“I’m only going out tonight because you told me to. Now hurry up and take that fucking shot.”
“I am! Just give me a second.”
“No, you’re not. You’ve been taking that shot for the past 30 minutes and by the time we get there everyone will be gone. This is ridiculous. Just take your shot and let’s go.”
“The more you pressure me the more resistant I’m going to be. It’s natural rebellion. It’s going to take longer the more you yell at me.”
“God. Just take the fucking shot.”
The more I get to know people, and the more I socialize with people in the real world, the more I understand reputations. Not so much understand them, as figure out the game to them. I have to now decide what part of myself I want the world to see. I could do as Nomi says and “Just be yourself” but then, if I just go around sayin what I think all the time people will get the wrong idea. You can’t be introverted and extroverted. You can’t have morals and be a sinner. You can, but not with reputations. I’m either going to be the introverted sinner or the extroverted saint. No one is going to say “yeah that bitch who talks about masturbation all the time, but that’s really actually quite modest and shy, but still really sexual…” no. That doesn’t happen. It either going to be “that huge whore” or “that stuck up bitch”
“I’s gots to rest.”
“Are you going to bed?”
“No, she’s not. Nomi usually doesn’t go to bed until about noon.”
Tiny little Nomi burrows into her comforter and begins humming. Apparently she does that while she sleeps. Which seemed completely absurd to me until I found a tune in Travis’s sleeping pigeon coos this morning. The Palm is like an alternate universe. Where everything flamboyant and dark is fun and light hearted. House of Yes is playing on the television, which I am watching intently while also watching Marcus (pocket Rhianna) sleep like a corpse in the middle of a circus, Eric(a) trying to explain why it hurts if Travis punches him in the right spot on his nose, and Nomi burrowing in and out of her blanket while occasionally surfacing to nibble off bits of Marcus’s hair wrap and spit them at him and laugh.
In Le Palm, when you want to do something you do it. You are fearless. I want to pretend that I am Jenny from Forrest Gump. I have Travis’ grandmother’s mink coat and my only pair of heels on, so I climb up the couch and onto the ledge of the window, open it and blow bubbles out onto the streets of Northside while dancing to a song by The Knife. I want the band unloading their equipment on the street to look up and see me and pay attention to me. But they don’t. Because apparently, chocolate scented bubbles always float around the air in these parts, and a broad in a mink coat is like seeing a dog with a tail.
“I’ma kill you. I’ma ‘sphyxiate choo.” Nomi is perched by Marcus’s corpse once more, this time with a tiny baggy that most likely held a pill or herb of some sort at one time. “I’ma ‘sphyxiate choo with this plastic baggie. Now breathe in rull deep.”
She’s so cute and weird. Always wearing something that falls perfectly off her shoulder and some sort of boots to accentuate her impossibly thin legs. That seems to be a trend in Le Palm. Being ridiculously thin that is. Eric is wearing his “Olsen twin sweater” that hangs off his bones and some really adorable Long John cut-offs that dangle from his body like Long Johns shouldn’t. They have a neighbor, Jessica who too, is also impossibly thin and gorgeous like the rest of them. I don’t feel real when I’m at Le Palm.
Nomi is my muse. Like my own personal IT girl. I just want to follow her around and see what funny thing she will say next, or how she will cut and dye her hair to fit her mood. Or whose hair wrap she will be nibbling in the next five minutes. Eric is the gay man I would want to be if I were ever a boy. He’s a sad girl I think sometimes. But damn, he has wit for miles.
“I’m so depressed. I wanted to tell Ms. America a joke, but when I got to her signing booth she was already gone.”
“Well, I’m no Ms. America, but I do love a good joke. Try me. I went out at 3 this morning trying to theft a poncho off of a lawn ornament, and it seems someone else has already done it or they took it down.”
“That’s awful. Did you hear about the blind guy that went bungee jumping? He was really excited for it, but his dog was scared to death.”
Jake is one of the weirdest people I may have ever met. Not because he’s three different types of genders and was beaten and sold into slavery at a young age like most of my extraordinary cases of weird people. But because he’s so logical I guess? I’m unsure. I’ve never met someone more dedicated to social networking in my life, and not just facebook. He lives it everyday. He’s had jobs like Window Salesman, and randomly does merch for shows, and runs an online business that sells beauty pageant make up with testimonials from Sandra Bullock. He’s a kid with a plan and his plan is to make money and be happy and meet people and learn. It sounds like a pretty damn good plan. I’m just not used to meeting people who actually follow the plans they make.
No comments:
Post a Comment