes my cousins are here, when they're in town and for like dropping by, but really that's not that often. Most of the family has drifted apart ever since my grandmother died. She was the one who kept the family tied together. Everyone in the family thought she was crazy but she really kept us close. My older cousin, Rebecca, she was the one who bought the wine for me, she said that isn't anything quite like a common enemy, or common burden to keep people together. Isn't that clever? She's in college, a state school near the city. Well here it is, this is my room. You can have a seat wherever, on the bed, or on the floor, really wherever. I'll be right back I'm going to grab the bottle opener and then we can watch a movie or something. Okay I'll be right back."
Her room was neat but empty feeling. A television set resided in the corner of the room next to a small writing desk. I moved over to inspect the desk and saw several poetry books including Percy Shelly's "Promethus Unbound." Her bed was covered by a white quilt that matched the drapes. The room was marked only slightly by feminity. On her dresser resided a few hairclips and a very worn looking copy of Elle magazine. A picture of Morrissey decorated the walls.
"I don't have any wine glasses, and drinking straight out of the bottle is pretty ghetto. Anyways I got these two coffee cups from the kitchen. Which would you like? 'Gone fishin' or 'You should see me when I'm on the Rag?' My preference is for the one about PMS. My Aunt gave it to my mother as a gag gift for her birthday. When my parents split up, my father called my mother 'The queen bitch of the Universe.' She slapped him and then cried for two days. When my aunt gave her this mug she hid it in the back of the cupboard. I like to drink wine from it because it reminds me of how my mother isn't some nine to fiver who falls asleep in front of soap operas but rather is someone who can at least make someone mad."
"I guess I'll take 'Gone Fishin.'"
"Good choice, although I guess you didn't really have too much of a choice. Anyways do you want to watch that movie. Or maybe we could listen to some records. I have the collected works of Joy Division. Its a four cd set that I got from the mall last week..."
Rachel kept talking but I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. Instead I stared at the Morrissey poster. Morrissey's youthful face is turned upwards. The shadow of his chin covers his chest. His red shirt contrasts with the blue background. He looks angelic. I took a big gulp of my wine. Its bitter and leaves a funny after taste. I don't drink much wine. One time Tom and I got pretty shitfaced off of boxed wine. I think we were playing Halo that night. His mother had had a small dinner party and we drank the left over wine. The next day hung over as shit Tom and I got yelled at. Tom said that he had to listen to his mother whine about how awful of a child was for a week. Whenever I go over there I always hear her complain about Tom so I don't really see what the big deal is.
"So what will it be? New Order? Joy Division? The Happy Mondays?" Rachel said. She was nervously tapping her front while diddling with her cd player. "I wish they would pay us a little more at work. I'm saving up for college but if I got an extra dollar or two per hour I could buy an ipod already. Its so stupid that we get minimum wage. Actually excuse me, we get $6 per hour, a quarter more than minimum wage. If I'm lucky I'll get an extra dime an hour in a month or two after my next evaluation. Hopefully Mr. Brokenberg won't try to hit on me during the evaluation. One of the girls in the pharmacy said that he asked her out like 5 times when she was doing her 90 day review. He is so fucking gross. I bet he has more hair on his back than on his head."
"He does seem like a pretty big loser. I don't understand why he drives from Albany to our shit hole town. You'd think that he could get a better job in Albany."
"He's also been working at the store for like a million years. How long have you worked there? I've been there nine months now, god what a fucking long nine months."
"I think its been eleven months, almost a year now."
"Oh god I've completely forgotten the music. Well if you have no objections I'm putting on New Order. Its good for the ambiance. Ambiance is an SAT word, that's what my english teacher Mr. Tulin said. Whenever someone says a word with more than two syllables its an 'SAT word.' Its a good thing I learned all this vocabulary, it helped me score well on the SAT. Now I can go to a decent college and not get stuck in this town. I don't know where I want to go yet. My mother doesn't really have the money to support me anywhere that's private. I want to go towards the city I think. Maybe I'll go to NYU. That will be soooo expensive though. I think I'm a cosmopolitan girl though. I read every issue of cosmo when it comes out. Sometimes I reread it when its slow at the store. Shit I'm babbling again. What are you going to do when you get out of school?"
Rachel looked at me and and then looked away. She took a long drink from her cup and then looked at the bottle nervously. Taking it she pulled off the cork and refilled her cup. My cup was empty as well. I'd been taking drinks from it during her soliloquy. Soliloquy that's an SAT word I thought to myself. She poured some wine into my cup. We'd already gone through half a bottle already. My head felt a little light. I'd have to stay here for a while if I was going to try and drive home. I looked at the clock on her stereo. It said 10:45. I could probably be okay to drive around one in the morning. The old man would be asleep already. He gave me a curfew but doesn't strictly enforce it. He probably gave it to me because one of the other guys on the crew gave their kid a curfew and so it seemed normal to give me one.
"I don't know what I want to do after school," I said after taking another drink from my cup. I felt drunk. "I don't want to stay here, in this town. I don't want to end up like my old man, breaking my back everyday doing construction. Going to college sounds like an alright idea. Most people don't do anything with their degrees though."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Rachel agreed. She nodded her head with an excessive vigor. She must be drunk I thought. "I was out eating at this restaurant with my cousin in Albany. She's so nice, my cousin. Anyways the waitress went to University with my cousin. They talked about how they couldn't get jobs after graduating. The waitress laughed about how she was '40,000 in the hole to that bitch Sallie Mae for a piece of paper that would ensure her working in this crappy restaurant for another five years.' Going to school is a way out of here though. Even if its not far, where I end up going to school, at least its not here."
