(no subject)
Yesterday I went for a job interview at a local grocery store in North Beach. I really like that part of the city; it’s fairly clean, and looks more European than any other part of town. I guess the Italians moved from Hunters Point to North Beach after the Great Depression, but I’m not sure, so I’ve heard.
The job interview went well, and if they offer me the job I am going to take it. I’m not going to get my hopes up, but I’m going to keep my fingers crossed. I really think it went well. After the interview, I tried to find the 12 bus line in China town, but I was not able to. Some man in a suit gave me the wrong directions, a bicycle courier ignored my question, and two Chinese men pretended that I did not exist. I decided to walk to the fourteen bus on Mission Street, and I waited two minutes. I think the bus fair is 1.25, but the driver never questions it when I only insert one dollar into the toll machine. I called a lady about a sublet on 21st and Mission, right off the 14 bus line.
She was standing in front of the steps and her big blue house. She called me by my birth name. Unfortunately, I feel like I need to tell people my birth name for official business like sublets, jobs, and a few other things that I can’t think of. we walked up the staircase, and she opened the door to a bedroom crammed with shitty art and a mattress on the floor. Fruit flies lingered above the bed, and she sat by the window to give me the run down.
She said we’d split the time we’d have in the bedroom, and half the time I would need to sleep on the couch. Then she told me she would not allow guests in the house. Who was she fooling? No wonder why she called and told me that nobody wanted to take her up on the offer, especially after she added 300 for a deposit and toiletries. I smoked marijuana with her and walked on Hoff street to 22nd and Mission. That’s when she left me to write a receipt out, and I was making my way to 24th and Mission to pull 675$ out of my account. I felt like she was just going to hustle me out of my deposit money by the end of the month. 375$ to 675$ after the interview to share a room with a woman in her mid forties? I forgot to mention that all she talked about was her art and her god damn writing. I had a feeling that she’d find something wrong with me by the end of the month. Her skin looked very unhealthy, she was wearing a long sleeve shirt. Maybe she was a junky? Has she always used desperate people to pay her rent? Sophia met me in front of the drug store and took me to meet her mother, her two boys, and her mothers boyfriend for Dinner at her mothers house by Delores Park.
I felt so weird being high. It wasn’t as nice as it was when I was in Santa Cruz watching stupid television shows and laughing with normal people. Sophia had to meet her friend for coffee on Valencia before dinner, so I sat in Delores Park while the sun was still shining. Before going to the park, I stopped at a liquor store for a liter of water. I watched young people act cool all around me. It can be a little uncomfortable walking south on Delores to the top of the park. All the park people rest like they’re in a grass stadium and I feel like at least one of them is picking me apart, judging me, or just watching me. I’d be watching them if I were sitting where they were.
Dogs barked, dogs humped one another. People were comfortable not wearing t shirts, people were drinking wine, and people were drinking beer. Couples were kissing, couples were holding hands, and I thought about them breaking up. I watched them stand with one another and tried to figure out who would be more miserable after the break up, then I tried to figure out who would be happier. My telephone was beeping. It was dying. I drank my liter of water quickly, and went to piss in the park toilet. I waited in the cue in front of the door. A big man had to piss as much as I did. He hollered, “Man, mo’fucka’s must have prostate problems!” He seemed very angry about waiting in the cue. I wasn’t angry, I just had a burning desire to piss. I assume he had places to be. After the short wait I walked to Muddy Waters. Sophia and her friend weren’t there. I walked to 21st, and there she was on the other side of the street. We walked to her mothers house, Basil was in the living room, Lucas was in the bathroom. Her mother and her mothers young boyfriend were listening to Augustus Pablo in the kitchen. She was complaining in French about the song her young Caribbean boyfriend was playing over and over. He introduced himself as Isa, then he sang a reggae song for me in the living room. He asked about my job, and he laughed when I told him about it. He asked me a lot of personal questions. He also did not understand how a male and a female could just be friends. Lucas, Basil, Sophia and I sat at the table eating. They had pasta with meat sauce, and I had noodles with butter and hot sauce. After dinner we walked to the 12 bus stop, a few streets beyond 16th and Mission. Sometimes I was sitting, sometimes I was standing. Sophia changed Lucas’s shoe laces, and Basil pretended they were whips. I wanted a cigarette, but I don’t like to smoke in front of her children. The 12 wasn’t very eventful, I ended up dreading my life the whole way back to China Town. After numerous attempts to try to contact people, I ended up going out alone.
