Fucked. Today I was supposed to go to spokane for a piano lesson. The city of evil....Right now my dad is switching channels back and forth from Harry Potter to some porn movie....weird, anyway, spokane. The piano teacher I was referred to was that far away, so I was all proud of myself for being special. Kim, my friend and band mate went with me so we could shop for equipment between my lesson at 2 and picking up my dad at the airport at 5. Anyhow, the directions to my place of learning were totally fucked, and we got lost. We pulled over at a convenience store so I could call my potential teacher and let her know I would be late even though at this point I would probably miss it altogether. Kim bought some donuts and fritos and went out to the car while I suffered the misfortune of an old man yelling "Hey, kid." from his parked car in the front of the shop. It was a recent made white buick, which is traditional for the elderly to sport nowadays. He asks me if I know where the bathroom is, I say no, so he asks if I'll look. I look at each side of the store and don't see it. He asks if I'll go in and ask. I'm in a hurry, but I'm just too fucking nice for my own good so I do. The shopkeeper points to the back of the store and is speaking in a language I cannot deciper. I see a doorway that says "no public restroom," so I assume this is the restroom and start slowly walking backwards to tell the old man in the buick. The shopkeeper must think I don't understand him, so he yells, "I show you!" a couple of times in broken english and begins walking towards the back. I follow. We arrive outside the door way, and the only words I can make out are "Old woman...shit everywhere!" He points at the floor to indicate a trail of human feces that leads to the bathroom door. At this point I am frightened. I look back up at him and he still yells, "Shit everywhere! Shit everywhere!" And then something else I couldn't make out but he had a tone that made it seem like he thought I should clean it up. I think he thought I was with her or something. I left hastily and told the man out front that the shopkeeper said a lady had been back there for a while. He said "I know, she's my wife. She was having problems and I'm wondering what happened to her." I made my phone call and left. That night I drank cough syrup till I passed out and had nightmares I don't want to talk about. True story. Jeff is tainted.
Valentines day. Seldom a treat for us that are too preoccupied with roadkill to be deemed what the majority would consider "lovable." All preceeding V-days I have no vivid memories of, thus assuring me that I probably succeded in isolating myself to drown all feelings of social inadequacy with whatever resources I had to work with. This particular V-day though, a lady friend I knew from high school invited me to spend the day with her in Spokane, where she now resides. This, in case you are unaware, is a fairly large city about an hour and a half from the quaint town I call my own. She said she'd just lost her boyfriend and didn't want to spend that day by herself, so, not that I was getting ahead of myself, but I was entertaining ideas. Before I left town I bought her a shitload of soap, because everyone else was standing in line with flowers and I didn't want to be cliche. I got her the good shit, too, Palmolive. Maybe that's not spelled right but you know the stuff. Two economy sized bottles, 64 ounces. One lemon scented, one original. I get to spokane and find her place and we do nothing for a while. Then we watched the movies she makes with her cousins. We went to a music store so I could get new strings for my 12 string guitar, because I can't find those in my town. We got back and watched a simpsons rerun, and at one point we watched part of UHF, which is Weird Al's feature film, in case you were unaware. I decided to go home around 7, and discovered I had locked my keys in the car for the first time. After scraping my paint with a bent up coat hanger for a while, we called a locksmith who got me out for $30, which I actually had to borrow a quarter from my friend to pay. On the way home a homeless guy yelled at me when I was stopped at a stoplight. I was glad I wasn't him. I added up my expenses, and with gas, soap, lock smithing and all, essentially the end of the day left me with a $76 set of guitar strings. After that I went back to my hometown for about ten minutes, then to a party in CdA (neighboring town) till late that went all right, I guess. Whoo.
I can't remember exactly what day it was, but it was grand because I hit a skunk that was already dead three times. After that my friend Liz got out of the car and put a dead Christmas tree we found on the side of the road on top of the car, then we drove for a bit and slammed on the brakes in an attempt to give it some distance. Instead it just slid down the front of the car and I ran over that a couple times then we went home. Oh and before that I dropped a movie off in the drive-by deposit box without stopping the car. I had to use the force. Having a license is cool because you can run over things and have yet another outlet to be a ninja and/or jedi. Nothing else is new in this bleak little village.