(no subject)
It’s easy after the first day. It’s even easier after two days. Then it’s no sweat after a week, two weeks, and sometimes even longer. Then something happens and it’s back to the beginning again. Even after countless attempts, sobriety is isolating, but it is always satisfying.
This morning I woke up early and rode my bicycle from North Beach to the Mission. On my way out the door the Punjabi woman gave me a look like I was too bright to look at. “Do you owe me money today or do you owe me money tomorrow?”
Neither.
“When?”
Wednesday.
“Oh, okay.”
I walked past the piss puddle at the bottom of the steps. The carpets in hallways at the Marconi single resident occupant weekly establishment are stained and covered in office floor plastic. I don’t know why management decided to do that. I don’t know why some people keep their furniture covered in plastic wrap either. Are they waiting for someone important to come over? Are they ever going to lift the plastic off the stained carpet? What are people waiting for when they leave plastic wrap on their sofas and recliners?
I rode past the warf, to Market, took a left, then a right on Mission, through Otis to 15th and Mission, right on the one way street to meet friends for coffee and home made cookies. I had trouble sleeping after work last night. It was my last night.
Tex sang a song for me in the fluff room. He has a good voice. I’m not really into the music he likes. I took a photograph with Jeremy, he’s a good guy; he let me sleep on his floor once. It was Mothers Day, nobody really wanted to jerk off or pay for a prostitute. Even though that was my last night, I’m probably going to keep myself available to cover for people, and I’m going to help Martin pull up the carpet in the booths. If I’m available, I’ll cover during holidays and gay pride. The highlight of the evening was at midnight. Isaac was dancing alone on stage, nobody was in the theatre, and I was doing his lights from the booth. He’s a funny guy. He’s a young Asian. He turns more tricks than any of the other guys because he’s uninhibited and willing to do just about everything. Fat old white queens eat that shit up. He always wants me to play the latest garbage. I played Hannah Montana songs for him from the booth, track eighteen.
Two young women walked in with their mothers. Jeremy advised them that only one more entertainer was going to perform, but they were too excited to listen. They had no idea baby Isaac was going to be on stage. They probably thought some garlic breath muscle head, protein munching prick like Decca would be performing. I felt bad pulling their tickets from the machine, I didn’t make eye contact with them while I was stamping their wrists with the invisible stamp and collecting their money. I went back into the booth, and Isaac started clapping his hands as the four women sat in the corner. He went to the back, grabbed a gay porn mag, showed the women, and began to masturbate to it on stage. Sherman came into the DJ booth with me and we were both laughing at how excited Isaac was to act so strange. He poured lubricant all over himself, including his hair. Half way through the women handed him a few fives and immediately left the building. Isaac continued to masturbate to the porn until he was finished. I announced him off the stage, and announced that he would be entering the shower like the routine of every other entertainer. The doors were open in the jerk off booths facing the shower, and on my way to do laundry I tapped on one of the windows. Isaac was drip drying.
What are you doing Isaac? Dry off and go home. You don’t have to be here.
After I finished folding the last of the towels, I went to the drugstore because all the workers wanted candy. It was a goodbye gesture. I was celebrating my time as a porter, a cum scrubber, a ticket sales person, a low paid pimp.
After work I rode home, stopped to talk to Andy and Jodi in the lobby of their work. Then I realized once I got to the door that Andy was at our place sleeping. He had Mothers Day off. He invited his friend from Seattle to come sleep on our floor. I went to the Vietnamese food building a few doors down from our shit hole, and ordered number 49: mixed vegetables and steamed tofu.
Willy is alright, he considers himself a fairy. He asked if we wanted to shoot ketamine with him, but we declined. His trick turner name is Alex, he was a pretty nice guy. I didn’t mind him. He said he was tired of turning tricks, complained about his life just like I do all the time, and then he fell asleep on the linoleum floor.
After meeting up with my friends for coffee and free cookies, I went to the Saint James Infirmary for an STD test. Saint James was closing for three weeks, they told me to take a right on 8th and Market, go a few blocks down to building 334. I arrived at City Clinic after a short bicycle ride. If you ever want to receive rapid results, tell the nurse that you’ve been turning tricks, you’re homeless, and you’ve allowed over seventy men to give you oral sex in the past three months for money. Even though I didn’t need ‘rapid results,’ I did not feel like waiting two weeks for results.
