The Autopilot Soul
October 31st, 2006.
Previously…
Feeling out of place, these days. Back in the day the usual pattern of my life were abound. There was crawling out of bed to go to work, then toiling away behind a desk forever, and the drive home. Calling up my mates, hitting the bars & clubs, then trying to find the after parties.
Those days were long gone. I’ve a job at Carlucci’s (thanks to Super Jenn), I’ve got a car, and everything is decent. Even my lost mojo is back. Sort of. Mostly. I’m not really sure about that completely. But I know I’m not off anymore. Everything is aligning itself to wherever it’s going to end up. Wherever was a fun possibility. In the merry-go-round of life, I could jump off any of those horses at high speed and embrace that unpredictability with a smile. Of course there was always the landing.
And now…
All Hallows Eve. I remember being at a much younger age and mentality and going out in drag. Don’t ask, because I’m not telling. No one recognized me, which meant that the costume did its job masterfully. Today was different, as usual. No costumes. But when I looked out of the window, there were no kids either. It was weird, really. Yes, it was a weeknight, but still, no kids. I passed out candy to 2 kids. That’s it.
I had it all set to be fun and all, passing out candy, checking out what they’d be wearing. So it felt like I was robbed this year. Oh well. My car was in the driveway, gassed up, ready to take me downtown to I-Bar. I grabbed my coat, keys, and currency to get at least to a nice party atmosphere.
I-Bar, to me, was dead. Not the craziness that had gone on the weekend prior, where it was absolutely amazing. Everyone might have just burned themselves out. The people there seemed to be relaxed more than energized. I felt the same way. But the bar called and I joined in the relaxation. Nothing happened that night, just organized chill. Nothing beats organized chill.
November 1st, 2006. Work day. I hated working. But it was money. Couldn’t turn that down. I worked in the kitchen, washing dishes and trying to drown out the reggaeton that some of the cooks loved so much. I like all sorts of music, but I can’t tolerate the same type of music for too long. And it would help if we were listening to it while dancing up a storm. That would definitely help. I didn’t mind that some of them spoke exclusively Spanish, because I could understand them. The work was mindless, and I routinely checked out of my body while thinking up ideas for my stories, art, and whatever else was going on in my mind.
My resume writing must really be out of whack for me not to have found a job so far. Job offers have come few and far between, but they’ve been mostly of the typical “sales” positions, which I honestly have no true ability in. My bullshit skills aren’t that good. Keary, amongst others, have said otherwise, but I’ve never seen it. Maybe it was one of those unseen things. I’d never know.
I spoke to Gina on the phone for a while. I’m glad that she’s gotten her stuff together in Miami with her boyette Jose. She’s a driven person, but it has really shined when she’s done things the right way. I miss her a lot, but fortunately all it takes is a 4 hour trip down the turnpike and there she is. Might have to head that way soon. Sun, beaches, girls in bikinis? Make that really soon.
Next: Super Jenn! Super Dave! And a super night at I-Bar as Raymond pops out of nowhere, shots abound, a whole lot of dancing! Plus, a trip to St. Pete, family drama, and the introduction of Shelly! And more guaranteed exclamations!