ss1

The Space-Whale
2004-05-28 - 3:54 a.m.


before/after
strangely non-functional guestbook

I showed up at the reading, guitars in tow, dressed in black from head to toe. 

Tight black t-shirt, some nice black cotton flare-leg tie in front pants, white sox, and my black sketchers with the white stripes.  And black sunglasses.

"With those sunglasses you look...very metro." Andrew, one of the local coffeeshop kids said when I entered.

"These?"  I answered, "Four dollar gas station specials." 

I chatted with the featured reader and the host for a minute or two.  The featured reader was a local university professor.  Or doctor.  Im not sure.  I know him as "Mike".  Second professor from the university that I've hung out with this month.  Strange how things go.

Mike is older, from San Fran, dyes his hair black to get out the gray, and does some impressive art work.  He's an art professor.  Does line drawings like Ralph Steadman.  Other works of art, always a touch of sex.  Has a wife that nobody has seen.  At least, nobody I talk to, anyway.

He was insistent when we practiced the night before.  I'm flexible, though with my playing.  Sometimes I think I'd make a deal with Satan to have a band, or people with whom I could jam consistently.  If I believed in Satan.  Maybe I'm satan.  Maybe we're all our own Satan's, our own God's, trapped in the maisma of physical matter, with the eternity of mind beckoning.  So many things I just dont know.

I set up, people filed in.  And I started playing.

People watched as I played blues riffs on my twelve string with slide.  Love the slide.  The kid-owner-heir apparent to the doctor who actually owns the coffee shop (but not the building...) came and greeted me.  Didnt use my name.  I havent seen him in a while, and he's a milk-soft dipshit anyway.  I question if he remembers it.  Then again, I forgot his name, too. 

And Audrey showed up.  I greeted her and played some more.  We got some coffee and sat in the back.  Audrey seemed to notice every girl that walked by, or seemed to watch me play.

"And I saw that women in the aqua shirt watching you."  she said with a hint of mock-jealousy.

"She was old."  I said.

We'd displaced a guy from the big comfy sofa's in the back, and I sat with my arm over her shoulders.  People lined up at the counter, waiting for their coffee.

Now, the great thing about draw string pants is, I can get my dick out with little or no hassle.  No abrupt movements, nothing to outlandish.  If I so wish.  If I so wish.

The crowd gathered at the counter, talking amongst themselves.  Others sat at tables nearby, murmuring.  Some had their backs turned.  I saw my opportunity and took it.

"Im going to flash you."  I said to Audrey.

"What?" she said, with alarm, looking around.

And I whipped my cock out and flashed her with it.  The perfect crime.  If the perfect crime was crude banality.

But hey, sometimes you gotta whip it out.  Its funny, I sit here and read this, and become aware what a tawdry human being I've become.

But whatever.  Put on this planet, this life for kicks and giggles.  So many have already chosen the steaded way, that life's been done.   Live a little differently.  Even if that means flashing someone in public.

Besides, flashing a girl is much like doing drugs in public and not getting caught.  Like being high at a menial job, or any job.  If I can do it, and get away with it:  then I WIN.

And now that I think of it, a guy got arrested recently around here for flashing girls as they walked by on a nearby nature walk through the city.  He did it somewhere in the ballpark of thirty times until the cops outwitted him.  When they picked him up, he said he did it to "meet women".

There's an introduction for you that cuts right through all the bullshit with the subtlety of a chainsaw on aluminum.

I dont think he got very far with his ice-breaker of "hey, I dont know you, but here's my cock"

As for me, I usually get laid, or fool around or something relatively soon-ish after I flash.  Usually anyway.  There was one time I did a strip tease at a party where I knew hardly any one and I was really drunk, standing on a table while my brother's girlfriend watched.  Then there was that naked party...

but I digress.

My point is, for me, flashing is fun and Im not a criminal.

So I flashed Audrey.  She blushed and looked around.  The host, MC, Dean's parents were at the counter. 

Nobody saw nothin'.  Like I said, the perfect crime.  I win.  Again. 

And a new crop of local poets, most with bad stuff and reading styles took the microphone at the front of the coffee shop.  One guy was particularly pretentious and a low talker, with a haircut like the westernized version of jesus.  Probably has a dog-eared copy of "On the Road" in his brown courderoy jacket.  Makes a point of being brooding and cynical.

All this new blood stirs my competitive juices.  I want to write more poems and show them how its done.  Reclaim the terra firma with a firm boot stomp of a warrior poet.  Yes, you too, wanna be poet boy.  You havent SPENT the time out on the edge to claim my roost.  Go re-read your Kerouac and see if there's something there that you're missing.  I HAVE NOT been gone that long. 

But then again, I should be nurturing.  That's why I got the cat.  To teach me to be more nurturing.   I should just wear panties or something, instead of wrapping him up into my bullshit.  However, I dont regret getting Boo-kitty.  I love him very much.  And there's no room in panties for balls.  I know this from experience.  I only wore panties once, but it was for a good reason...