"Yeah anywhere but here."
Getting up from the floor where we'd been sitting cross legged Rachel went to her bed. She sat down and leaned against the wall. She patted the bed beside her. I got up and sat next to her.
"You like girls don't you?"
"Uh, yeah, why?"
"I don't know. I guess I was just wondering."
I stared at the Morrissey picture again. I followed his eyes up into the corner of the room. I thought I could make out a small cobweb. I wondered if that's what he was looking at. Rachel put down her cup on her bedstand and back against the wall. I looked at the clock it was 12:15. I still felt drunk. Rachel put her hand on mine and then leaned her head on my shoulder. I could smell her. She smelled like shampoo, not the cheap anti-dandruff shit that my father got but a more scented kind. I wondered if they ground up flowers for the shampoo. Her breath evened out and slowed down. I moved my hand a little and nothing happened. I was pretty sure she had passed out. I looked at the clock and willed myself to wake up at one am as I sank down onto her bed. As my body shifted horizontally Rachel's body followed.
My eyes hurt when they opened. The contacts were new and I hadn't gotten used to falling asleep with them on. Mentally chastising myself, my eyes looked over to my cell phone. 1:30am.
"Shit."
Rachel grumbled a little. She had stripped down to her underwear at some point. I looked at her body. I'd never thought I'd see her so naked. She rolled over on the bed. With a little momentum I got up. The short note that I wrote on a receipt I had in my wallet was sparse.
"Sorry had to go. See you tomorrow at school, or work."
I grabbed my cell phone and hurried out the door. I never got any calls on the damn thing but my mother had got it for me. It was on her plan. She said that every respectable kid these days had a cell phone. The only times I ever talked to her were when she was stuck in traffic and rang me up.
My dad would be pissed if he caught me up. Pissed but wouldn't do anything. The old man would be asleep anyways. It was Thursday and he'd have to finish up his work week by going in early. As my car started up and pulled out the driveway my eyes caught the light in Rachel's mother's room. Still watching soaps.
My eyes started to get a little water on the drive home. I'd saved for a few months to start getting contacts. They made me look less dorky and I was able to take a punch in the face without major damage to my ego from my glasses getting broken. I didn't have much trouble with bullies in school. I was too anti-social to be bothered by them but I still liked the thought of not having anymore of my glasses broken.
Before I could get to my bedroom I'd have to walk through the den. The lights were in the living room. My old man was sitting in front of the television watching a light night HBO movie. It looked like some Vin Deisel sci fi flick. He grunted as I walked in.
"You're late. You're curfew is at 12."
"Yeah, uh Sorry," I said. I looked around the room. He had an open twelve pack of cheap beer sitting next to him. "What are you doing up this late?"
He lifted up his right arm. His hand was bandaged. I sighed.
"Fucking guard on the saw broke off while I was working on it. Piece of shit machine damn near ate my hand. Got sent to the hospital. Stitched up my hand and here I am. Probably get workman's comp for a while. The crew wasn't that big and the guy's insurance probably won't go that far... Try not to think of it for too long."
"I'm sorry, Dad."
"Yeah, me too. Looks like the diet might be back to macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, instead of our special taco night." He chuckled slightly. After a moment he looked off to the side of the room and finished off his beer. He leaned over in his chair and grabbed another bear. He cracked it open. The hiss of the beer sounded so much louder than the screaming gunfire from the television.
"So where were you tonight? Hanging out with Tommy again?"
"No. I dropped this girl from work off. We watched a movie. It went later than I thought. I thought you'd be asleep by the time I got home so I didn't want to wake you with a call."
"You didn't fuck her did you? Better use a condom. Don't be a dumb ass like your father. Knock some girl up, marry her cause she's got a kid on the way and find out a year later that well.... you know the story."
"Uh, no we didn't do anything." I shuffled through the den moving towards my bedroom.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight dad."
I went to the bathroom and took out my contacts. They made a slight sucking noise as I pulled them off. I rubbed my eyes and put on my glasses. I brushed my teeth and flossed then went into my room. After pulling off my clothes I laid down and went to sleep.
Where will it end pt. 5
My eyes hurt when they opened. The contacts were new and I hadn't gotten used to falling asleep with them on. Mentally chastising myself, my eyes looked over to my cell phone. 1:30am.
"Shit."
Rachel grumbled a little. She had stripped down to her underwear at some point. I looked at her body. I'd never thought I'd see her so naked. She rolled over on the bed. With a little momentum I got up. The short note that I wrote on a receipt I had in my wallet was sparse.
"Sorry had to go. See you tomorrow at school, or work."
I grabbed my cell phone and hurried out the door. I never got any calls on the damn thing but my mother had got it for me. It was on her plan. She said that every respectable kid these days had a cell phone. The only times I ever talked to her were when she was stuck in traffic and rang me up.
My dad would be pissed if he caught me up. Pissed but wouldn't do anything. The old man would be asleep anyways. It was Thursday and he'd have to finish up his work week by going in early. As my car started up and pulled out the driveway my eyes caught the light in Rachel's mother's room. Still watching soaps.
My eyes started to get a little water on the drive home. I'd saved for a few months to start getting contacts. They made me look less dorky and I was able to take a punch in the face without major damage to my ego from my glasses getting broken. I didn't have much trouble with bullies in school. I was too anti-social to be bothered by them but I still liked the thought of not having anymore of my glasses broken.