I purchased two forties of malt liquor and sat on the steps at Broadway and Kearny. People do really stupid things on those steps. I do really stupid things on those steps. Janis Joplin was caught shooting up on those steps in 1967. You can see the east bay bridge, and the San Francisco sky line from that spot. Andy came and sat with me, he’s a fellow cum scrubber. Andy works at the Lusty Lady. The Lusty Lady is a worker owned live peep show on Kearny and Broadway, next to Larry Flynt’s Hustler Gentlemen’s Club, and the other fuck palaces in the area. That whole intersection is filthy. I hate sex. I hate men. I hate myself.
Andy and I agreed to go in on a shitty room in North Beach together for a week. We are going to take it one week at a time. He finished his Sparks and went to work. Andy works the night shift, from midnight to eight in the morning.
I woke up at six in the morning. I walked into the kitchen and drank sugar lime water that the boys prepared the evening before. My stomach hurt, my blood felt like it was boiling, and my stomach felt like a sand box. I called someone I knows mother, and she made me feel better. She usually always makes me feel better, and she always picks up. She’s the only person in my telephone book who will pick up 98 percent of the time. Sometimes I call her without anything to talk about. I called Allison, no answer. I called Crystal from the east bay, no answer. I called Glaiza, no answer. I called my father, no answer, my mother, no answer, my brother, no answer. Sophia watched me sit miserably in the kitchen. Her former lover, Rico, left for an appointment, and her children needed to be up for school. I left before tea, and walked to the peep show where Andy was. On my way, I stopped at an SRO (weekly hotel) in China Town. I walked up the steps, the smell was unbearable. I’m sure the layers of grease on the wall had to be an inch thick. When I arrived on the first floor, I heard a chicken clucking. I looked to my right and through a small window I watched a chicken get its head cut off. I immediately turned around and walked back down the stairs. I walked around there corner to the peep show to see Andy. He was playing his guitar at the front desk and I suggested that we go find a room in the area for the week. After he clocked out, we walked to the liquor store. We purchased Sparks malt beverages and cigarettes for breakfast. Andy told me about how him and his ex girlfriend had sex with one another in strange places. He told me about Wisconsin, and Florida, and all the different shit holes he’s lived at here in the city. We waited around in the lobby of the peep show for the courier to bring his pay check. I missed a phone call from my father, and his fellow worker was listening to The Natural Born Killers sound track. I always get confused about the first song on that album. My brain knows it’s Leonard Cohen, but I always say Tom Waits. The Lusty Lady has their share of whack jobs, but after lingering for two hours they weren’t that bad.
After his check showed up, we walked to The Marconi and a Punjabi woman showed us a large room. Andy informed me that Allen Ginsberg stayed here years ago. I don’t mind sharing a room with Andy, he’s not shady at all, and he has a guitar. On our way to the bank for the deposit money, we walked through an alley. All the bums seem to know Andy. I can’t help looking at their teeth when they speak to him. One man was wearing a black hat that Andy gave to another person. So we had to walk to the park so Andy could ask if the guy in the alley stole it. The man in the park said he could have it, and he doesn’t want it back because it probably has bugs. I dry heaved after leaving the park, and we ended up giving that nice woman our deposit money for a large room. Today I am going to take a shower, pick up a few things from Sophia’s place, find something to eat, cut the new grey laces on my tennis shoes, find a good book to read at City Lights across the street from our place, and try not to think about things I would rather not think about.
