January 1, 1999 |
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Okay. Rebecca's mighty New Years' Story. You knew it would happen. So.... SHUT REEEEEEEEAD this. Try to become my visiting Wisconsin friend. Standing here in Seattle with me. Adding your special influence while these insodents were happening to the 2 of us... Well?
Here we are. Yeah. I want you to get excited for this because I did everything I wanted to last night. Except for my MAIN GOAL. So, I did everything but, FUCK. I really wanted to fuck. Mephisto. I wanted to FUCK Mephisto. So the night wasn't all a sexual loss. It's a long story, so I thought you would probably like to read the long, stingingly boring version. Wouldn't you? Fuck. I would just stop right now. NO. I REALLLY would stop reading NOW. Now. STOP. Because this night was a doozy. Okay, you fuck. You must want a story if you got this far. But it's not like I didn't warn you, right? Funny thing is, I almost didn't do any partying at all last night. I got off work at 3 because Company H was starting off our holiday early just to help lift their employee's spirits to the occasion. I had a shit load of work to do, but since the Execs are literally pushing us out the door, I figured I could use them as a good excuse to bail on work. Cool. It was time to smoke in my car. Get into the driving thing. You know, forget where you are going. Not caring that you may end up somewhere the fuck out you don't expect. Whoops. I end up in the university district. Where the fuck am I? Lost. In Seattle, can't remember through the haze of pot in my car what I am doing or what the damn day is. But fuck. It's so damn fun to drive. Fucking car. I can no longer get in or out of my car through the driver's side door. Why? Some asshole mistook that piece of SHIT telly in the back of my car was ACTUALLY WORTH SOMETHING? Do you realize how funny this is? This TV, it has no dials. It's plastic dial nobs wore right out of their metal screw axel. All you can SEE (from the back of a Geo in this case) now, is the worn metal axel jutting out like a compound fracture from the face of the TV. Then, It's fucking fake wood. Who the FUCK invented wood made out of PLASTIC? I will raise the pistol to my temple if THAT guy is rich now. no, not only RICH but better yet.... Governor of Oregon. So where am I here? So after I got lost for a while I figured out I had to get downtown. Sure, I was invited to 2 other New Year's parties from coworkers but my chances of getting laid were pretty slim in these cases. One was my art lead. Known as Grover, this guy probably would have thrown a pretty fucking kickass party. I will find some good work gossip. Roast a nice Spud on a bonfire. Sleep on a RF-virgin couch. Get radically drunk in front people I shouldn't... but alas.... I wanted COCK. It's funny. I think COCK and immediately, Damon comes to my mind. Not that he would dick me. Fuck. I wanted the goddamn foot rub. That was worth the pot I wasted on him. I just knew for one thing, I didn't want to be shacked up in the Harbor Steps apartment complex on this rare 1999 Seattle New Years Eve.....and I knew I wasn't going to let another Seattle New Years slip past me again. So I made Damon talk me into going somewhere last night instead of falling into a pot coma in front of my 12th viewing of Amadeus. No. I must respond to the Seattle life calling from deep within me. First, Damon suggested the Lava Lounge right off. But it was only like 6:30 pm December 31st. No wonder the parking was so good. And it was the parking that finally pushed my decision to stay downtown all night instead of running off to an office party some 2 hours drive from here. No. I went to the New Orleans. Everyone was dressed up. And I used to know all those bartenders by name. Even the faggy one who knew all the lyrics to the songs they were piping in. In the middle of my Vodka 7, I had to go to the bathroom quick.... Had to get me a couple more fixes. Puff. Puff.... ....AWAYYYYYYY. Okay. By this time I had a martini, 2 bowls of some choice weed, vodka 7. Empty stomach, and I was happy as Spamwhip. Spilled Merricchino cherry juice on my favorite tight gray fashionjerk shirt. So I wore it backwards the rest of the night. I thought ahead enough to wear my exceedingly obvious spare car key around my neck too. One of the New Orleans waitress's noticed it, and commented on the shear size.... But you want to know money well spent? I spent a meer 6 bucks setting up the Lava Lounge's New Year's night playlist of jukebox songs. Lava Lounge gets partial credit for providing such a nice flavor of music to choose from. I got mostly Tom Waits, Patsy Cline, Frank Sinatra and Prince titles. I think the Jukebox seranaded the entirety of my list before the live band started. I had a wine cooler just to satisfy the one twatty Lava Lounge bartender, then a chardenney, 3 more tokes in the bathroom. I wrote about drugs with my martini pen (its got little olives all over the shaft) while I peed. Then I read some chick's words of love to my tape recorder. She had boring love ideas, so I taped over that. Pressious moments. Oh yeah. I made up a song to chrysen the occasion. It goes.... Kiss me... Kiss Because I am still young. M MOM! Hey! Remember when you were 26 Mom? You were dreaming of a place that you could run free in. I know I am not 19. I have some SLICK Scars. I love my age and what I know. So KISS ME. Because I am STILL YOUNG>>>>>> Because I know my body will heal fast. I am only 26. My knee will be perfect in exactly 4 weeks. So kiss me now. Before this moment is over. KISS.... Kiss me. 26 year old. Tight pink. Supple young lips. KISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSTthem. Mephisto. Shit. I should tell you about Mephisto. You know how I have these guys on my fucking list. Avery, Juno from work, Baird the Madison bassist for the Moonhearts, Morty from Chicago because I want to finish him OFF, and Joshua the accordian player. Now there is Mephisto, of Damon's favorite bar, the Lava Lounge. Well, I certainly found out why Damon chose that bar to be THE SHIT of Seattle. I mean, I liked the place a lot at first sight way back in my wine-sipping days. Just outside the bathroom, the band was setting up and tuning. I recorded myself playing pinball. I think I was starting to raise some eyebrows at this point because I suddenly was yanked into my first game of shuffleboard. I fucking won. Making my way back to the bar, I tape