Before I could get to my bedroom I'd have to walk through the den. The lights were in the living room. My old man was sitting in front of the television watching a light night HBO movie. It looked like some Vin Deisel sci fi flick. He grunted as I walked in.
"You're late. You're curfew is at 12."
"Yeah, uh Sorry," I said. I looked around the room. He had an open twelve pack of cheap beer sitting next to him. "What are you doing up this late?"
He lifted up his right arm. His hand was bandaged. I sighed.
"Fucking guard on the saw broke off while I was working on it. Piece of shit machine damn near ate my hand. Got sent to the hospital. Stitched up my hand and here I am. Probably get workman's comp for a while. The crew wasn't that big and the guy's insurance probably won't go that far... Try not to think of it for too long."
"I'm sorry, Dad."
"Yeah, me too. Looks like the diet might be back to macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, instead of our special taco night." He chuckled slightly. After a moment he looked off to the side of the room and finished off his beer. He leaned over in his chair and grabbed another bear. He cracked it open. The hiss of the beer sounded so much louder than the screaming gunfire from the television.
"So where were you tonight? Hanging out with Tommy again?"
"No. I dropped this girl from work off. We watched a movie. It went later than I thought. I thought you'd be asleep by the time I got home so I didn't want to wake you with a call."
"You didn't fuck her did you? Better use a condom. Don't be a dumb ass like your father. Knock some girl up, marry her cause she's got a kid on the way and find out a year later that well.... you know the story."
"Uh, no we didn't do anything." I shuffled through the den moving towards my bedroom.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight dad."
I went to the bathroom and took out my contacts. They made a slight sucking noise as I pulled them off. I rubbed my eyes and put on my glasses. I brushed my teeth and flossed then went into my room. After pulling off my clothes I laid down and went to sleep.
"Shit."
Rachel grumbled a little. She had stripped down to her underwear at some point. I looked at her body. I'd never thought I'd see her so naked. She rolled over on the bed. With a little momentum I got up. The short note that I wrote on a receipt I had in my wallet was sparse.
"Sorry had to go. See you tomorrow at school, or work."
I grabbed my cell phone and hurried out the door. I never got any calls on the damn thing but my mother had got it for me. It was on her plan. She said that every respectable kid these days had a cell phone. The only times I ever talked to her were when she was stuck in traffic and rang me up.
My dad would be pissed if he caught me up. Pissed but wouldn't do anything. The old man would be asleep anyways. It was Thursday and he'd have to finish up his work week by going in early. As my car started up and pulled out the driveway my eyes caught the light in Rachel's mother's room. Still watching soaps.
My eyes started to get a little water on the drive home. I'd saved for a few months to start getting contacts. They made me look less dorky and I was able to take a punch in the face without major damage to my ego from my glasses getting broken. I didn't have much trouble with bullies in school. I was too anti-social to be bothered by them but I still liked the thought of not having anymore of my glasses broken.
Before I could get to my bedroom I'd have to walk through the den. The lights were in the living room. My old man was sitting in front of the television watching a light night HBO movie. It looked like some Vin Deisel sci fi flick. He grunted as I walked in.
"You're late. You're curfew is at 12."
"Yeah, uh Sorry," I said. I looked around the room. He had an open twelve pack of cheap beer sitting next to him. "What are you doing up this late?"
He lifted up his right arm. His hand was bandaged. I sighed.
"Fucking guard on the saw broke off while I was working on it. Piece of shit machine damn near ate my hand. Got sent to the hospital. Stitched up my hand and here I am. Probably get workman's comp for a while. The crew wasn't that big and the guy's insurance probably won't go that far... Try not to think of it for too long."
"I'm sorry, Dad."
"Yeah, me too. Looks like the diet might be back to macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, instead of our special taco night." He chuckled slightly. After a moment he looked off to the side of the room and finished off his beer. He leaned over in his chair and grabbed another bear. He cracked it open. The hiss of the beer sounded so much louder than the screaming gunfire from the television.
"So where were you tonight? Hanging out with Tommy again?"
"No. I dropped this girl from work off. We watched a movie. It went later than I thought. I thought you'd be asleep by the time I got home so I didn't want to wake you with a call."
"You didn't fuck her did you? Better use a condom. Don't be a dumb ass like your father. Knock some girl up, marry her cause she's got a kid on the way and find out a year later that well.... you know the story."
"Uh, no we didn't do anything." I shuffled through the den moving towards my bedroom.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight dad."
I went to the bathroom and took out my contacts. They made a slight sucking noise as I pulled them off. I rubbed my eyes and put on my glasses. I brushed my teeth and flossed then went into my room. After pulling off my clothes I laid down and went to sleep.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Pat Thai
I assume in the coming months that I'll be eating a lot of pat thai. Its cheapy, delicious, and easily made vegan. That said maybe I'll start reviewing my samplings of pat thai. Today's venture in pat thai was at Plearn. Plearn is located on shattuck and university close to my job and an easy bike ride from my house. A friend and I went over there for lunch and soon realized that they had a lunch combo plate that began with a rice soup.
The soup was thick and heavily spiced with ginger. After the soup came out the pat thai. One of the reasons why I enjoy the pat thai at Plearn so much is for its greasiness.
You can feel your skin break out in acne. The spice level was really tolerable for my falang tastebuds. It was hot enough to cause a slight sweat but mild enough to make me feel like I was tasting other flavors. The price was reasonable
Monday, September 17, 2007
Papi you are my only love
This morning I went running with Spike. He was pretty good on about a third of the run and then he gassed out. He would get excited when there was a squirrel to chase and would sprint for ten feet but that was it. He's out of shape. I did get a couple women saying "Oooh how cute."