After the test results I rode my bicycle back to my place and walked a couple blocks to Sophia’s place in China Town. We made dinner, and I did laundry, shaved the stubble off my face, and took a shower. She went to the drugstore and I hung out with her two boys at the jungle jim in between the buildings. I asked the boys what the pointy building was called. They called it the Coit tower, but the Coit tower is in North Beach. Basil showed me his tricks on his scooter, and Lucas hit a tennis ball against the wall. I asked them how to say where I live in French, Lucas answered, but Basil was preoccupied. I was going to take Lucas to the baseball game tonight, thankfully I didn’t ask him, because I was too beat to go. I wanted to, but my laundry took almost three hours, and I wanted to go play capture the flag in Union Square. I ended up sleeping through everything, including most of the Giants baseball game. I woke up with a blanket over me in the guest room. Well, it isn’t a guest room. The boys just sleep with Sophia in her room because they don’t like sleeping alone. For dinner Basil had eggs and cereal, Lucas had top ramen with a scrambled eggs in the soup. Sophia and prepared a potato medley and ate vegetarian tamales. After I woke up from my nap I watched the end of the game in the living room. I’m indifferent about the two teams. The Washington Nationals were in town to take on the Giants, and they were crushed like the pentagon. At the end of the game a ball bounced off a seagull in favor of the Giants. I laughed my face off. I truly felt bad for that bird, but I’m sure she died a martyr.
After the game I went to see if anyone was playing basketball, but I should’ve realized how late it was. I walked back to Broadway and Kearny and hung out with a Palestinian shop owner, then I smoked cigarettes on the steps. I called a few friends, most of them are in love or in school, or they think I’m crazy. Justin picked up, and we talked for over an hour. She’s living in Seattle now, and she’s as disgusted with men too. The Marconi was too loud to hang out in tonight. The strip bar below me vibrates the room, and the bright lights shine through the window. I attempted to sleep a few times but it’s tough when shitty booty rap, red hot chili peppers, and that, “I want to fuck you like an animal,” song is played over and over again. The guy working the DJ booth sounds like he’s announcing a dog race, a horse race, or an auction. I walked to the lusty lady to hang out with Andy and Jodi in the lobby. Men always come in and act like pigs at the lusty lady. I met some homeless guy named Allister from Scotland. At first he said he’s been sober for twenty years, then he said he’s been sober for ten years. He said if I ever need to talk to someone about staying sober, he’s my man. Andy went in the booths for a round of cleaning and I sat with Jodi at the front desk. She’s a really nice lady. She’s a good listener. She said she’s able to block everything out at work. She’s really happy to be living with her girlfriend in the city. Some guy came in and interrupted our conversation. He was puking television quotes all over the table. Both Jodi and I wished he’d just shut up and jerk off in the booths. We were minding our own business, drinking grape soda and laughing about our short comings. Someone called Jodi a man, but she didn’t sweat it, she acted like it didn’t even happen. Those mother fuckers are going to get theirs some day. long live the recession and cum scrubbers with recession proof jobs. Keep paying to jerk off mother fuckers!
I can’t wait to wake up early tomorrow, I’m really going to enjoy my morning before my first day at my new job.
This morning I woke up early and rode my bicycle from North Beach to the Mission. On my way out the door the Punjabi woman gave me a look like I was too bright to look at. “Do you owe me money today or do you owe me money tomorrow?”
Neither.
“When?”
Wednesday.
“Oh, okay.”
I walked past the piss puddle at the bottom of the steps. The carpets in hallways at the Marconi single resident occupant weekly establishment are stained and covered in office floor plastic. I don’t know why management decided to do that. I don’t know why some people keep their furniture covered in plastic wrap either. Are they waiting for someone important to come over? Are they ever going to lift the plastic off the stained carpet? What are people waiting for when they leave plastic wrap on their sofas and recliners?
I rode past the warf, to Market, took a left, then a right on Mission, through Otis to 15th and Mission, right on the one way street to meet friends for coffee and home made cookies. I had trouble sleeping after work last night. It was my last night.
Tex sang a song for me in the fluff room. He has a good voice. I’m not really into the music he likes. I took a photograph with Jeremy, he’s a good guy; he let me sleep on his floor once. It was Mothers Day, nobody really wanted to jerk off or pay for a prostitute. Even though that was my last night, I’m probably going to keep myself available to cover for people, and I’m going to help Martin pull up the carpet in the booths. If I’m available, I’ll cover during holidays and gay pride. The highlight of the evening was at midnight. Isaac was dancing alone on stage, nobody was in the theatre, and I was doing his lights from the booth. He’s a funny guy. He’s a young Asian. He turns more tricks than any of the other guys because he’s uninhibited and willing to do just about everything. Fat old white queens eat that shit up. He always wants me to play the latest garbage. I played Hannah Montana songs for him from the booth, track eighteen.
Two young women walked in with their mothers. Jeremy advised them that only one more entertainer was going to perform, but they were too excited to listen. They had no idea baby Isaac was going to be on stage. They probably thought some garlic breath muscle head, protein munching prick like Decca would be performing. I felt bad pulling their tickets from the machine, I didn’t make eye contact with them while I was stamping their wrists with the invisible stamp and collecting their money. I went back into the booth, and Isaac started clapping his hands as the four women sat in the corner. He went to the back, grabbed a gay porn mag, showed the women, and began to masturbate to it on stage. Sherman came into the DJ booth with me and we were both laughing at how excited Isaac was to act so strange. He poured lubricant all over himself, including his hair. Half way through the women handed him a few fives and immediately left the building. Isaac continued to masturbate to the porn until he was finished. I announced him off the stage, and announced that he would be entering the shower like the routine of every other entertainer. The doors were open in the jerk off booths facing the shower, and on my way to do laundry I tapped on one of the windows. Isaac was drip drying.
