the naming of cats is a difficult matter

Saturday afternoon I decided I needed a new uniform. When you’re not having any luck in the world, you can’t change the world and luck is imaginary…so all you can really do is buy some new clothes and/or shave. I went to American Apparel in Scottsdale, and bought this black longsleeve shirt/sweater which when combined with my black pants and white belt, made me look a bit like a sandman from the 1976 movie “Logan’s Run.” I bought an extra small for the hell of it, but when I got home and tried it on, it was too tight(not to mention hot as balls.) So I didn’t want to go right back to the store and exchange it for a small, because I was just in there, and it would be weird. Not sure why I would get anxiety about that, but I just felt like I would appear “wishy washy” to the cashier people. Like they would give me a look like “there’s something amiss with this dude. He just bought this and now he’s returning it 5 minutes later…what a nutjob.” I mean hey, that’s what I would be thinking. So I decided to go to the Tempe American Apparel and exchange it there…which turned out to be an amazing decision, because I was rung up by the friendliest cashier person I’ve ever encountered. Not since I was in a Casino did a person look so happy to take my money…(or in this case my merchandise for exchange.) When she asked me how my day was going I gave my stock answer of “It sucks” which was true enough and she seemed taken aback by that. These customer service questions can become so routine, that I think people are not prepared when you actually give a somewhat genuine response. “That’s not the answer people usually give” she said. Indeed, and just like that she almost seemed like a friend.

I was in a bad mood most of yesterday because the internet was down, and I had a lot of emails and other crap to tend to. I tried to go to the internet cafe and they were closed! Did they go out of business? I watched “Bullitt” with Steve Mcqueen, which I haven’t seen since about 2002. He’s great in it of course…but I’m not a big fan of realism in movies(unless it’s realism of emotion or humor.) I like movies that leave some things to the imagination. Mainly I think it’s just the “realistic” hospital ER scenes that are a bit too much for a hypochondriac like me to watch. I don’t like to see THAT far into my future.

I took a long nap and woke up rather frantically at midnight, just in time to throw on my new AA sweater and head out to Casey Moore’s. Most people I knew were MIA, but strangely everything fell into place. I took the initiative and met some people I had wanted to know for a long time. After the bar closed, during the outside part.. you know, that time when everyone(mostly dudes) stands around in search of nonexistent afterparties or with the fleeting hopes that something interesting will happen, but it rarely ever does…well in that short period of time I met a girl, who agreed to go with me to meet some friends at a cafe. Only when we started driving, we decided neither of us were hungry(not to mention we didn’t find the place) and so instead we went to 24 hour Walmart(an adventure in itself) and purchased an official NCAA basketball. We then drove to a park in Tempe and played basketball until the sun started to come up. We played three games of PIG, with her winning the first game and me the next two. In reality, we were evenly matched as we both sucked about equally…but we could potentially rule as friends with practice.

Today after a brief stint hanging out at Borders reading Darwin Porter’s unsubstantiated gossip filled, unauthorized biography of Steve McQueen “The King of Cool,” I decided to go back to the Tempe American Apparel and buy another of the exact same sweater I purchased the previous day. Miraculously, the same girl was there to ring me up again. I could tell she thought it was odd I was buying a duplicate of the item I had just bought…”hmm you’re getting another black top” she muttered curiously. But I told her that the other one had turned out to be good luck, and she seemed to understand.

May 24, 2010. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , . Uncategorized. Comments off.

bedtime story

So after two weeks of living in my new house i finally was able to go and get my bed. I could not get anyone with a truck to help me move the rest of my stuff so i had to do it all macgyver style on top of the CRX. Picture a gihugic bed and shelves on top of a tiny car with me in it. Keep in mind, I was forced to drive very gingerly since i had nothing in the way of rope to secure these things to the top of my car with. Everything went smoothly. The operation was a success

It wasn’t always this easy you know….. A few years ago, i couldn’t get anyone to help me move my bed from my West Hollywood apartment. Typically you can’t expect much in the way of concrete favors from most “Grade A” L.A. flakes, so i took matters into my own hands and came up with the brilliant idea to push my bed down Santa Monica blvd(it had those little wheels on the bottom). After all, i only had to go about 12 blocks, right? So after I made it about 50 feet, the whole bed fell apart, with pieces flying everywhere. I spent about a half hour putting it back together as best i could and continued on. After about 4 or 5 hours of this i had made it only 3 blocks. I stopped to rest, because it was really hot outside(it was august), and i was exhausted. While i was standing there catching my breath, a creepy gay black man wearing workout clothes quietly propositioned me. His exact words were “Hey, i got a job for you. I’ll pay you 50 bucks if you let me suck your cock” said in the creepiest black guy voice you can possibly imagine. I told him i wasn’t interested “AT ALL”. He continued to bother me for a while even reducing himself to begging, but i ignored him. At this point i decided i’d had enough so i would just stash my bed somewhere in a parking garage for the time being and figure out a way to get it later. It was getting dark, so i made my way back to my apartment only to find my crazy Iranian landlord had locked me out of my apartment (the same jerk who the day i moved in to the shithole showed me to the door of my place and said “hahaha lukes like you’re going to have to clean thees place opp”). Anyways, so i was locked out, and i needed the rest of my stuff cause Kristin Cook(god bless her soul) was coming over to help me move my clothes and stuff. So i climbed up some treacherous terrain and broke in through the bathroom window. This was the teeny tiniest window in the world and even my 28 inch waste ass barely made it in. When i got in i grabbed the shower rod which broke off and i took a nasty fall face first and smashed my chin on the bathroom sink. The angle at which i fell and the way i fell was so awkward and hard that at first i absolutely couldn’t believe i didn’t break my neck. I mean I literally sat there for a minute in complete amazement that I wasn’t dead. Blood started running from my chin and various other parts of my body. Then i could hear the landlord coming so i shut off all the lights and hid (something which had become second nature since i often was late paying rent). He came towards the apartment but then just went away luckily. I had just enough time to move my stuff out before he came back. Kristin and Brook showed up and we threw everything in her car and got the rock out of there, and they took me to defacto where i was unaware a whole new chapter of pain was about to begin… As for my bed? i went back for it the next day, and it was gone. It was all for nothing! There you have it, my luck, my life, in a microcosm!

June 12, 2004. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , . Uncategorized. Comments off.

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