Thursday June 16 2011

(this is what my mechanic drinks his coffee out of)

Getting up early at 9:30 a.m. Driving to my trusty mechanic off N Military Highway to have him look at a few things on my wagon. A/C isn’t working because of a corroding hose. No big deal—I rarely use the A/C.

Margot meets me back at the house. She also had to get up early to trek back from Richmond. We plop down in my bed and take a nap…

DREAM: Upstairs in my room of the townhome. It’s understood that I had a bunk bed and a bookshelf set up in the middle of the room. I removed it earlier to free up some space. It feels strange. “I have so much space and don’t know what to do with it.”

☼

Lying next to Margot analyzing a glass bottle of apple cider vinegar sitting atop a shelf. The label on it states it contains MCG, which is understood to be a natural chemical found in the vinegar. She questions it.

I tell her, “Yeah MCG is healthy for you. It detoxifies your body.”

She doesn’t seem convinced.

☼

Driving up the road in my station wagon. I stop because I’ve made a wrong turn I guess. In the passenger seat now and suddenly Anthony’s at the wheel turning around and going back the way we came. He flips on a radio station I already had dialed in—playing an 80’s hair metal jam.

I tell him to “Use that hair you got!” insinuating he should head bang to the music because of his long hair. Thinking more about what I just said, “That’s something my mom would say.” I laugh a little. In my mind I can hear my mom saying, Well that’s nice, in her adorable motherly voice with an emphasis on the “i” in nice.

We arrive back home and walk into the living room. Instead of the white walls that perimeter the house to the outside there’s these big folding plastic transparent doors. I run over and tap the lock with force and magically unlock the latch, then peek out to get a closer look at a car pulling up. It’s a sleek looking Chrysler wagon, a rare model that I’ve never seen before, very long and expansive. It’s been raining or it still is but only drizzling. Australian guys hop out of the car and start lugging in miscellaneous food, mainly half eaten pizza pies that still seem to still be hot. Inside the house I hear them talking, “Glad we got that before it went through the compactor.” Apparently they went dumpster diving somewhere.

“Where’d you get this stuff?” I ask.

One guy answers, “The F,” which is understood to be some kind of fast food place in Australia. He mentions something about how there’s no law against this here. I grab a piping hot slice of cheese pizza and take a big bite.

Waking up from our nap a little after 1 p.m.

She’s waiting for me to finish recounting my dream so we can leave,

Margot: “Longest dream ever!” “Did you have sex with me in your dream?”

We head to Panera for brunch. Eating a French Toast Bagel with Honey Walnut Cream Cheese, a Pumpkin Muffie, and Orange Juice.

I grab a copy of The Virginian Pilot. “Man, it’s been a while since I’ve looked at the newspaper. Ever since I quit that job I don’t read it anymore.”

Kroger.

Back home.

Anthony’s got the computer stereo cranked to 11 where you can barely hear anything. It just sounds like the speakers are broken.

Me: “What are you deaf?”

Kelley and Rachel are sprawled out on a blanket in the backyard wearing bathing suits.

Business.

Lunch: Tuna Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honest Ade Pomegranate Blueberry.

Watching Harry Brown [2009].

One hour shift at China Wok. 2 orders only while Art takes the bulk of the dinner rush. Sitting down with him while it’s slow. I mention how he’s a black market man. “Art you know a guy that knows a guy for anything.” It’s true.

I grab Anthony and we go to the courts across the street from Wawa. Schooling these kids in basketball. When I say kids, I mean kids, like middle school agers. It’s kind of an entertaining scenario. Remembering when I was that young and what it was like trying to impress everyone around you. There’s Billy (red shirt) the ball hog who takes too much pride in himself, isn’t willing to pass to his unskilled peers. There’s Josh (green shirt) who barely knows what’s going on. There’s Boy #3 (purple shirt) who is literally pulling out his cell phone constantly between plays. Then there’s Boy#4 (brown shirt) on the other side of the court playing by himself. Ball hog Billy doesn’t mind marching over there, stealing the boy’s ball and throwing it as far as he can across the yard. Boy#4 feels angry and helpless because of the unfair class system, which goes unsaid.

Watermelon.

Dinner: Mongolian Style Beef Pasta with Mushrooms, Red Peppers, and String Beans. Challah Bread with Butter.

Out on the back porch sharing Black Cloves with Darren, Kevin, and Richie. What else can we do but listen to Darren preach about his great plans to teach elementary school kids how to grow their own vegetables. I try to facilitate the conversation.

The queen shows up clad in short black shorts and a black Harpoon Larry’s tank top—she looks good.

I pick up an Erotica Anais Nin novel called Little Birds and read a random passage:

“Her body, freed from veils, shone with the whiteness of pearl. Maria closed her eyes as if she wanted to flee from the shame of her nakedness. On the smooth sheet, her graceful form intoxicated the eyes of the artist.”

Snuggling, tickling, kneading, touching, squeezing.

She has this unusual ability to fall asleep in 15 seconds whereas it takes me 15 minutes. Sleep tight, baby. Join you later.

Eating Strawberry Yogurt with Fresh Mango.

Research.

Sleep 3:20 a.m.