And I digress again.  Like proust, I could tail through tales of tawdry and innocence with the bite of a macaroon, or a simple flashing in a coffe-shop room.  Its all linked together by the meat-sausage that is my brain.

Anyway.

I played again at intermission, to keep the vibe toghether, playing six string covers this time.  I sang well, played well.  Didnt feel it too much.  They set up a video camera to record Mike, maybe they recorded me, I dont know.  When I sang, I sang to Audrey, but it made her shift in her seat and look uncomfortable.  Maybe I sang poorly and everyone lies to me.  Or maybe she's painfully shy.  One of the academians, a real curmudgeon, clapped in time with me while I played.

Later on, I got up and jammed with mike.  He graciously invited me onstage and we played songs that we had practiced at his incredibly spacious Victorian style, ACTUAL Victorian home the night before.  High ceilings, lots of pointless rooms, all filled with art-work and knick-knacks.  I snacked on strawberrys while he coached me to get what he wanted for accompanyment.

We played and I scanned the room.  There was a girl (another girl) with an aqua top and incredible tits watching me.  And Hillary, the new coffee shop girl wandered around.  Hillary fairly reeks of sex.  She might end up being overweight when she gets older, but now, she's not.  Very curvacious body.

And I made eye contact with her a couple of times.  I caught her searching for my eye, then making that "Oh shit, I got caught looking" sort of look-away.  She flipped her hair flirtatiuosly and seemed to strut around.  I liked it.  More of a...sandy blonde hair, with highlights, dark eye make-up.  Seems like a nice girl. 

We played and got finished.  I played behind some poems of his, anti-war poems.  And it was done.

Then the usual chit-chat.  Hillary left early.  I looked at the girl in the aqua shirt and incredible breasts, and she got a look on her face like she was...I dont know, intimidated?  Like, "Oh, no, he's going to come over and talk to me...", but not in a bad way, but in a...nervous sort of way.  Which is cute.

I love women.

Anyway. I talked to a few people, and we left to go to the bar, like usual.  Audrey road with me.

And we saw the girl with incredible breasts.  She was watching me as I pulled out of my parking spot.

I mentioned something about her to Audrey.  Something like, "Oh look, there's the girl with the incredible tits."

"Where?"  she said, looking around.

"Right in front of us," I said, waving coyly at her.  She waved back.

I pulled into the road, and she was about to cross the street.  I waved her forward, and she went, with a spring in her step that made her luscious breast jiggle and bobble just the way God wanted them to.  That is, if god is me.

"She didnt have to do that!" Audrey screeched, "She did that just for you!"

"What?" I said, wondering what had tweaked her now.

"Put that pop in her step.  I have breasts, I know how they are, they dont have to jiggle like that!" she seethed in some sort of jealousy.

"Well, if she did that for me, I appreciate it."  I said.

"She was fat."  Audrey said.

"No she wasn't." 

"You weren't even looking at anything besides her tits...she was CHUNKY." 

And we drove to the bar.  I needled her with the exchange later in the night and she mocked me for it, as the bar remained empty and I discussed the politics of the local literary scene, trying to get one of my poems published that seems to be in limbo at the another publication.  They're holding it for the next issue, but who knows.  I want it published now.  Besides, its a strong peice, and it might help Dean.

Later on, Audrey and I went out to an area where you can watch deer graze.  There werent any dear, but the night was clear, and we could watch the stars.   We made out, and it felt like forever since I'd had a women in my arms.  Since I'd had Audrey in my arms.

We kissed and fooled around.  I carressed her breasts, suckled on a nipple, and ran my hands over her body.

"Will you give me head, baby?" I asked.  And she did.

I felt her lips wrap around my cock, thinking of the small miracle of pleasure it provides, the lips.  She seems to have gotten better at it, and I moaned.

"What's wrong?"  she asked.

"Nothing, it just feels like you took it as deep as you ever have," I said with a sigh.

She kissed me, then went back to it. 

"Do you like sucking my cock, sweetie?"  I asked.

"m-hm!"  she said, in a curt, nice girl way.

I laughed.

"You said that in the nicest, nice-girl way..."

"I know I did," she said pulling my cock out of her mouth, "It was a joke."

And I felt sheepish.  Eventually I came in her mouth, and she swallowed.  Smoothly, I handed her a bottle of water.

We looked at the stars.

"You know,"  I began, "Looking at all the stars, makes it all look so small, that this recorded moment in history is so tiny, that all the knowledge and learning we have today could totally be wrong.  Everything we ever learned could be wrong.  Because our time frame is so short.  Maybe there's a huge space-whale that comes along every billion year or so and swallows a solar system at a time.  And we just dont know.  Because it happens only every billion years, so there's no way we could know.  Everything you ever learned : wrong.  Its all about the space-whale..."

And Audrey giggled.

And time went on.

 


a template by wicked design

about comment designer archive archives newest diaryland

tml>