recorded a man reading sorrowly from The Stranger. I wanted his story. He laughed. Why did you come up to me? He says. I didn't have a clue why he was so amused by wanting to know his story. Well. He just had a nasty fall out with his girlfriend of 3 years. She threw him out, because she was seeing the fucking singer of some local Seattle grunge band. He was leafing through The Stranger just to look at the personal adds, and he already ran across adds announcing that damn band 2 times. So sad. He didn't want to be recorded anymore. Enter Mephisto. This cool guy comes in. He strikes me right away, because he immediately tells his coworker that he's a punk and a rebel. Well fuck. My pussy heard the magic fucking words. I was on him all night, man. I wanted him. I even liked his snide remarks. All in good fun of course. I would know if he were trying to insult me. I just wanted, hell. I wanted that damn New Year's kiss with Mephisto of the Lava Lounge. But ahhhhhh. What would his girlfriend think? While smoking in my courage to ask for Mephisto's phone number, I thought it would be easier for me to secretly tape record the question. Maybe the number would get on tape. So I hid the recorder in my sleeve, placed my arm in respectable recording distance and got Mephisto's entire phone # on tape. Christ. I had some NICE thoughts of future phone conversations with Mephisto. Seduction. I love it. Yet, in the shuffle of things, and in my stoner delirium, I sadly recorded over Mephisto's phone number later on that night. Anyway, it was about 9 pm now, and the Lava Lounge was just not enough for RF. So I headed to the Catwalk. I heard some pretty tall tales about New Years at the Catwalk. And my car was all snug and parked, so I had no worries. Though I did notice that the parking would've been nill at this time if I tried. Though I had my mind set on Catwalk, I somehow couldn't manage to pull myself out of the Showbox's allure. I never made it to the Catwalk at all that night. But it's cool. I downed 2 quick shots of vodka then forced my way to the main Showbox floor. I taped a weird cross dresser vocalist announce himself on stage, then the music took over my memory. I was a dancing fool. People even stepped into an arc around me and this other dance fuck. With my graditude, I offered the dance fuck a couple of hits in between songs. I had the pipe, he had the lighter. No one cared that we were lighting up right there in front of everyone. And that guy wanted me, but I didn't let him have it.... hah. Back at the Showbox bar area, a DJ was starting up. I had lost my wallet at this time, but I was a drunk on New Years so what did I care? So I danced all over this sweet ass boy on this dance area. Spanish flavored music. Made my hips gyrate. I actually danced pretty successfully with 3 separate guys on that Spanish dance floor. The Chinaman was a hot dancer, but an ugly little turd. Of course the cutest guys never have the moves. And the guys with the moves are gay. (Except for that pot toking dance fuck back on the main floor.) At this time I looked deep within the vacant, bloodshot eyes of all 3 dance partners and I asked myself. Who did I have access to that I wanted to share my newyear's kiss with? I knew without hesitation. Mephisto. Mephisto way back at the Lava Lounge some 14 blocks away... ...and only 20 minutes to spare. On my run back to the Lava Lounge I imagined how I was just going to blurt it out. Mephisto. I don't care. Kiss me. Just because it's 1999 and I am asking you. But a crowd diverted my attention. The countdown crowd was starting to get some police attention in front of the Pike Place neon clocksign. They were setting off rockets and throwing eggs. My car has an undercooked omlette on my rear wheelwell as proof. I went right up to a rather snotty cop and got his 2 cents about all the holiday spirit. He was as cold as a witch's tit, I swear to you. And here I was annoying the Pig with a pocketfull of weed. My hair thick with pot stench. Stupid fuckin Pig. And I looked so hard for a suitable set of lips upon the moment the clocksign hit Midnight. A street performer swallowed fire when the crowd indicated the strike of the hour. I blew other people's horns and got a bubbly bath from some guy riding a linebacker. But that was that moment. Not the height of my night at all. Back to the Lava Lounge. Ohh. Got kissed. Jered lied. He said he didn't live anywhere at first. Then I kissed him and he said his friend will let him use his apartment that night. Hell, Damon already forced some condoms on me, so I was surprised when I said no to his proposal to fuck him. Just because he was asking. It's what I wanted to hear all night. Maybe I just wanted to be asked. Maybe because as my New Year's night revealed itself to me, I realized that I wanted to fuck. But I wanted Mephisto. Back to the Lava Lounge. On the way I stopped guys in cars to tape record them or take hits off their joints. And the bums sure saw the business end of my tape recorder last night. I think I got some 6 bums on tape in total. Great people. All of them. They need their new year celebrated too, right? So, Lava Lounge has this amazing live band playing. Me and 2 other groupy chicks danced together. I was sitting on the shuffleboard table. I ended up talking to the lead singer by accident. She was even more full of herself than I was. And the photographer was such a filthy cunt that I had to bother her. She didn't like to be tape recorded that much at first, but eventually she liked the attention. After that I was really into taping everyone. I made sure Mephisto was within earshot of all the people I walked up to. The night almost over, I had to get back to the Showbox to retrieve my coat. It's where I thought I left my wallet. Mephisto was carding people at the door. I leaned up against the wall opposite him and I said, you know. If you don't make a move on me right now Mephisto, I am just going to breeze out of here now and you'll never see me again. He said nothing, so I ran. Back to the Showbox. But my wallet wasn't in my coat afterall, so I made my way past Mephisto again to leave my home # in case my wallet showed up. In reality, I was hoping Mephisto would get it through his skull that it would be to HIS ADVANTAGE to fuck me rotten. He really should have seen what kind of New Year's night I had in mind. No really. It would've been so goddamn merry. |
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