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Andronico's

Okay so there's this guy who hangs out in front my local grocery store asking people for change. He's always there and he hits up everybody. Everybody except me.

The first couple of times I walked by him i just felt kind of relieved, but it's starting to really get to me. He asks old ladies for money. He asks thugs for money. Little kids. Business men. Other hobos. Soccer moms. Fat couples. Everyone. His thirst for pocket change knows no cultural, racial, or economic boundaries. He just won't ask me.

I keep trying all these different moves to get his attention. At first I thought I'd go for the obvious stuff like counting my change as I walk by or pulling my cell phone out and having a pretend conversation with my pretend stock broker. My thinking was that if the guy thought I had cash he'd hit me up. Nothing.

So lately I've been trying to use some kind of reverse hobo psychology where I act like a total dick and either stare straight ahead like he's invisible or I pretend a UFO appeared just over the horizon in the exact opposite direction of him and I'm too busy to be bothered helping a guy eat or get wasted or whatever he does with everybody else's money. He still doesn't give me the time of day. Fine. Be a total douche bag, but I swear on my pretend stock broker's kid's lives that I will give you my spare change if it's the last thing I do.

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6-9-2006

Chicago was BART to Oakland to airplane. Waiting at the airport, nervous and excited. M + R picked me up in a car with a pink bumper. We had never met before and smoked and talked about our lives - relieved that none of us turned out to be jerks. Flying down the freeway and into Chicago proper we tried to find a place for M to pee while I fell in love with the windy city again. I really love this place. It's got the anonymity of New York with a touch of west coast awesomeness. I guess what I mean is I like how people don't pay any attention to me or even look at me when I'm walking around - like in New York - but if I actually need something like, say, directions it's easy to get someone to stop. M's place is a huge three bedroom brownstone overlooking the river. M made some kind of pasta while I called up a friend I hadn't seen in years who lives there and we all hit the California for some drinks. The bartender passed us a wig at some point. It was this huge black thing - not entirely unlike slash's curly locks. We all took turns trying it on for fun. Everyone looked twenty times hella finer with it on. There was some plan to go to some show, but it was so much fun catching up with old friends and meeting new ones that we ended up ordering a bunch of shots and hanging out all night instead. Woke up the next morning and ate at some place owned by internationally famous guru ______ ______. The man can, evidently, lift planes into the air using only the power of his millions and millions of dollars brought in through merchandise, donations, and his chain of shitty vegetarian restaurants where all the employees work for free and have long ago abandoned earthly possessions like deodorant. Went with M R to the beach. Great lake is an understatement. Fresh water maybe, but this thing definitely clocks in at ocean level. It has waves and I can't see the other side. We hung out at the dog beach. The canines splashed and barked and played and it made us happy. The tan tanned. The pale burned. Pants were rolled. Feet in icy water and running and laughing. Hangman was played. L _ _ _ M _ _ _ _ G _ _. That night we met some peeps out at some BYOB tai place. Back at M's now. We smoked a joint and took turns shooting rocks from her porch (three stories up) into the river with slingshots. We've got a five hour drive tomorrow. Sleep now.

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Fake it 'till you make it

Tonight is an alabaster room
ribboned with Christmas lights

A vacuumed room with dishes clean
and not a drop in the house

Only six cigarettes this week
Even read some damn Anton c.

Refused all offers

It's a warm night of writing
A picture perfect painting

Now she'll love you again