Blind Prophecy

My best friend Michelle is dealing with a break-up that’s turning nasty. She called me last night at 4 am after calling the cops on her ex-girlfriend turned stalker, but I didn’t get the message until this morning. I called her and got the whole story about how the ex followed her home from a bar, to an ATM machine, then back home again – the whole time accusing Michelle of planning a secret 4 am rendezvous with some new girl. Michelle locked herself in and her ex started calling from a cell phone, getting increasingly angry until Michelle finally called Las Vegas Metro. I hope this is the end of it for them. You excuse that type of behavior, even once, and it’s like giving permission to the crazy person for more of the same. Believe me, I know.

Unfortunatley, Michelle and I got cut off when my cell phone finally went kablooey. It’s been threatening to die for several months now, but I’ve been coping and hoping it’ll magically heal itself. Sorta like my van. Modern technology is failing me all around and I don’t have the cash flow right now to fix or replace the things I desperately need.

I had to drive to the printing plant and sign off on magazine proofs today. They’ve moved to a warehouse on the edge of town and the whole time I’m driving with no A/C and praying to the god of automobiles (just a few more months while I save money for a down payment…). I noticed something about freeways – they’re incredibly ugly when you’re not moving. As a kid, I used to love long freeway drives: the hypnotic white and yellow lines, the blurry patterns made from rushing past cracks and tar at 60 mph. But when you’re stuck in traffic, it’s over 100 degrees outside and you have time to really look at the asphalt and litter, they are remarkably ugly.

Going to gay bingo for charity tonight at Hamburger Mary’s. The only thing that separates gay bingo from regular bingo is that we have a drag queen call the numbers and every time the “O-69” ball is called, we get free shots. Since it’s a charity event (supporting the gay & lesbian community center), we play for shitty prizes like t-shirts and gift certificates from the event sponsors and all the cash from the game goes to a good cause. Gay bingo can be fun (it happens about once a month), but I generally end up bored with the game after two rounds and would rather drink and socialize. Problem is, everyone’s too intent on the game to talk.

Yesterday I saw this bitch I haven’t spoken to in over a year. She’s this cunt who told me, the first night we met, that I was a fat, ugly, bald freak of nature who didn’t deserve to have pretty friends (I met her through one of my friends who is extremely attractive). Not only did she hit my biggest insecurities in one quick comment, she wasn’t exactly a raving beauty herself. I don’t think she recognized me yesterday – which is a good thing because if she ever, ever tried to speak to me again, I’d hit her. I would never hit a lady, but she’s nothing like a lady.

I bought Chasing Liberty from the bargain bin at Blockbusters. I only bought it because I think Matthew Goode is sexy and I enjoy laughing at Mandy “Look, ma, I’m acting with no hands” Moore. I also bought Chuck Palahniuk’s Invisible Monsters because it was the only thing at Borders that looked remotely interesting at the time. I feel a little guilty reading Palahniuk’s books because they make for such quick reads that I never have to go back and read again. Notice something deep in Chuck’s story, not to worry, he’s going to hit you over the head with it until even a six-year-old gets the message. I should never shop for escapist entertainment opportunities when I’m feeling pretentious ennui.

Time to go clean up for the bingo crown tonight.

Filed under: livejournal by Jere Keys