The job interview went well, and if they offer me the job I am going to take it. I’m not going to get my hopes up, but I’m going to keep my fingers crossed. I really think it went well. After the interview, I tried to find the 12 bus line in China town, but I was not able to. Some man in a suit gave me the wrong directions, a bicycle courier ignored my question, and two Chinese men pretended that I did not exist. I decided to walk to the fourteen bus on Mission Street, and I waited two minutes. I think the bus fair is 1.25, but the driver never questions it when I only insert one dollar into the toll machine. I called a lady about a sublet on 21st and Mission, right off the 14 bus line.
She was standing in front of the steps and her big blue house. She called me by my birth name. Unfortunately, I feel like I need to tell people my birth name for official business like sublets, jobs, and a few other things that I can’t think of. we walked up the staircase, and she opened the door to a bedroom crammed with shitty art and a mattress on the floor. Fruit flies lingered above the bed, and she sat by the window to give me the run down.
She said we’d split the time we’d have in the bedroom, and half the time I would need to sleep on the couch. Then she told me she would not allow guests in the house. Who was she fooling? No wonder why she called and told me that nobody wanted to take her up on the offer, especially after she added 300 for a deposit and toiletries. I smoked marijuana with her and walked on Hoff street to 22nd and Mission. That’s when she left me to write a receipt out, and I was making my way to 24th and Mission to pull 675$ out of my account. I felt like she was just going to hustle me out of my deposit money by the end of the month. 375$ to 675$ after the interview to share a room with a woman in her mid forties? I forgot to mention that all she talked about was her art and her god damn writing. I had a feeling that she’d find something wrong with me by the end of the month. Her skin looked very unhealthy, she was wearing a long sleeve shirt. Maybe she was a junky? Has she always used desperate people to pay her rent? Sophia met me in front of the drug store and took me to meet her mother, her two boys, and her mothers boyfriend for Dinner at her mothers house by Delores Park.
I felt so weird being high. It wasn’t as nice as it was when I was in Santa Cruz watching stupid television shows and laughing with normal people. Sophia had to meet her friend for coffee on Valencia before dinner, so I sat in Delores Park while the sun was still shining. Before going to the park, I stopped at a liquor store for a liter of water. I watched young people act cool all around me. It can be a little uncomfortable walking south on Delores to the top of the park. All the park people rest like they’re in a grass stadium and I feel like at least one of them is picking me apart, judging me, or just watching me. I’d be watching them if I were sitting where they were.
Dogs barked, dogs humped one another. People were comfortable not wearing t shirts, people were drinking wine, and people were drinking beer. Couples were kissing, couples were holding hands, and I thought about them breaking up. I watched them stand with one another and tried to figure out who would be more miserable after the break up, then I tried to figure out who would be happier. My telephone was beeping. It was dying. I drank my liter of water quickly, and went to piss in the park toilet. I waited in the cue in front of the door. A big man had to piss as much as I did. He hollered, “Man, mo’fucka’s must have prostate problems!” He seemed very angry about waiting in the cue. I wasn’t angry, I just had a burning desire to piss. I assume he had places to be. After the short wait I walked to Muddy Waters. Sophia and her friend weren’t there. I walked to 21st, and there she was on the other side of the street. We walked to her mothers house, Basil was in the living room, Lucas was in the bathroom. Her mother and her mothers young boyfriend were listening to Augustus Pablo in the kitchen. She was complaining in French about the song her young Caribbean boyfriend was playing over and over. He introduced himself as Isa, then he sang a reggae song for me in the living room. He asked about my job, and he laughed when I told him about it. He asked me a lot of personal questions. He also did not understand how a male and a female could just be friends. Lucas, Basil, Sophia and I sat at the table eating. They had pasta with meat sauce, and I had noodles with butter and hot sauce. After dinner we walked to the 12 bus stop, a few streets beyond 16th and Mission. Sometimes I was sitting, sometimes I was standing. Sophia changed Lucas’s shoe laces, and Basil pretended they were whips. I wanted a cigarette, but I don’t like to smoke in front of her children. The 12 wasn’t very eventful, I ended up dreading my life the whole way back to China Town. After numerous attempts to try to contact people, I ended up going out alone.
