served straight up. My bike is rusty, creaking, suffering from every know ailment a bicycle can succumb to; bent rim, loose seat, rusty chain, slipping gears, sagging tires…and then there is me. Me with jeans and big head phones that work as ear muffs when my ipod is dead. There is me pumping my legs up and down as the holiday down town shoppers frown and laugh and look at their cell phones.
It’s me as pictures are taken with Santa and the cops suddenly jump up and walk to their car. Joel is drunk. 7-drinks-drunk and this big chesty blond in a cheap black dress sways up to the bar and says “Saturday is my gay porn day, I spend 2-3 hours whacking off to gay porn. I love it.”
She says it like that ‘whacking off’. That’s funny. More delicious rotten obscenities and Joel is just nodding.
yeah yeah yeah
He orders another double gray hound and rolls another smoke. He is talking really loud like everybody needs to hear that he thinks the girl behind us with the short up-do and black/white blouse is some Christian goody goody on holiday who wound up in this pit of inequity with us degenerates. He thinks her life will be ruined tonight.
“It’s so sad. Look at her. She doesn’t even know.”
“What the fuck are you talking about. She’s just having a beer.”
But he was all weepy and 3 sheets to the wind. We go outside so he could smoke.
A big splashy scene of lights one block east, cop cars.
I twitpic the crime scene. Inside a parking garage, across from a popular night club, a man lay on his back. A gurney rolled on the concrete into the gray garage.
“Take my picture.” goes Joel
They wheel the guy out and his white shirt is covered in blood. Bandages swathe his head but red and yellow fluid are already welling up to the surface has they lift the gurney into the ambulance.
Joel is suddenly struck from giddy to gut achingly somber.
“Jesus. Did you see that. That yellow stuff, that yellow stuff was cranial fluid. Oh god. He’s bad. Ohhh..that fucks with me.”
He went on for a while.
The ambulance lights threw thousands shadows so that if I spun they would wink in and out of existence.