Here a couple thai music videos the first two are from Bird, a famous thai pop singer. I enjoy the first one a lot, the second one is pretty cheasy. The last one is from a duo called China Dolls. The transliteration and karaoke style of the songs is pretty awesome.
Here a couple thai music videos the first two are from Bird, a famous thai pop singer. I enjoy the first one a lot, the second one is pretty cheasy. The last one is from a duo called China Dolls. The transliteration and karaoke style of the songs is pretty awesome.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Flickr
I've recently started a flickr account. http://www.flickr.com/photos/13143394@N06/
I'll be using it as a place to dump my pictures. I'm trying to figure out a system for my trip to thailand and using flickr may work for picture shit.
I'll be using it as a place to dump my pictures. I'm trying to figure out a system for my trip to thailand and using flickr may work for picture shit.
More "Art"
I don't make copies of my stencils for myself anymore. I'm lazy. I've been giving them to the gym instead. Here are some hanging on the walls. 
This is an infamous picture of Mohammad Ali knocking out some sucka.
This is my first super large stencil and also one of my nicest. It really creates a good atmosphere in the gym. Its a six foot stencil, or more maybe. The guy in the picture is in the process of doing the wai khru, a ceremonial dance before each fight to honor one's instructors, parents, and other supportive people.
This is a stencil of one of the new trainers Coke. Coke was in the lumpinee top ten for some time and can be considered a pretty good fighter. This stencil is small about 10 inches by 20 inches but ended up being pretty intricate. If you close up on it you can see me practice some of my thai lettering. My name in Thai, the month, and the year appear in the bottom left corner.
This is an infamous picture of Mohammad Ali knocking out some sucka. 
This is my first super large stencil and also one of my nicest. It really creates a good atmosphere in the gym. Its a six foot stencil, or more maybe. The guy in the picture is in the process of doing the wai khru, a ceremonial dance before each fight to honor one's instructors, parents, and other supportive people.
This is a stencil of one of the new trainers Coke. Coke was in the lumpinee top ten for some time and can be considered a pretty good fighter. This stencil is small about 10 inches by 20 inches but ended up being pretty intricate. If you close up on it you can see me practice some of my thai lettering. My name in Thai, the month, and the year appear in the bottom left corner.
Where will it end pt. 4
"I don't have any wine glasses, and drinking straight out of the bottle is pretty ghetto. Anyways I got these two coffee cups from the kitchen. Which would you like? 'Gone fishin' or 'You should see me when I'm on the Rag?' My preference is for the one about PMS. My Aunt gave it to my mother as a gag gift for her birthday. When my parents split up, my father called my mother 'The queen bitch of the Universe.' She slapped him and then cried for two days. When my aunt gave her this mug she hid it in the back of the cupboard. I like to drink wine from it because it reminds me of how my mother isn't some nine to fiver who falls asleep in front of soap operas but rather is someone who can at least make someone mad."
"I guess I'll take 'Gone Fishin.'"
"Good choice, although I guess you didn't really have too much of a choice. Anyways do you want to watch that movie. Or maybe we could listen to some records. I have the collected works of Joy Division. Its a four cd set that I got from the mall last week..."
Rachel kept talking but I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. Instead I stared at the Morrissey poster. Morrissey's youthful face is turned upwards. The shadow of his chin covers his chest. His red shirt contrasts with the blue background. He looks angelic. I took a big gulp of my wine. Its bitter and leaves a funny after taste. I don't drink much wine. One time Tom and I got pretty shitfaced off of boxed wine. I think we were playing Halo that night. His mother had had a small dinner party and we drank the left over wine. The next day hung over as shit Tom and I got yelled at. Tom said that he had to listen to his mother whine about how awful of a child was for a week. Whenever I go over there I always hear her complain about Tom so I don't really see what the big deal is.
"So what will it be? New Order? Joy Division? The Happy Mondays?" Rachel said. She was nervously tapping her front while diddling with her cd player. "I wish they would pay us a little more at work. I'm saving up for college but if I got an extra dollar or two per hour I could buy an ipod already. Its so stupid that we get minimum wage. Actually excuse me, we get $6 per hour, a quarter more than minimum wage. If I'm lucky I'll get an extra dime an hour in a month or two after my next evaluation. Hopefully Mr. Brokenberg won't try to hit on me during the evaluation. One of the girls in the pharmacy said that he asked her out like 5 times when she was doing her 90 day review. He is so fucking gross. I bet he has more hair on his back than on his head."
"He does seem like a pretty big loser. I don't understand why he drives from Albany to our shit hole town. You'd think that he could get a better job in Albany."
"He's also been working at the store for like a million years. How long have you worked there? I've been there nine months now, god what a fucking long nine months."
"I think its been eleven months, almost a year now."
"Oh god I've completely forgotten the music. Well if you have no objections I'm putting on New Order. Its good for the ambiance. Ambiance is an SAT word, that's what my english teacher Mr. Tulin said. Whenever someone says a word with more than two syllables its an 'SAT word.' Its a good thing I learned all this vocabulary, it helped me score well on the SAT. Now I can go to a decent college and not get stuck in this town. I don't know where I want to go yet. My mother doesn't really have the money to support me anywhere that's private. I want to go towards the city I think. Maybe I'll go to NYU. That will be soooo expensive though. I think I'm a cosmopolitan girl though. I read every issue of cosmo when it comes out. Sometimes I reread it when its slow at the store. Shit I'm babbling again. What are you going to do when you get out of school?"
