"How You Doin', Man?"
Sun August 11
Ellsworth had his going away party last night before leaving for Harvard next week. Kristin sat on my lap for a good part of the night at Hennessey's after we left the party, and she put her arm around my waist on the way there, so I put mine around her shoulders. On the way home in the car, I stroked her neck. She was supposed to have been going down to see Jim, but he was wasted and had had too many people to entertain, so he lost out. You gotta wonder about such a chick. "Johnny, that guy's loaded, isn't he?" she's asked back in Malibu on the Fourth. Her brother called her a gold digger. Mac body-slammed Thing. I gave Frodo 20 bucks to give to Mardi for her birthday and 30 for her to keep for her own. Patricia asked about the CBEST so she can become a substitute teacher. Peachtree left early cuz he was golfing in the morning. Maria drove home. I told the centipede joke a couple times.
In the day , Shirelle and I drove across town to the Southwest Museum looking for a place to get breakfast along the way. We drove east on Olympic and north on Broadway and didn't see much. Finally we stopped at a Colima Mexican place and I had some huevos rancheros and Michelle #29 tamal, taco, and enchilada. Plus she ordered a margarita. The little old lady who was the mesera took a while getting the margarita. After we had eaten, she took a while bringing the check, too. Shirelle whined that she was tired of sitting there. I told her to quit acting like a baby and went back to reading the paper, a story abou the army's presence in keeping stability, rather than the police, which was my exact take after our trip in November. On the way out to the car there was an old black junkie, the grime on his ebon skin making him even darker, shirtless, shoeless (He'd've been unable to get service in 7-11), pants unbuttoned, standing in the ivy below the freeway, poking a syringe into a sore on his arm. I looked at him and he looked at me, and he said in a strong deep voice I didn't expect, "How you doing, man?" Then he asked for some change. I said sorry and got in the car.
The museum was kind of cheesy. There were a few good indian artifacts, but mostly it was a lot of junky trinkets. I did my sketches. Shirelle informed me that she had a job to go to. Now she tells me. I rushed through til I was done. We went home. Carlos came over about four, and later Mac, and then Thing, and we all piled into the Insanity Pepper's Montero and drove down to Manhattan Beach.
Ellsworth had his going away party last night before leaving for Harvard next week. Kristin sat on my lap for a good part of the night at Hennessey's after we left the party, and she put her arm around my waist on the way there, so I put mine around her shoulders. On the way home in the car, I stroked her neck. She was supposed to have been going down to see Jim, but he was wasted and had had too many people to entertain, so he lost out. You gotta wonder about such a chick. "Johnny, that guy's loaded, isn't he?" she's asked back in Malibu on the Fourth. Her brother called her a gold digger. Mac body-slammed Thing. I gave Frodo 20 bucks to give to Mardi for her birthday and 30 for her to keep for her own. Patricia asked about the CBEST so she can become a substitute teacher. Peachtree left early cuz he was golfing in the morning. Maria drove home. I told the centipede joke a couple times.
In the day , Shirelle and I drove across town to the Southwest Museum looking for a place to get breakfast along the way. We drove east on Olympic and north on Broadway and didn't see much. Finally we stopped at a Colima Mexican place and I had some huevos rancheros and Michelle #29 tamal, taco, and enchilada. Plus she ordered a margarita. The little old lady who was the mesera took a while getting the margarita. After we had eaten, she took a while bringing the check, too. Shirelle whined that she was tired of sitting there. I told her to quit acting like a baby and went back to reading the paper, a story abou the army's presence in keeping stability, rather than the police, which was my exact take after our trip in November. On the way out to the car there was an old black junkie, the grime on his ebon skin making him even darker, shirtless, shoeless (He'd've been unable to get service in 7-11), pants unbuttoned, standing in the ivy below the freeway, poking a syringe into a sore on his arm. I looked at him and he looked at me, and he said in a strong deep voice I didn't expect, "How you doing, man?" Then he asked for some change. I said sorry and got in the car.
The museum was kind of cheesy. There were a few good indian artifacts, but mostly it was a lot of junky trinkets. I did my sketches. Shirelle informed me that she had a job to go to. Now she tells me. I rushed through til I was done. We went home. Carlos came over about four, and later Mac, and then Thing, and we all piled into the Insanity Pepper's Montero and drove down to Manhattan Beach.
posted by johnz at 7:50 PM
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