What are you doing Isaac? Dry off and go home. You don’t have to be here.
After I finished folding the last of the towels, I went to the drugstore because all the workers wanted candy. It was a goodbye gesture. I was celebrating my time as a porter, a cum scrubber, a ticket sales person, a low paid pimp.
After work I rode home, stopped to talk to Andy and Jodi in the lobby of their work. Then I realized once I got to the door that Andy was at our place sleeping. He had Mothers Day off. He invited his friend from Seattle to come sleep on our floor. I went to the Vietnamese food building a few doors down from our shit hole, and ordered number 49: mixed vegetables and steamed tofu.
Willy is alright, he considers himself a fairy. He asked if we wanted to shoot ketamine with him, but we declined. His trick turner name is Alex, he was a pretty nice guy. I didn’t mind him. He said he was tired of turning tricks, complained about his life just like I do all the time, and then he fell asleep on the linoleum floor.
After meeting up with my friends for coffee and free cookies, I went to the Saint James Infirmary for an STD test. Saint James was closing for three weeks, they told me to take a right on 8th and Market, go a few blocks down to building 334. I arrived at City Clinic after a short bicycle ride. If you ever want to receive rapid results, tell the nurse that you’ve been turning tricks, you’re homeless, and you’ve allowed over seventy men to give you oral sex in the past three months for money. Even though I didn’t need ‘rapid results,’ I did not feel like waiting two weeks for results.
After the test results I rode my bicycle back to my place and walked a couple blocks to Sophia’s place in China Town. We made dinner, and I did laundry, shaved the stubble off my face, and took a shower. She went to the drugstore and I hung out with her two boys at the jungle jim in between the buildings. I asked the boys what the pointy building was called. They called it the Coit tower, but the Coit tower is in North Beach. Basil showed me his tricks on his scooter, and Lucas hit a tennis ball against the wall. I asked them how to say where I live in French, Lucas answered, but Basil was preoccupied. I was going to take Lucas to the baseball game tonight, thankfully I didn’t ask him, because I was too beat to go. I wanted to, but my laundry took almost three hours, and I wanted to go play capture the flag in Union Square. I ended up sleeping through everything, including most of the Giants baseball game. I woke up with a blanket over me in the guest room. Well, it isn’t a guest room. The boys just sleep with Sophia in her room because they don’t like sleeping alone. For dinner Basil had eggs and cereal, Lucas had top ramen with a scrambled eggs in the soup. Sophia and prepared a potato medley and ate vegetarian tamales. After I woke up from my nap I watched the end of the game in the living room. I’m indifferent about the two teams. The Washington Nationals were in town to take on the Giants, and they were crushed like the pentagon. At the end of the game a ball bounced off a seagull in favor of the Giants. I laughed my face off. I truly felt bad for that bird, but I’m sure she died a martyr.
After the game I went to see if anyone was playing basketball, but I should’ve realized how late it was. I walked back to Broadway and Kearny and hung out with a Palestinian shop owner, then I smoked cigarettes on the steps. I called a few friends, most of them are in love or in school, or they think I’m crazy. Justin picked up, and we talked for over an hour. She’s living in Seattle now, and she’s as disgusted with men too. The Marconi was too loud to hang out in tonight. The strip bar below me vibrates the room, and the bright lights shine through the window. I attempted to sleep a few times but it’s tough when shitty booty rap, red hot chili peppers, and that, “I want to fuck you like an animal,” song is played over and over again. The guy working the DJ booth sounds like he’s announcing a dog race, a horse race, or an auction. I walked to the lusty lady to hang out with Andy and Jodi in the lobby. Men always come in and act like pigs at the lusty lady. I met some homeless guy named Allister from Scotland. At first he said he’s been sober for twenty years, then he said he’s been sober for ten years. He said if I ever need to talk to someone about staying sober, he’s my man. Andy went in the booths for a round of cleaning and I sat with Jodi at the front desk. She’s a really nice lady. She’s a good listener. She said she’s able to block everything out at work. She’s really happy to be living with her girlfriend in the city. Some guy came in and interrupted our conversation. He was puking television quotes all over the table. Both Jodi and I wished he’d just shut up and jerk off in the booths. We were minding our own business, drinking grape soda and laughing about our short comings. Someone called Jodi a man, but she didn’t sweat it, she acted like it didn’t even happen. Those mother fuckers are going to get theirs some day. long live the recession and cum scrubbers with recession proof jobs. Keep paying to jerk off mother fuckers!
I can’t wait to wake up early tomorrow, I’m really going to enjoy my morning before my first day at my new job.