Rachel looked at me and and then looked away. She took a long drink from her cup and then looked at the bottle nervously. Taking it she pulled off the cork and refilled her cup. My cup was empty as well. I'd been taking drinks from it during her soliloquy. Soliloquy that's an SAT word I thought to myself. She poured some wine into my cup. We'd already gone through half a bottle already. My head felt a little light. I'd have to stay here for a while if I was going to try and drive home. I looked at the clock on her stereo. It said 10:45. I could probably be okay to drive around one in the morning. The old man would be asleep already. He gave me a curfew but doesn't strictly enforce it. He probably gave it to me because one of the other guys on the crew gave their kid a curfew and so it seemed normal to give me one.
"I don't know what I want to do after school," I said after taking another drink from my cup. I felt drunk. "I don't want to stay here, in this town. I don't want to end up like my old man, breaking my back everyday doing construction. Going to college sounds like an alright idea. Most people don't do anything with their degrees though."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Rachel agreed. She nodded her head with an excessive vigor. She must be drunk I thought. "I was out eating at this restaurant with my cousin in Albany. She's so nice, my cousin. Anyways the waitress went to University with my cousin. They talked about how they couldn't get jobs after graduating. The waitress laughed about how she was '40,000 in the hole to that bitch Sallie Mae for a piece of paper that would ensure her working in this crappy restaurant for another five years.' Going to school is a way out of here though. Even if its not far, where I end up going to school, at least its not here."
"Yeah anywhere but here."
Getting up from the floor where we'd been sitting cross legged Rachel went to her bed. She sat down and leaned against the wall. She patted the bed beside her. I got up and sat next to her.
"You like girls don't you?"
"Uh, yeah, why?"
"I don't know. I guess I was just wondering."
I stared at the Morrissey picture again. I followed his eyes up into the corner of the room. I thought I could make out a small cobweb. I wondered if that's what he was looking at. Rachel put down her cup on her bedstand and back against the wall. I looked at the clock it was 12:15. I still felt drunk. Rachel put her hand on mine and then leaned her head on my shoulder. I could smell her. She smelled like shampoo, not the cheap anti-dandruff shit that my father got but a more scented kind. I wondered if they ground up flowers for the shampoo. Her breath evened out and slowed down. I moved my hand a little and nothing happened. I was pretty sure she had passed out. I looked at the clock and willed myself to wake up at one am as I sank down onto her bed. As my body shifted horizontally Rachel's body followed.
"I guess I'll take 'Gone Fishin.'"
"Good choice, although I guess you didn't really have too much of a choice. Anyways do you want to watch that movie. Or maybe we could listen to some records. I have the collected works of Joy Division. Its a four cd set that I got from the mall last week..."
Rachel kept talking but I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. Instead I stared at the Morrissey poster. Morrissey's youthful face is turned upwards. The shadow of his chin covers his chest. His red shirt contrasts with the blue background. He looks angelic. I took a big gulp of my wine. Its bitter and leaves a funny after taste. I don't drink much wine. One time Tom and I got pretty shitfaced off of boxed wine. I think we were playing Halo that night. His mother had had a small dinner party and we drank the left over wine. The next day hung over as shit Tom and I got yelled at. Tom said that he had to listen to his mother whine about how awful of a child was for a week. Whenever I go over there I always hear her complain about Tom so I don't really see what the big deal is.
"So what will it be? New Order? Joy Division? The Happy Mondays?" Rachel said. She was nervously tapping her front while diddling with her cd player. "I wish they would pay us a little more at work. I'm saving up for college but if I got an extra dollar or two per hour I could buy an ipod already. Its so stupid that we get minimum wage. Actually excuse me, we get $6 per hour, a quarter more than minimum wage. If I'm lucky I'll get an extra dime an hour in a month or two after my next evaluation. Hopefully Mr. Brokenberg won't try to hit on me during the evaluation. One of the girls in the pharmacy said that he asked her out like 5 times when she was doing her 90 day review. He is so fucking gross. I bet he has more hair on his back than on his head."
"He does seem like a pretty big loser. I don't understand why he drives from Albany to our shit hole town. You'd think that he could get a better job in Albany."
"He's also been working at the store for like a million years. How long have you worked there? I've been there nine months now, god what a fucking long nine months."
"I think its been eleven months, almost a year now."
"Oh god I've completely forgotten the music. Well if you have no objections I'm putting on New Order. Its good for the ambiance. Ambiance is an SAT word, that's what my english teacher Mr. Tulin said. Whenever someone says a word with more than two syllables its an 'SAT word.' Its a good thing I learned all this vocabulary, it helped me score well on the SAT. Now I can go to a decent college and not get stuck in this town. I don't know where I want to go yet. My mother doesn't really have the money to support me anywhere that's private. I want to go towards the city I think. Maybe I'll go to NYU. That will be soooo expensive though. I think I'm a cosmopolitan girl though. I read every issue of cosmo when it comes out. Sometimes I reread it when its slow at the store. Shit I'm babbling again. What are you going to do when you get out of school?"
Rachel looked at me and and then looked away. She took a long drink from her cup and then looked at the bottle nervously. Taking it she pulled off the cork and refilled her cup. My cup was empty as well. I'd been taking drinks from it during her soliloquy. Soliloquy that's an SAT word I thought to myself. She poured some wine into my cup. We'd already gone through half a bottle already. My head felt a little light. I'd have to stay here for a while if I was going to try and drive home. I looked at the clock on her stereo. It said 10:45. I could probably be okay to drive around one in the morning. The old man would be asleep already. He gave me a curfew but doesn't strictly enforce it. He probably gave it to me because one of the other guys on the crew gave their kid a curfew and so it seemed normal to give me one.
