Self Checkout – Summer of 1990

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Never a lightning rod salesman around when you need one

Saturday afternoon, after grabbing a turkey burger from Johnny Rockets at Fashion Square in Scottsdale, I cruised over to Tempe to distribute promotional materials and stumbled into the gigantic arts and crafts festival on Mill ave…which reminded me of South By Southwest except with less hipsters and more old folks. Still, I love going to these and wish the arts and crafts festival went on every weekend even though that would just cheapen the coin of the realm and less people would go. It always seems like the artifacts one could pick up at these types of events could lead to some cliche
horror movie haunting along the lines of the clock in “Amityville 1992: It’s About Time” Speaking of which, Megan Ward was so hot in that! Whatever happened to her? Many of my most romantic sexual fantasies from the 90’s involved her and that scene where she is seduced by her own reflection. As a further digression, I had a talking PeeWee Herman doll when I was a kid..the one where you pull the string and PeeWee says one of his catch phrases like “I know you are but what am I” etc. And I swear that occasionally that thing would just somehow talk on its own, which scared the shit out of me. It creeped me out so much that I made my mom hide it in the
closet.

The night at Casey Moore’s brought to town a metaphoric carnival of sorts, with various sideshows of drama, suspense, bearded ladies, merry go rounds and mirror mazes(sorry I have been reading Something Wicked this Way Comes and have these things on the brain.) I drank more than usual, so I wasn’t myself. Yes, I’m a lightweight, and two full classes of wine gets me more inebriated than I need to be and sets me off into full on mischief mode. I was trying to protect a super drunk girl who epitomizes female perfection from some really ugly, wack and disgusting guys…although it sort of turned out the girl didn’t want to be protected and was semi-enthusiastic about said dudes….which triggered a sort of “Invasion of The Body Snatchers” moment where I’m Dr. Miles J. Bennell and just discover by way of passionless kiss that someone near and dear has been replaced by a pod. Anyhow, as I’ve mentioned I’m reading “Something Wicked This Way Comes” which, aside from being a great book title, sounds a lot like the type of prediction I’m likely mutter to myself at the start of each day. The last time I saw the film version starring Jason Robards was when it initially played a plethora of times on HBO back in 1984. It terrified me as a small boy, but for some reason I could never resist watching it whenever it came on, usually in the mornings. It affected me deeply..and “the most beautiful woman in the world” as an evil temptress sequences may have contributed to my misogyny later in life(as well as induced some premature stirrings of sexuality down there.) I remembered how frighteningly traumatizing the movie was for me, and so I never saw it again even when I got older…but I think I’m ready now.

I bought a snazzy black denim jacket from American Apparel, which fits right in with my new phase of only wearing combinations of the colors “black and white”