(no subject)
Nov. 27th, 2002 05:40 pmOne Christmas when I was a senior in high school, my family flew to Denver to look at houses. They were planning to move that spring.
It was a lot colder there than any other place I could remember being. There were knee-high snowdrifts downtown with bums sleeping in them. I also couldn't remember ever seeing that many bums before.
I was separated from my good friends and felt very alone for those two weeks or so. I would take the bus downtown by myself and walk around in what I liked to call the Crack Motel District. It was very desolate and the places that were even open were far apart. (One place I went into was Uzi, a store full of punk and bondage gear, which had a dentists' chair and freaked me out. Now, years later, the owner Mary has opened Uzi in the East Village and I came by and she made me a special pair of cuffs. Not handcuffs, like bracelet cuffs.)
Another place I went into was Winky's Pawn Shop. I'd never been into one and wanted to look at the musical instruments and the faded, grungy decor. There were plenty of shady characters in there. A big young guy with longish blond hair took some pocket watches out of the case for me to look at, and complimented me on my argyle knee socks. He was the first and only person besides my parents who I'd talked to in a week, and he had a nice deep voice and sly eyes. I liked him immediately.
His name was Bill and he was in a band. Kind of a dark metal band. They were playing on New Year's Eve, if I wanted to go. I did, but I told him I had no way of getting anywhere except maybe the bus, and my folks were going to a big city-sponsored festival in a convention center. He gave me his number and said he'd pick me up.
Nervous, but trying to appear nonchalant, I told my folks I'd meet them back at the car in four hours. They barely had time to blink before I took off to a pay phone.
Bill came to get me and we went to his house and smoked a joint and talked. He was one of those sweet, inarticulate big guys that are tall and stocky and ten or fifteen pounds away from being fat. His attitude was both dismissive (of Winky's, of Denver) and unexpectedly charming, thoughtful and literate. He eyed me up and down a bit and came over to sit by me, but was too shy (and probably cognizant of the fact that I was sixteen (going to be seventeen in a week, though!) to touch me. He did kiss me once or twice, or maybe that was later.
He brought me to the grotty punk club and brought me in the back, away from the bouncer who was checking i.d.s. He said hi to some guys and leaned against the wall with me as the band played and the kids drank and everyone looked at each other. He was supposed to go on in a little bit. It was getting late. I was going to turn into a pumpkin. I told him so and he took me back out to his car. Maybe it was then that he kissed me, in the very cold, very bright air. And looked at me, and shook his head, and said something like "No, I can't." And took me back to the convention center, where the Hare Krishnas danced outside, offering corn bread to everyone passing by.
It was a lot colder there than any other place I could remember being. There were knee-high snowdrifts downtown with bums sleeping in them. I also couldn't remember ever seeing that many bums before.
I was separated from my good friends and felt very alone for those two weeks or so. I would take the bus downtown by myself and walk around in what I liked to call the Crack Motel District. It was very desolate and the places that were even open were far apart. (One place I went into was Uzi, a store full of punk and bondage gear, which had a dentists' chair and freaked me out. Now, years later, the owner Mary has opened Uzi in the East Village and I came by and she made me a special pair of cuffs. Not handcuffs, like bracelet cuffs.)
Another place I went into was Winky's Pawn Shop. I'd never been into one and wanted to look at the musical instruments and the faded, grungy decor. There were plenty of shady characters in there. A big young guy with longish blond hair took some pocket watches out of the case for me to look at, and complimented me on my argyle knee socks. He was the first and only person besides my parents who I'd talked to in a week, and he had a nice deep voice and sly eyes. I liked him immediately.
His name was Bill and he was in a band. Kind of a dark metal band. They were playing on New Year's Eve, if I wanted to go. I did, but I told him I had no way of getting anywhere except maybe the bus, and my folks were going to a big city-sponsored festival in a convention center. He gave me his number and said he'd pick me up.
Nervous, but trying to appear nonchalant, I told my folks I'd meet them back at the car in four hours. They barely had time to blink before I took off to a pay phone.
Bill came to get me and we went to his house and smoked a joint and talked. He was one of those sweet, inarticulate big guys that are tall and stocky and ten or fifteen pounds away from being fat. His attitude was both dismissive (of Winky's, of Denver) and unexpectedly charming, thoughtful and literate. He eyed me up and down a bit and came over to sit by me, but was too shy (and probably cognizant of the fact that I was sixteen (going to be seventeen in a week, though!) to touch me. He did kiss me once or twice, or maybe that was later.
He brought me to the grotty punk club and brought me in the back, away from the bouncer who was checking i.d.s. He said hi to some guys and leaned against the wall with me as the band played and the kids drank and everyone looked at each other. He was supposed to go on in a little bit. It was getting late. I was going to turn into a pumpkin. I told him so and he took me back out to his car. Maybe it was then that he kissed me, in the very cold, very bright air. And looked at me, and shook his head, and said something like "No, I can't." And took me back to the convention center, where the Hare Krishnas danced outside, offering corn bread to everyone passing by.
Wow.
Date: 2002-11-27 05:07 pm (UTC)Re: Wow.
Date: 2002-11-28 02:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-29 08:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-30 02:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-12-02 07:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-12-02 02:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-12-03 09:31 am (UTC)I am there b/w the 22nd and the 28th.
sorry charlie!