Friday May 17 2013

Karacell (May 17 2013)[i]

Waking up around 12:30 p.m.


Blueberry Bagel with Non-Dairy Cream Cheese. Orange Juice.


Fiddling on the computer in the dining room while the steam cleaner guy cleans the carpets throughout the house.


Steam Clean 1435 (2)(May 17 2013)


Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Lemon Water.


The carpet job is complete. There goes $200 and some of the paint stains didn’t even come up.


At the basketball courts playing a few 2-on-2 games with more experienced players.


White Peach and Mango.


There’s a show at The Wave in Norfolk tonight. I got invited by multiple people. On the drive there I scarf down some leftover dinner: Tilapia with Peppers, Onions, Carrots, Rice, and Potatoes. Then wash it down with a Mickey’s.

...

Going to The Wave is usually a special occasion for me. Kelley and her friend Tara came from the house on their own accord. Mingling with them every so often. Ana’s here. We stay by each other’s sides for the most part. Rocky is thrilled to see my face. Her experimental band Scoughs opened up the show along with Karacell, Ikagura, and Geneva Jacuzzi. Out on the smoker’s patio Ana and I witness a guy sitting on the bench dozed off in dreamland wake up suddenly and lean over to spew on the seat next to him. Wow. Later inside relaxing at one of the booths with Ana. She explains that her drinking limit is three beers, which is a responsible line to draw. I respect that. I examine the aesthetics of her overall appearance (the black outfit, her hair, her boots, and the treble clef tattoo that’s showing on her right arm) and explain that she looks exceptionally pretty tonight.

Me: “What color is your heart?”

Ana: “Teal.”

Kelley and Tara plop down in the booth with us briefly. Kelley’s going on about a Japanese redneck that reminded her of her future desire to have babies.

 
Ana & a PBR (2)(May 17 2013)


While waiting along the banister of the dance floor I have no choice but to eavesdrop on a conversation between a tall cross dresser type and a guy. The cross dresser is upset.

Cross Dresser: “I’m in 4-inch stilettos and he fucking pushed me! He shoved me!”

The guy sympathizes, “Yeah, fuck that shit.”

Cross Dresser: “And he thought it was fucking funny!”

During the beginning of Geneva Jacuzzi’s set of empty costumed theatrics Ana and I dip outside and lounge in the front seats of my car. She lies her head down on my lap as I describe the random happenings around us, which include a drunken woman hugging a beggar and boisterous couples hollering in the street.


I head home. Enjoying a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch before I fall asleep shortly after 4 a.m.


[i] All images by me.

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