I am either still drunk or have entered a parallel universe: It is, 9 minutes later, POURING DOWN RAIN.
I step off the last flight and open the door to the lobby.
Great. There are people in it.
"My air unit got struck by lightening ... I am too hot!" Bitched this old woman.
"The stairs are slippery and I am already injured," squeeled a smokey woman. There was something about this woman that made her "bitching" o.k. I didn't really take it as bitching ... I kinda wanted to help.
Don't ask why ... It's a Jewish thing.
"Ummmmmm sir?" Said a familiar voice. Guess who ...
No really ... just guess.
Yes.
"Hey fat boy, I was first!" bullied a skinny middle aged man that looked widowed. How? He was wearing a stained white shirt. Any good woman would give share the "bleach solution" with their significant other.
"Oh, sorry sir. I'm about to leave ... promise. I am actually meeting a friend to go to his grandma's for Friday night dinner soo uh... I really need to talk to the tenant real quick." Jeb turns back towards the front deskman.
HE TOO STARTS BITCHING.
I don't interrupt him though. I'm too enthralled with the crippled stranger.
I check her out from her mismatched boots (one medical and one galosh) to her American Spirits enlarging her rearend all the way up to her swollen, solomn face.
Shit, I don't know what the hell she needs. A new face or a new foot? Or a body gaurd? Or just a friend. A lover? Or a caretaker. Her dad? Or a man ... like me?
An old woman walks in through the front door with her little bitch dog; They are both drenched.
"Lady," starts the front deskman. G-d he's such a putz.
Poor thing ... she can't even hear. She continues walking towards to stairwell.
"LADY! THERE'S NO DOGS ALOUD IN HERE LADY!" screams the putz.
The poor bube stops dead in her tracks and looks down at her dog.
"I am sorry sir ... III I didn't remembmer ... I'm getting ablebuddle ... please ... let me atleast dry him off ... He may catch cold ..." says the old woman.
At this, a hurried bitch steps on her dog's tail in hopes of catching the old woman's taxi.
The dog takes off leaving a trail of water throughout the lobby.
The front deskman leaves his post and chases the dog all the way down the hall. The bube hobbles along behind him.
Everyone at the front desk starts to bicker, except the crippled stranger. In an attempt to get herself out of the situation she back- hobbles right into the dog's puddle.
She slipps.
At that instant, I finally woke up ... over hung my hangover: I instantly reacted by going to break her fall.
And that I did.
Except in the process, I took Jeb down with me ... or on top of me.
How am I still alive? NOOOO idea.
The girl lets out a little squeel. It was strangely adorable.
An oldman offers a hand to her. She recieves it kindly and struggles to get her footing. She's up.
She then extended her hand for Jeb along with a smile.
Jeb excepts, then starts to conversate with my stranger.
I am still on the floor ... The puddle has started to settle into my pants.
Awesome.
Thankg-d for this girl, for she didn't forget about me. She pushes Jeb aside ever so slightly with her bony fingers and extends her hand.
"Thankyou ... what a mitzvah." The girl said with a smile.
I study her characters looking for a sign of anything jewish. She has no oversized nose ... no stereotypical features. But this word ... this was a sign.
"What's your name?" I ask ignoring her thanks.
"Marie ... Marie Voulez."
There is nothing Kosher about that name. But I don't really care.
"Shit!" I said. I stepped in a pothole. This is precisely what I get for wearing platformed sandals in the rain. Then again, how am I supposed to wear my springtime duds when this town is dreary six days out of a seven day week?
ReplyDeleteI was about a block away from Aberdeen's brothel when out of nowhere those crazy Christian people from the storefront church came running around the corner like a pack of hyena's. Well, minus the noise. They were abnormally quiet when turning that corner. Like they were up to something.
"Street trash!", one of them yelled out as I passed the crowd.
"You Overweight, mom-jean wearing, dowdy housewife!!! Don't thing that I am not afraid to slap you. What kind of Christian calls people that?"
I didn't stay to hear the ignorant response she had in store. They looked like they were heading for the library. Who cares.
Before I could knock on the door, Abbie opened it. The sound of Martini shakers and Mambo blasted out of the room.
"Reneeeeeee dahhhling!" she slurred as she took my fur (it was Fendi), "I was hopping that you would make it here soon. I know how afraid you are of thunder. Before I forget I brought you some candy!"
"Did someone say my naaaame?", Kandi said while she sashayed over while simultaneously balancing her cocktail. I proceeded to give her a cheek to cheek.
"No dear, I was simply telling Renee here about the treats I have obtained for the festivities!" She responded as she handed me an elaborate platinum pillbox.
"Lauryn honey, mix up something nice for Renee please!"
After taking a "bump", I sat on the couch and sipped my martini, slowly drifting away into euphoria. The music changed up to bass pumping house, and everyone began to dance. I didn't really care for some of the tasteless women in the room, so I roamed around the antique shop. Then I heard a knock on the door. It was Mr. Doestein, the old Jew guy from the deli.
"Quick, there's a fire at the library!", he said with a stutter.
I didn't even have to ask who started it. I already knew. I ran inside and gathered the girls. We all ran outside towards the Library. Most of us scantly clad. Doped up and wasted. The rain drenching out clothes and our hair. While we danced in the streets, pretending to hear the bass of the house music. We passed a broken down tour bus with what seemed full of Orientals. They curiously followed us to the back lot of the library.
When we got there it was far from a full blown fire. In fact it was controlled. No more than a bonfire. It was alluring. The reds and oranges evoked a sense of passion in us, and we began to dance. All of us singing different songs, and throwing liquor given to us by the local bums in the fire to make it appear bigger. I couldn't help but hike up my skirt and spin, letting the wind catch it like it would catch a dream catcher. Head back. Eyes closed. Letting the rain hit my face. I forgot I was even there.
"...Shes a dude!"
Catching myself I stop dancing and lower my skirt to its original position. Everyone was staring at me. Many with looks of awe. Disgust. Some even laughing. I didn't know what to do, nor say. I just stood there. Staring.
Out of nowhere a Bible came flying across the lot, hitting me on the left side of my face. I Couldn't help but cry, but the rain falling hid my tears. Aberdeen ran towards me, holding me in a comforting way, as I broke down in silent sobs. Nobody had ever seen me cry. The Christians began to riot, screaming and chastising me. The orientals were taking pictures, while the girls helped me get up from the ground. People cleared a path while I was draped between Kandi and Abbie, barely standing on my own, whiled the dragged me through the crowd, back to the house...
"What the hell?" Alex opened the window and yelled out to someone on the street, "whats going on?"
ReplyDeleteA guy yelled up to her, "someone's burning books by the library!" Alex was pretty sure his name was John Doestein...and she was pretty sure he was crazy, but she wanted to go check it out anyways.