I always go back to the bad ones. Not for long, but long enough to regret. The neon Cheetos, the doughy onion rings, the frozen buttercream frosting for breakfast… and the aging wannabe musician who was still f**king his ex.
Dust had nothing going for him except a wayward smile and the promise of a vagabond life. But like most everything else in this town, it was a beautifully crafted lie. And it’s not that I bought it and it’s not that I believed; I just never felt the urge to do any better. He ate Erewhon mung beans, he rhymed “oh Girl” with “my world” and his love of himself was unfettered. But he was an easy enough place to get lost in and he knew how to move. And I was tired tonight of thinking of lost and dead girls and tired of not knowing what to do.
I was good last night, I wrote my review, paid homage to the street party L.A. dining has become… I only had two beers and I went to bed before one… with every intention of waking up early and doing what I had vowed, long ago, to do… knowing full well the light of day would cripple me with doubt like any other fool. But lately my lack was weighing on me and I craved a stronger tool.
So as dark blanketed the L.A. sear, I ventured out with my numbing need. I stopped at the Astro for a greasy high then cruised over the Froo Pool Room where Dust hung out, by Cherokee. Hours later I woke up next to cold onion ring crumbs on sticky sheets. But then came the hour of three. When the quiet settles into the cracks of the night and the ghosts in the air kiss your skin… Aggie was at the window… my ghost, my reason, my kin. “The hell you doing?” she yelled at me, though only I could hear, “You gonna f**k away another ten years?!” I left Dust’s bed as she nagged “You better buy this kid pretty soon and find out who’s snatching these girls. You think you’re tired?” She asked me “I’ve been waiting for this for thirty two years.” I followed her out the window; she let me down on the street with a thud. I thought I’d better buy her a breakfast burrito from the Burger Hut. To calm her down.
But the Hut didn’t open until six thirty so we headed to Denny’s for an original Slam… pancakes, bacon, eggs over easy, creamed coffee, me and Aggie and no man. And in the two hours left until dawn, she said to me before the butter got runny: “Why don’t you just stay up? And get your ass over to Sakuri’s house before dawn, before you wimp out again, and hit her up for the money.” Not a bad idea.
Rhea.