"I don't know what I want to do after school," I said after taking another drink from my cup. I felt drunk. "I don't want to stay here, in this town. I don't want to end up like my old man, breaking my back everyday doing construction. Going to college sounds like an alright idea. Most people don't do anything with their degrees though."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Rachel agreed. She nodded her head with an excessive vigor. She must be drunk I thought. "I was out eating at this restaurant with my cousin in Albany. She's so nice, my cousin. Anyways the waitress went to University with my cousin. They talked about how they couldn't get jobs after graduating. The waitress laughed about how she was '40,000 in the hole to that bitch Sallie Mae for a piece of paper that would ensure her working in this crappy restaurant for another five years.' Going to school is a way out of here though. Even if its not far, where I end up going to school, at least its not here."
"Yeah anywhere but here."
Getting up from the floor where we'd been sitting cross legged Rachel went to her bed. She sat down and leaned against the wall. She patted the bed beside her. I got up and sat next to her.
"You like girls don't you?"
"Uh, yeah, why?"
"I don't know. I guess I was just wondering."
I stared at the Morrissey picture again. I followed his eyes up into the corner of the room. I thought I could make out a small cobweb. I wondered if that's what he was looking at. Rachel put down her cup on her bedstand and back against the wall. I looked at the clock it was 12:15. I still felt drunk. Rachel put her hand on mine and then leaned her head on my shoulder. I could smell her. She smelled like shampoo, not the cheap anti-dandruff shit that my father got but a more scented kind. I wondered if they ground up flowers for the shampoo. Her breath evened out and slowed down. I moved my hand a little and nothing happened. I was pretty sure she had passed out. I looked at the clock and willed myself to wake up at one am as I sank down onto her bed. As my body shifted horizontally Rachel's body followed.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
where will it end pt. 3
We pulled into the drive way as Morrissey was mid way through another ambiguous love song. The ranch style house had a one car garage on the east side. Further east was another almost identical house. To the west was a vast field of corn. In the spring Rachel complained about the smell of manure from the field drifting into her house. I sat with my hands on the steering wheel staring at her garage door, it was brown, but in the dark it looked almost black. Through a window in the western part of the house came the glow of a television. Rachel coughed lightly. I turned my head to face her. She was looking down at her shoes.
"Do you want to come in? Last week I got my older cousin to buy me a bottle of wine and I haven't opened it yet. Its just some cheap merlot. Its better than carlos rossi... You drink wine don't you? I bet you don't. You look like a guy who just drinks beer all the time. You drink, like, PBR, or Hams or some other hip thing like that right? I bet my mother is passed out now, its not even eleven and she'll be passed out in front of the tv in her room the day's soap operas running. I mean if you don't want to you don't have to, it just seems like it might be nice. Maybe we could watch that Tony Wilson Movie, or have you ever seen "Sixteen Candles." Its the best movie ever, well next to Twenty-Four Hour Party people..." she looked nervously at me and then at the door. "Well, I guess I'm gonna go. Thank you for the ride again. When are you working next? Well I'll probably see you at school in the morning."
"I'll come in. I've never had merlot before. Does it stain your teeth?"
"We'll see won't we," she replied giggling.
I got out of the car and the brisk night air brushed against my face. My skin was soon covered in goose bumps. I looked up at the night sky and noted Orion. My uncle told me that in some regions where the seasons weren't so divided knowing the constellations was away of determining the seasons. With a knowledge of the seasons the farmers were able to plant at opportune times. When another constellation showed up in the sky the farmers knew that they had to reap their crops.
"I'll unlock the front door and then let you in through the garage door on the side." Rachel scurried up to the front door, fumbled with her keys for a moment and then quickly came out on the east side of the house. "Come on in. You've never been here have you? I don't really invite that many people over. Sometimes my cousins are here, when they're in town and for like dropping by, but really that's not that often. Most of the family has drifted apart ever since my grandmother died. She was the one who kept the family tied together. Everyone in the family thought she was crazy but she really kept us close. My older cousin, Rebecca, she was the one who bought the wine for me, she said that isn't anything quite like a common enemy, or common burden to keep people together. Isn't that clever? She's in college, a state school near the city. Well here it is, this is my room. You can have a seat wherever, on the bed, or on the floor, really wherever. I'll be right back I'm going to grab the bottle opener and then we can watch a movie or something. Okay I'll be right back."
Her room was neat but empty feeling. A television set resided in the corner of the room next to a small writing desk. I moved over to inspect the desk and saw several poetry books including Percy Shelly's "Promethus Unbound." Her bed was covered by a white quilt that matched the drapes. The room was marked only slightly by feminity. On her dresser resided a few hairclips and a very worn looking copy of Elle magazine. A picture of Morrissey decorated the walls.
"Do you want to come in? Last week I got my older cousin to buy me a bottle of wine and I haven't opened it yet. Its just some cheap merlot. Its better than carlos rossi... You drink wine don't you? I bet you don't. You look like a guy who just drinks beer all the time. You drink, like, PBR, or Hams or some other hip thing like that right? I bet my mother is passed out now, its not even eleven and she'll be passed out in front of the tv in her room the day's soap operas running. I mean if you don't want to you don't have to, it just seems like it might be nice. Maybe we could watch that Tony Wilson Movie, or have you ever seen "Sixteen Candles." Its the best movie ever, well next to Twenty-Four Hour Party people..." she looked nervously at me and then at the door. "Well, I guess I'm gonna go. Thank you for the ride again. When are you working next? Well I'll probably see you at school in the morning."
