Tuesday, January 18, 2011

I Introduce Frances and Fat Cyndi Lauper

So this is a bit more recent, like a few days ago recent. I had been tied up with shit all day and it continued into the night. First, Frances’ brother Julio show’s up and he’s sooooo fucking gakked I could hardly stand to look at him. That fool had to have been up for at least a week, the tats on his face stood out in bas relief he was so pale.

I’m thinking that these names are unfamiliar, maybe I mentioned Frances at some point but he didn’t figure too prominently in my day to day until the past few months. He’s an H head I met through Cam.
Little did I know that opening myself up to Frances would mean welcoming his extensive and equally drug addled family as well. They’re hella cool, it’s just that they have no concept of boundaries and if they happen to be walking by my door at 4am, well they think it’s an awesome idea to stop and knock on it. I don’t bitch too much because getting woken at stupid hours is made a lot more bearable when the dudes waking you have lots of drugs. I’m so easily coerced when it comes to shit like that, not always but mostly, yeah.
So back to last night, Julio was in my living room using the phone, the tweeker broad down the street had booted him out and he was looking for a place to hole up. As much as I like J, I wasn’t offering up any hospitality, that fool is running from some serious shit and even having him in my doorway puts me in a bad spot. So as I don’t fancy getting shot and/or arrested, I try to keep his visits short and sweet. I would probly do a lot more for one of my friends back home but lets get real, I’ve only known him for a few months, not quite ready to go all out for a casual acquaintance.
I sat back and watched Julio geek out, listening to him clear his throat over and over without even realizing he was doing it. A sure sign you’ve been up too damn long. He was trying to get Frances on the line, calling from my phone because F was ignoring his cell (for good reason no doubt) and he always answers when I call.
He was out of range and J went out back to smoke and bullshit with Casey. Casey was having one of those rare good drunk moments and was more that happy to smoke and listen while Julio told the story of his cheating old lady and her whoring ways. I’m sure they had a lot to talk about haha.
Frances called while they were out there and I found out that he was on his way back from Bernalillo with some H. He wanted to know if J was gonna split so he could come by and share. He loves his little bro but he also would like to avoid getting shot/arrested. Julio is a raid waiting to happen and nobody likes that, especially a Dopefiend who just came up big time.
I told him I was working on it and that he should cruise by as soon as he got into town. About 10 mins later he called back and told me to meet him at the VFW. I was reluctant and told him so; whining, "I don't wanna go to the VFW, it's musty in there, it smells like 'Born on the Fourth of July!' "
"I'm supposed to know what that smells like?" He asked impatiently.
"Amputees and broken dreams."
He laughed and said, "That ain't right girl, you ain't right!"
"Yeah, that's what they tell me and just cause it ain't right don't mean it ain't funny. So what's at the VFW and why do I hafta go there?"
"Well me and the chiva for starters and my ride needs to go there to talk to her homeboy."
"Stellar, how long?"
"We're on the Bisti, give me 20."
"Fucker." I grumbled.
He laughed and hung up.
I got ready and slipped out the door, I had quietly told Casey where I was headed and that he should keep the info to himself as long as Julio was around. If he found out I was meeting up with Frances, he would be right there with me and that would be inconvenient.
I started the 10 minute drive to the hall, it was around 8pm and I wasn't looking forward to getting there first, so I took my time. When I finally pulled up, F was leaning against a white car waiting for me. As I got closer I noticed he wasn't so much leaning on the car as it was holding him up. Fool was wasted!
He was so loaded he still had the rig tucked behind his ear from the last shot. The girl he was riding with had already gone inside so we went to my car and fixed up so I could get a taste while we were here. It was decent, not bad at all and by the time we walked through the door I was feeling pretty damn good. So good that Lieutenant Dan himself could've peed on my foot and I wouldn't have cared less.
He looked around and then led me towards the back where his friend was talking to some guy in the corner. She looked like fat Cyndi Lauper and he looked like he had just missed the last bus for the Phish festival. That's right, a hemp wearing, dreadlock having, putrid patchouli smelling hippie! All except the patchouli are tolerable on their own but together...yuck! And it's because Patchouli smells like someone took a dump in wet dirt, in case anyone was wondering.
Well this numb nuts had been bathing in the stuff, I dared not get closer lest the odor transfer itself to my hair and clothing, it has a way of doing that, nasty stuff! He had that stupefied drawl that comes from smoking copious amounts of weed, kinda like Matt T (anyone who knows him understands). It's a cross between a surfer and a stoned goat, it has a weird baaaaaaah-ing sound whenever certain vowels are introduced. Like Matt and his,"Whaaaaaaaaaat's Uuuuuuuuuuuup?" This guy had the same thing going on.
So I leaned against the wall and tried to ignore everything but the feeling of well being coursing through me. So much so that when I was asked if I would drive the guy to Hilltop, I uh-huh'd without knowing what I was agreeing to.
Frances shook me into a semi-awake state and walked me outside. Little did I know that my soon to be passenger was right behind us. Once we stopped moving, the smell gave him away. I poked Frances and asked him why! Why was wet dirt dump following us?
“Because you said you’d drive him.” He replied, looking at me like I was stupid, “Don’t sweat it, I’m coming with.”
“Oh, that changes everything. It’s ok everyone, Frances is coming with.” My previous good mood was fast disappearing.
I got a dirty look in return and we all climbed into the car. My first thought was that I was never gonna get rid of that smell. I considered making Frances remove his coat so Phish fucker could sit on it but the look on his face said I needn't bother asking.
I lit a cigarette and was dismayed and disgusted when it tasted exactly like, yeah you guessed it. I was not happy! I pulled out of the dirt lot and we were on our way, I had to roll the damn windows down because the heater was making it so much more pungent. We drove towards the casino and the back road that would deposit us a couple miles away from Hilltop gas station.
Not 10 minutes into the drive I heard, "Heeeeeeey maaaaaaamaaaaa, can you roll up the windows? It's cooooooooold."
"Nope" I replied, leaning my nose ever closer to the rush of cold air blowing in on my side.
"Aren't you freeeeeeezing?" it asked.
"Not so much as I am gagging on your par fume." I didn't quite mumble.
Frances, who had been drinking chocolate milk, snorted, shot a stream of it out his nose and had to scramble in the glove box for a napkin. I felt somewhat jealous as the burn and smell of Nesquik would have been a Godsend at that point .
"My whaaaaaaaaat?" questioned my new friend.
Fran snorted again and I gave him a snarky look before I said, "Your odiferous aroma, it's vile."
"Whaddaya mean maaaaaaan, I'm clean, took a shower this morning."
"Well you shoulda gone easier on the Dead head hair tonic"
I gave up being polite and said, "The smell of your essential oil is scorching my nose hairs, hippie! How much clearer can I be? You smell like a musky fart."
He had no answer for that.
Frances thought to better the situation by spraying the small can of car freshener I kept in the console. It did not. It was so noxious that even with the windows down we all started coughing.
"Fran, you asshole," I sputtered, "Now it smells like someone shit a patchouli pina colada!"
This brought on a fresh coughing fit from all of us but luckily we had reached Hilltop and what I thought was the end of my association with our malodorous passenger. Not so, good friends, not so. Before the night was over I would be cursing the existence of fat Cyndi Lauper and swearing vengeance on her bulbous blond head.