I purchased two forties of malt liquor and sat on the steps at Broadway and Kearny. People do really stupid things on those steps. I do really stupid things on those steps. Janis Joplin was caught shooting up on those steps in 1967. You can see the east bay bridge, and the San Francisco sky line from that spot. Andy came and sat with me, he’s a fellow cum scrubber. Andy works at the Lusty Lady. The Lusty Lady is a worker owned live peep show on Kearny and Broadway, next to Larry Flynt’s Hustler Gentlemen’s Club, and the other fuck palaces in the area. That whole intersection is filthy. I hate sex. I hate men. I hate myself.
Andy and I agreed to go in on a shitty room in North Beach together for a week. We are going to take it one week at a time. He finished his Sparks and went to work. Andy works the night shift, from midnight to eight in the morning.
I woke up at six in the morning. I walked into the kitchen and drank sugar lime water that the boys prepared the evening before. My stomach hurt, my blood felt like it was boiling, and my stomach felt like a sand box. I called someone I knows mother, and she made me feel better. She usually always makes me feel better, and she always picks up. She’s the only person in my telephone book who will pick up 98 percent of the time. Sometimes I call her without anything to talk about. I called Allison, no answer. I called Crystal from the east bay, no answer. I called Glaiza, no answer. I called my father, no answer, my mother, no answer, my brother, no answer. Sophia watched me sit miserably in the kitchen. Her former lover, Rico, left for an appointment, and her children needed to be up for school. I left before tea, and walked to the peep show where Andy was. On my way, I stopped at an SRO (weekly hotel) in China Town. I walked up the steps, the smell was unbearable. I’m sure the layers of grease on the wall had to be an inch thick. When I arrived on the first floor, I heard a chicken clucking. I looked to my right and through a small window I watched a chicken get its head cut off. I immediately turned around and walked back down the stairs. I walked around there corner to the peep show to see Andy. He was playing his guitar at the front desk and I suggested that we go find a room in the area for the week. After he clocked out, we walked to the liquor store. We purchased Sparks malt beverages and cigarettes for breakfast. Andy told me about how him and his ex girlfriend had sex with one another in strange places. He told me about Wisconsin, and Florida, and all the different shit holes he’s lived at here in the city. We waited around in the lobby of the peep show for the courier to bring his pay check. I missed a phone call from my father, and his fellow worker was listening to The Natural Born Killers sound track. I always get confused about the first song on that album. My brain knows it’s Leonard Cohen, but I always say Tom Waits. The Lusty Lady has their share of whack jobs, but after lingering for two hours they weren’t that bad.
After his check showed up, we walked to The Marconi and a Punjabi woman showed us a large room. Andy informed me that Allen Ginsberg stayed here years ago. I don’t mind sharing a room with Andy, he’s not shady at all, and he has a guitar. On our way to the bank for the deposit money, we walked through an alley. All the bums seem to know Andy. I can’t help looking at their teeth when they speak to him. One man was wearing a black hat that Andy gave to another person. So we had to walk to the park so Andy could ask if the guy in the alley stole it. The man in the park said he could have it, and he doesn’t want it back because it probably has bugs. I dry heaved after leaving the park, and we ended up giving that nice woman our deposit money for a large room. Today I am going to take a shower, pick up a few things from Sophia’s place, find something to eat, cut the new grey laces on my tennis shoes, find a good book to read at City Lights across the street from our place, and try not to think about things I would rather not think about.