Wonder-Lust

Left another movie in Capitol Hill park alone. It was an adventure movie; an apparent recurrent theme this month.

I had to pee.

Plus, all the cuddling blanketed couples along with a blank telephone pissed me off.

Making a wrong turn down some desolate alley.

An enormous neon sign at the end of the lane danced with the breeze. Or so it had appeared.

A giant tree with the letters REDWOOD greeted me, accompanied by a plethora of blinking rainbow lights. I told myself I was just going in to use the rest room. Thats it.

Making my way to the back of the bar, my already excruciating headache worsened. Ever since the San Diego police department lost my glasses two weeks ago (real gentleman!) I haven't been able to see, let alone quell the attempts my brain have been making to escape from my skull.

I don't blame it.

I stumbled out of the ladies room, and bumped into a man three times my size.

Im sorry man, I'm just trying to leave.

It's alright. Are you okay?

Yeah, just an awful headache. Its doing me no good to be in here, so if you'll excuse me...

The lanky blonde that was all leg and no ass he was with whirled around and started rapidly digging in her purse.

HEADACHE YOU SAID? Im surprised she could hear anything over the thump of house music. I nodded my head.

I HAVE SOMETHING THAT WILL HELP. I'VE HAD MY PERIOD ALL WEEK SO, I HAVE SOMETHING!

(With the lights out, it's less dangerous)

She takes out a white bottle with a blue and yellow looking label stuck to it. Advil I assume.

I assume.

HOW MANY DO YOU WANT SWEETHEART?

I stuck out my palm.

Three oblong blue pills crowded my Fortune and Health lines.

Those palm-reader pamphlets I got in Vegas and LA would have probably helped right about now.

Common sense wouldn't have hurt either.

( I feel stupid, and contagious)

Since this is Seattle, they served coffee in this bar. I ordered a 16 oz americano.

Black.

As I went to stick the ibuprofen on my tongue, the blonde smacked my elbow.

Down they tumbled.

Plop.

Fizz. (... strange)

Enjoy.

(It's fun to lose, and to pretend. She's over bored and self-assured.)

IM SORRY HUN! HEY! LOOK AT IT THIS WAY, AT LEAST THEY'RE EASIER TO TAKE NOW!

Not entirely sure what she meant by this, I smiled and raised my cup.

Head back.

Liquids down.

Too late.

(Come on over and do the twist. Beat me outta me!)

(One baby to another says, "I'm lucky to have met you")

I felt the hairs on my butt-cheek get pulled up with the thin cold breeze that was pouring in the window.

I knew I wasn't anywhere.

Or, was I everywhere?

My nude body was sweaty, and stuck to something else that was also nude.

Or made out of vinyl?

Afraid to open my eyes I rolled out of what I assumed was a mattress and found my way to a bathroom.

I opened my eyes in relief to see I was in underwear.

In an unfamiliar bathroom.

Extremely thirsty.

Rummaging through the drawers I found a packaged tooth brush. Ripping it open, I grabbed the Crest and began The Cleanse.

Three blue painkillers.

Shoelaces turned to worms, pulling at my ankles.

Down towards up.

Face on the pavement, granules of asphalt, thousands of sideways jeweled goat eyes.

Shaking my head out of it I spit.

Turning on the water to rinse, I filled my hands with hot water.

It stung my left palm.

Cut it on....

Walking the bridge, above I - 5

Grabbed at the guard rail with my right

Slipped stepping over, when I realized it wasn't a guard rail, but in fiction, the head of a silver cobra.

Traffic flow below me turned into a bubbling rapid of white and red electric neon spaghetti.

Time stopped.

If I let go.....

Then both hands let go

The blonde grabbed my right arm just as my left slid off the metal and caught a jagged edge.

She pulled me back into the road.

Yelling something about suicide?

She was covered in my blood.

That turned into a thousand little hands and began to strangle her.

(Hear the line engine rhyme, there's just one of us blind)

Spit again.

More blood.

I walked back to the room to try and find my clothes.

Hesitant of who I had shared with last night, I cracked open the door.

Nothing but a couch covered in plastic, a desk, and my clothes strewn about as if a mad-man had ripped them off himself.

Mad-woman.

Static thumped in the corner.

B-side Portishead record.

I quickly dressed.

It was bleak and solidly grey outside.

It could be eight in the morning, or four in the afternoon.

I grabbed the old brass doorknob.

A note taped to the peephole caught my eye;

MORNING! HOPE YOUR HEAD IS FEELING BETTER! I'D OFFER YOU SOME TYLENOL FOR YOUR HAND BUT WE DON'T BELIEVE IN TAKING THAT KIND OF STUFF.

........uh

THERE'S GAUSE AND MEDICAL TAPE IN THE BATHROOM. HERE'S OUR PHONE NUMBER. I HOPE THE COUCH WASNT TOO UNCOMFORTABLE FOR YOU LAST NIGHT... BUT YOU JUST PASSED OUT SO WE LEFT YOU THERE AND WENT TO SLEEP.

-Ron and LAURIE

Seems as though the blonde wrote the letter.

All capitals.

All yelling.

Ah, shit.

(Come, doused in mud. Soaked in bleach. As I want you to be.)

I fell asleep, faced mushed up against an already greasy bus window pane, and missed my stop.

Clicking the "Lock" button on my phone to light up the screen, nothing awaits me.

God damnit. Not again.

I'll take advantage while you hang me out to dry,

But I can't see you every night

No, I can't see you every night.

Free