Friday, June 5, 2009

Waiting on Bruce

A couple of nights ago I was kicked back in the van, under the Broadway bridge where I stay not really doing anything when a couple of guys I know pull in beside me. Wade the Mormon and this black guy with a fucked up forehead whose name I can never remember, Sean maybe, or Chris- both of these guys I have gotten high with in the past as well as committed various criminal acts with in order to finance that dubious hobby. This particular night though I was stone sober and not even minding being just that, I've got one of those digital audio books by some Japanese cat titled "Kafka by the Sea" and I'm just diggin' life. That's when Wade and the Forehead guy pull in, and Forehead walks over to my window and asks if my cigarette lighter works,




"Sure", I say




"How do you get in" he says tugging at the door handle,




" I'll get it", and slide over into the front seat, the outside door pull is broken or something -it happened when the window came off the track and now I have to reach inside to open that door and hold onto the window if I roll it up or down for fear it might fall out.




So then the Forehead guy , who can't get in now because I'm in the drivers seat, hands me a Garmin GPS thing-a-ma-jig like you mount on your dash for driving directions and wants me to plug it up. I'm not surprised because that's his thing- in fact that's both these guys thing- busting car windows and ripping off peoples GPS units. When I plug it in I get nothing so I take a closer look and its got like an extra hole under the one where the power cable goes in, it seems strange,




"That one has been operated on or something" Chris or Dave or whatever the forehead guys name is says, and I say,




" Yea maybe its Pre-stolen or something" and hand it back. He turns and throws it back into the car as Wade the Mormon ( no disrespect to Mormons intended that's just his handle, I mean he is a Mormon who also just happens to be a dope fiend and a thief) walks around the front of his car to ask me for a smoke. No sooner than I give him one all hell breaks loose, from every direction the night explodes into lights and sirens, 15 or 20 police cruisers swarm in, doors flying open and cops with pistols drawn screaming at the tops of their collective lungs,







"Give it up , Give it up - Who's got it."







"Fuck", I think,







"Fuck", I say out loud.

"Get out of the van now" I am directed by the friendly public servant, and when I am not fast enough, I am even assisted in this endeavor.





At this point I am relatively sure of two things ; that I am going back to prison and I am gonna have to purchase a shank to kill Wade and the forehead just as soon as I can. Luckily for me though this cop comes up on one of those two wheeled vehicles that you ride in a standing position- you know the ones that were hyped as revolutionary devices with world changing results- and tells the first set of assholes that I sleep there every night in my van and that Ive been there a while and they know I am not involved in the heinous crime that resulted in menacing 9 millimeter threats to my life and some old fashion bumps to the head, anyway as I type this I am getting thirsty and cant keep focus so long story short they take me to jail for a couple of old warrants and hold me until the this morning, Wade the Morman suddenly gets right with his Maker and snitches off the guy with the fucked up forehead and I'm ass out of a van because they impounded my van and I cant get it back without a drivers license and paper work- but that's where Bruce comes in -see the van legally belongs to Bruce the guy I got it from and I got in touch with him so he's coming from Kansas City to help me out. So for now I am just waiting on Bruce so I might as well have a beer or two.

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About Me

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I struggle with addiction and am just recently out of prison- I dislike most people and am bitter and self destructive. Yet somehow I have a good time. My first wife wanted to be an FBI agent when I met her in college, and the last one was a prostitute,the former gave me three great kids that I named Dakota, Skye and Willow, the latter a hell of a hard time. In the past I have been a busboy, a waiter, and a bartender. I have worked in nearly all construction trades including carpentry, brick laying, electrical, weilding, and plumbing. Once I had a job where I climbed tree's for a living. I fought Mixed Martial Arts when they still called it No Holds Barred, I have sold cars and was an editorial cartoonist. I am a failed actor, to lazy to try very hard, and lived with outlaw bikers in Northern California. I served as a medic in the army,and studied creative writing as well as radio tv. I cook a mean breakfast and like to sit and think sometimes all day. Did I say think or drink?