Summer came and went without a warning. Alright, it's a pasty old lyric from some 80's pop ballad, but hey. it fits. it was warm and windy and i was just getting used 2 swimmin' in my skivvies up in northern california.
Stayin in Redding, wherever the hell that is, with Steve-O, a real hard-liner, vaguely honduran with a hint of pissed-off LA whiteness, and a mexican named Hard-LOS, who looked like John Gotti but with the audible stylings of Cheech Marin; there were times i felt the sensation that i was in a prison or something of the like.
Steve-O would sleep on the couch, somewhat like a small apartment's warden, between the spare bedroom LOS and i shared (alternating nights in and out-- the smells ever looming), and would mostly make garbled comments as one passed, or would fart into the air and name it. he refused to sleep in his room, it seemed it was there merely for show, and by no means intended on turning air conditioning on during the hot sweaty day. He would however pump it smooth at 59 degrees just around morning when it was roughly the same temp outside. I would fall asleep sweating and wake up freezing. what a summer vacation, indeed.
Redding was dull and quite forgettable. Everywhere u look, there are trees and spiders and white boys with no shirts on, high on gack and car grease. that's not the bad part or anything. that's just the city. Then around ten in the p.m. every single night if u listen really well, u can hear it. absolute fucking nothingness. city of blank. even on the weekends.
I would wake up, swim, do laundry, walk around selling cable and shit, then swim, jerk off and swim and do laundry; it was silly as fuck. Couldn't believe i was jaggin it, especially cuz i figured in a town where there ain't much 2 do, and behind every door i knocked, lived a pregnant teen with 2 kids, i assumed i would be gettin mucho ass...cuz when there's scarce an activity 2 hinder in any given American city, u can usually count on a whole lotta easy fuckin. i predicted i'd hit a landslide of ass. a fuckload.
and secondly, 4 fuck's sake, i was one of a few local men who had all his teeth in his mouth. Having all of your teeth in Redding is rare. it makes you part of an elite community. or so I would've thought. but still my weenis saw no asscake. not much anyway...
Ok, there was the landlord's daughter, Elvisetta, but she preferred cigarette chain-smoke on a spider-littered porch 2 lickin me sexy. And there was the puerto-rican, possibly the only pr in those parts, who took me 2 the club, paid for my drinks, got us a pill and passed out nekkid. I pretended 4 three mins i was the good guy in the drifter movie, tucked her in, kissed her on her sweaty forehead and laggered the hard miles back to the salami den.
As i entered, Steve-O was rubbing extra virgin olive oils onto his bloated belly and LOS was laying on a deflated air mattress, both passing mad flatulent winds and hard-lying on sexual escapades. Entourage played loudly in the background, but the convo between these superior minds reigned warlock ass.
STEVE: ah, are u kiddin me? the door opens and i swear to God's nipples, she was all of 14 but had titties like she was 15... ya get me?
LOS: uh huh..uh huh..heh heh..the good ones, huh?
STEVE: aww, u have no idea, dipshit. her teeth were a bit fucked up, u know? but what're u gonna do? thats regional. her boobies tho my man, bro-YARE, yes indeedy. yes. melon scoops lovely and youthful. she was like 'yer name steve-o right? wanna shower with me?'-- i was like fuck...
both bust up laughing. steve mentions he may have shit his pants a bit on that last one. he hops up and exits stage left. I'm entering the open door to the apartment, so he yells something as he springs away clutching the back of his jeans like he can PLUG that brown spout.
he yells, 'here comes godzilla' or something, but i'm not sure if he means me or if he's referring 2 the blast from his tailpipe.
I scurry past LOS quick as humanly possible, LOS beginning a long-winded tale no doubt, and avoiding the speech feast of bullshit, I slam myself into the spare.
Redding. Everyone was friendly. long as the convos were short-lived and didn't require much thought. then it could get hasty. Bored out of my mind, finally one night after reading every book i had twice, i caught a greyhound bus back 2 vegas. never do that btw. never take a greyhound unless u are a masochist and deeply into self-abuse. narrow seats, stink-pitted travelers, crying bebe kids, the scent of ass on tap; big mistake. i rented a 300 this last time and even thought, I shoulda just stayed in LV...people dream of living here. the locals dream of escaping..we leave and come back. sick habit.
i'm done with this beast...~Gabe Alberro
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