Living in Los Angeles; home to invalids,, show-men, homosexuals,
deviants, dero's, murderers and all other current and former peripheral
members of society, the tangential concept encompassing this lovely
neighborhood that it is also home to some of the most average and boring
people on the planet is somewhat dividing of the mind. Armed with an
exceptional grasp of statistical concepts and an abnormally high sperm
count, it didnt take long for me to discover that most of the highly
attractive females i was after were, in fact, very unintellectual and
demure people. This inwardly led to a panic attack.
My earlier Socratic dialogue with myself concerning what i wanted out of
female and the nature of love had no Socrates to keep me logical. It
was just me, bouncing between the poles of intelligence and outward
beauty. There was of course no one to correct me, as i am just myself,
and consequently no thought necessarily implied the next, in fact, a
thought would often contradict its predecessor. I thought perhaps some
drugs would force clarity on my confused logical state, but this only
further disturbed my demanding sense of order.
Spending the night at yet another strange tattoo'd girls house, she
struck me with an interesting question early on. "You up?" she asked.
Obviously i was left with a diametric situation: pretend to be asleep
and hence avoid any unintelligent questioning, or wakeup with the usual
eccentric charisma and throw her off balance, causing her chemically
enhanced brainwaves to skip a beat and forget the aformentioned
questions she was ready to impose. Obviously it was a risky situation,
maybe one i shouldnt have placed on myself in my fragile state.
I chose the latter.
"Im way up!" i said, dropping my charade of sleep, which i instantly realized was a lie with no purpose.
Her centre parted hair, long and oddly brown, sat over her shoulders as
her eyes flickered in a manner that showed she had remembered what she
wanted to say, but suddenly felt a hint of regret at motioning me into
this impromptu discussion. Her gaze changed again and she went on,
oblivious to the last several seconds doubts.
"I cant get a job" she mumbled, her eyes beginning to water.
She was definately still in a drug reduced state, the come-down slowly
sinking its claws into her mind. I wondered if maybe she wanted
something chemical from me, but as i cant remember her or me paying for
anything the night previous, i wasnt about to relent from this mongreled
stance i had started.
Of course she was an actor, and traversed into an all-out discussion on her latest part as a bagel girl for a law firm show.
"I put my heart and soul into it. I wanted to be a great bagel girl, one
thatd be remembered, someone memorable" This has been haphazardly
paraphrashed as the entire speil lasted over 10 minutes and included
quick 30seconds rants about her brother and his ex-girlfriend, her
landlord, and the current status of the local subway shops construction,
all topics met with the kind of childlike candor that attracted me to
her in the first place.
She kept talking, but id stopped listening, preferring to think about
where id left my orange juice in the fridge, so i could grab it without
looking whilst i read the LA weekly. She didnt even finish her last
sentence; it just trailed off. I think the subject had changed in her
head again while her mouth had continued on the old topic, not realizing
it was out of supplies. She asked me how old i was. It wasnt long till i
left and got into the Montero sport to head home.
I subsequently met up with homes from NZ (blake) and we travelled past
several disturbingly similiar industrial neighbourhoods and stamp-like
outdoor malls to arrive in San Diego. Surf, booze, coke and other
assorted derivations of the previous 3 set the tone. I had now picked
out an odd habit of doing a two foot shuffle into any bar we walked,
somewhat to amuse myself at peoples vacant stares as they witnessed what
they could only classify as quirky, and secondly to show the bouncers i
wasnt inebriated to the point that such a maneuver couldn't be
accommodated by my rapidly depreciating body. As there were only 4
people in the bar, i decided that there was to much ice in my whiskey
and threw a cube at the guy behind me. He turned out to be gay, and a
rapidly flaring argument and heated debate about gay-bashing and foreign
civility was high on the agenda for the next 5 minutes before we got
kicked out and someone kicked the dukebox. Megadeth was playing. Happy
days.
I can say with all certainty that is the last thing i remember from the 5 days down south. 24hours sleep straight.
When i awoke a vibrant image filled my head. I am always amazed by what
lies buried in the mind until one day for no particular reason it rears
its head. That afternoon in bed, a vision of the tattoo girls face
entered my consciousness, and i saw clearly that she had grey blue eyes,
really amazing grey blue eyes. It was a small fact i hadnt realized id
known, and one that will undoubtedly shape my life in the future.