"I'll come in. I've never had merlot before. Does it stain your teeth?"
"We'll see won't we," she replied giggling.
I got out of the car and the brisk night air brushed against my face. My skin was soon covered in goose bumps. I looked up at the night sky and noted Orion. My uncle told me that in some regions where the seasons weren't so divided knowing the constellations was away of determining the seasons. With a knowledge of the seasons the farmers were able to plant at opportune times. When another constellation showed up in the sky the farmers knew that they had to reap their crops.
"I'll unlock the front door and then let you in through the garage door on the side." Rachel scurried up to the front door, fumbled with her keys for a moment and then quickly came out on the east side of the house. "Come on in. You've never been here have you? I don't really invite that many people over. Sometimes my cousins are here, when they're in town and for like dropping by, but really that's not that often. Most of the family has drifted apart ever since my grandmother died. She was the one who kept the family tied together. Everyone in the family thought she was crazy but she really kept us close. My older cousin, Rebecca, she was the one who bought the wine for me, she said that isn't anything quite like a common enemy, or common burden to keep people together. Isn't that clever? She's in college, a state school near the city. Well here it is, this is my room. You can have a seat wherever, on the bed, or on the floor, really wherever. I'll be right back I'm going to grab the bottle opener and then we can watch a movie or something. Okay I'll be right back."
Her room was neat but empty feeling. A television set resided in the corner of the room next to a small writing desk. I moved over to inspect the desk and saw several poetry books including Percy Shelly's "Promethus Unbound." Her bed was covered by a white quilt that matched the drapes. The room was marked only slightly by feminity. On her dresser resided a few hairclips and a very worn looking copy of Elle magazine. A picture of Morrissey decorated the walls.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Where will it end pt. 2
As the clock came closer and closer to ten o'clock I felt more and more bound to the store. Time seemed to slow as my release came near. Minutes became hours, seconds minutes. When the manager finally let me go, a wave of relaxation swept through my body.
"Hey Michael what are you doing tonight," Rachel asked me.
"Uh, I guess I was going to stop by my friend Tom's for a little while and then I was going home. I have a twelve o'clock curfew," I replied.
"Do you think you could give me a ride home?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess that wouldn't be a problem."
"Thanks. I'll just be a minute. Let me grab my coat."
"Okay I'll be out front."
I stood outside of the store peering out into the darkness. The fall nights were getting darker sooner and at this time of night it was pitch black. The advantage of the dark was that the stars were out more clearly. My uncle had taught me all the constellations when I was younger. I could accurately identify the big dipper, the little dipper, mars, venus, and a couple other planets. I looked up and could see the light white mar across the sky that was the milky way. A cold wind blew and I tightened my coat around me.
Rachel had been asking me for rides home for the past few weeks. She didn't live far away and we would talk for a little while on the ride back to her house about school, about the manager at work, about Billy, and about the woes of or poor skin. Rachel usually made me listen to various mopey music on the way back to her house. I'd grown to having ambiguous feelings about Morrissey, The Smiths, Joy Division, and The Cure. I preferred Cocksparrer and the Buzzcocks so much more.
"Last night I saw the most interesting movie," Rachel said as she stepped out of the store and towards my car. "It was all about Tony Wilson. Do you know who he is?"
"Isn't he a freshman at school?"
"No, not that Tony Wilson," Rachel gave a small giggle and then went on. "This Tony Wilson built a night club in Manchester London called the Hacienda. He was single handily responsible for the rise of Joy Division, the Happy Mondays, he even televised the Sex Pistols."
"I like the Sex Pistols."
We got in the car and I pulled out of the parking lot. Rachel's house was about a ten minute drive out of my way but I had nowhere to go. Tom and I would spend the next hour or two smoking pot and playing Grand Theft Auto or some other video game until I had to go home. I had school in the morning and Tom would have to get up at noon to smoke more pot and play more video games. Tom had dropped out of school last year and had recently gotten his GED. He'd begun taking community college classes which he said were as dumb as high school. His mother had been pressuring him to do something with his time and he gave way after weeks of nagging.
"The movie is so great. You get to see live performances of Joy Division. I almost cried. I watched it twice already and I just got it in from netflix last night. I think I might watch it again tonight before I go to bed..." Rachel's gaze drifted off into space. She's probably thinking of twiggy english boys dancing around to sappy love songs I mused.
"I really appreciate you giving me these rides. My mother hates picking me up. All she ever does is sit in the house and watch soap opera reruns. She tapes them and the watches them later in the evening. I hate that we have Tivo. She comes home from work and if I'm lucky makes macaroni and cheese with hot dogs for dinner. I hate the taste of boxed cheese now, I think when I move out, when I graduate, when I'm all done with school I'll never eat boxed food again."
"Yeah I hate that shit, even with velveeta cheese or something on it."
"Oh I'm so glad you understand how I feel, it seems so rare.
"Hey Michael what are you doing tonight," Rachel asked me.
"Uh, I guess I was going to stop by my friend Tom's for a little while and then I was going home. I have a twelve o'clock curfew," I replied.
"Do you think you could give me a ride home?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess that wouldn't be a problem."
"Thanks. I'll just be a minute. Let me grab my coat."
"Okay I'll be out front."
I stood outside of the store peering out into the darkness. The fall nights were getting darker sooner and at this time of night it was pitch black. The advantage of the dark was that the stars were out more clearly. My uncle had taught me all the constellations when I was younger. I could accurately identify the big dipper, the little dipper, mars, venus, and a couple other planets. I looked up and could see the light white mar across the sky that was the milky way. A cold wind blew and I tightened my coat around me.
Rachel had been asking me for rides home for the past few weeks. She didn't live far away and we would talk for a little while on the ride back to her house about school, about the manager at work, about Billy, and about the woes of or poor skin. Rachel usually made me listen to various mopey music on the way back to her house. I'd grown to having ambiguous feelings about Morrissey, The Smiths, Joy Division, and The Cure. I preferred Cocksparrer and the Buzzcocks so much more.
"Last night I saw the most interesting movie," Rachel said as she stepped out of the store and towards my car. "It was all about Tony Wilson. Do you know who he is?"
"Isn't he a freshman at school?"
"No, not that Tony Wilson," Rachel gave a small giggle and then went on. "This Tony Wilson built a night club in Manchester London called the Hacienda. He was single handily responsible for the rise of Joy Division, the Happy Mondays, he even televised the Sex Pistols."
"I like the Sex Pistols."
We got in the car and I pulled out of the parking lot. Rachel's house was about a ten minute drive out of my way but I had nowhere to go. Tom and I would spend the next hour or two smoking pot and playing Grand Theft Auto or some other video game until I had to go home. I had school in the morning and Tom would have to get up at noon to smoke more pot and play more video games. Tom had dropped out of school last year and had recently gotten his GED. He'd begun taking community college classes which he said were as dumb as high school. His mother had been pressuring him to do something with his time and he gave way after weeks of nagging.
"The movie is so great. You get to see live performances of Joy Division. I almost cried. I watched it twice already and I just got it in from netflix last night. I think I might watch it again tonight before I go to bed..." Rachel's gaze drifted off into space. She's probably thinking of twiggy english boys dancing around to sappy love songs I mused.
"I really appreciate you giving me these rides. My mother hates picking me up. All she ever does is sit in the house and watch soap opera reruns. She tapes them and the watches them later in the evening. I hate that we have Tivo. She comes home from work and if I'm lucky makes macaroni and cheese with hot dogs for dinner. I hate the taste of boxed cheese now, I think when I move out, when I graduate, when I'm all done with school I'll never eat boxed food again."
"Yeah I hate that shit, even with velveeta cheese or something on it."
"Oh I'm so glad you understand how I feel, it seems so rare.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Where will it end
The aisle is lit by fluorescent lights. The glowing bulbs are turned on at 9 in the morning and shut off at 10 in the evening. My skin seemed a little radiant under the light, but my skin is pale so I glow all the time. The children's section of the pharmacy needed to be reorganized again. At about 5 or 6 pm every night a bunch of little kids storm into the store grabbing every single cheap toy we have. Their parents get their various needs, diapers, advil, douches, milk, and cheap wonder bread, before heading home for dinner. After the little kids have torn the store apart I'm set to work facing product. I spend an hour lining up all the products on the shelves. The diapers must be straightened, the advil must be flush against the shelf, the douches must be dusted, the milk must be restocked, and the old wonder bread pulled off the shelf. I checked the time and cursed myself. The key to these service jobs is to somehow beat the clock. We all have our ways. I try to ignore it, the girl at the cash register, Rachel, in between customers writes poetry on scrap receipts, and Billy, the other stock boy, he pours forth his soul into his labor. He meticulously organizes the diapers, alphabetizes the advil, dusts, and redusts the douches, and keeps careful track of the stock being placed on the shelf.
The thing about living in a rural town is that you have to drive everywhere. My cousin said that LA is the same, but the distances are smaller and the traffic greater. Either way the neccissity for an automobile remains the same, especially in the cold, snowy winters. My father is a carpenter, my mother is a front desk manager at the town's best western (that's the classy chain motel at the top of the hill). Neither of them make much money, and they're split up so I'm forced to take care of some of my own necessities. My father worked on a porch addition on the side during the summer so he could front me money to buy a car.
"Now that you have a car you can get a job," my father said to me.
"Thanks Dad, I'll repay you, I swear," I had promised.
It took me two weeks to find this job. I applied for a position working at the motel, but they didn't need anyone and Mother never really liked having me underfoot. I thought about trying to do some construction like my father but I didn't want to break my back like the old man. I applied at the video store, the art store, the grocery store, burger king's, mcdonald's... I even got up the nerve to walk into the local bar by the town square to see if I could get a job bussing tables or barbacking.
The thing about living in a rural town is that you have to drive everywhere. My cousin said that LA is the same, but the distances are smaller and the traffic greater. Either way the neccissity for an automobile remains the same, especially in the cold, snowy winters. My father is a carpenter, my mother is a front desk manager at the town's best western (that's the classy chain motel at the top of the hill). Neither of them make much money, and they're split up so I'm forced to take care of some of my own necessities. My father worked on a porch addition on the side during the summer so he could front me money to buy a car.
"Now that you have a car you can get a job," my father said to me.
"Thanks Dad, I'll repay you, I swear," I had promised.
It took me two weeks to find this job. I applied for a position working at the motel, but they didn't need anyone and Mother never really liked having me underfoot. I thought about trying to do some construction like my father but I didn't want to break my back like the old man. I applied at the video store, the art store, the grocery store, burger king's, mcdonald's... I even got up the nerve to walk into the local bar by the town square to see if I could get a job bussing tables or barbacking.
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