20 pasts for the price of 1
I’m sick of the past, the god damn past. Every story I have takes place in the past. It’s happened. Even right now the previous sentence is in the past. There are so many books, movies,you-tube videos, and shows about shows, and reality and shows about reality. But few dreams, for they are over run by the massive population.
Everyone is predictable or am I meeting the ninety-five percent of the simple and repetitive population believing their wheeling or dealing or believing they know what their speaking about. I've studied my past situations, realizing that I didn’t fully understand them then. I was stupid and didn’t get it. I was trying hard but it’s too many words to explain this second in this particular mind frame during this paragraph. We will bring this up randomly later in this book.
I might have been crazy. The people who once represented my heroes and models have fallen. Hero’s that had fallen far lower than I ever would.
Dominic found me in Stella a second hand store owned by Kathy named for her grandmother. Id arrived back in NYC from New Jersey trying to get more coke and drinking beer at ten AM. He was with Ester at the time and I really loved her and she loved me, as friends. She was Dom’s girl so sidekicks and girlfriends of the boss end up spending a lot of brother and sister type time together. I would become Dominic’s sidekick as I sobered up in the weeks that would follow this encounter. He was an awesome speaker, thinker and charismatic man, good role model.
Closer to now, but far in the past I would drop him off at Washington Square Park. Tuesday nights he would vacation in Central park. He looked like shit and nobody was his friend any longer. After returning from three years in Australia, I was sitting in Dominic’s apartment waiting for the delivery guy whose number was still working. I did have to explain I was in Australia and help them remember me but they actually don’t care too much. I came home for Cousin Jonathon’s wedding. Aunt Bette needed some weed and since I was back from a foreign country for more than twenty four hours, naturally ask Josh. I was searching for a pot pipe in Dom's room. I found a burnt spoon and a needle and a pot pipe, I smoked. I’d talk to him later.
The wedding was a good time in a fire hall. It also happened to be, what would have been my third wedding anniversary. They wanted me to pull the garter belt off the bride’s sister; I wasn’t feeling that at all. As much as I am a tough guy I do not want to pull a garter on this day. It was also my grandparents wedding anniversary.
I live with them. Now I live with her, Grandpa Dave died months ago on his ninety-fifth birthday. The light in his room was on; I was totally annoyed at the nurse’s, grandma, even mom who was visiting. “Jesus, I have to do every fucking thing around here”? I found him in his bed; he looked the same but drawn and extra still. He was dead, I wasn’t surprised, and I was weirdly calm. It was befitting I found him after mom arrived two days earlier. The craziest part was the fact the family was scheduled to arrive for his ninety fifth birthday party! We quickly converted to a funeral. It was the Friday night or Saturday morning within twenty for hours of his ninety five year.
I literally almost passed out standing in the heat putting the last shovels of dirt on Grandpa Dave’s coffin. Jewish people cannot leave until the coffin is covered. I wore my all black suit, Grandpa Dave ware my grey wool pencil cut style suit purchased second hand many years ago, as Dave aged he shrunk out of every other suit in the house. I tried to bury him in my MARC suit.
If the MARC suit went to the grave I’d be free from ghosts of my past. Sally was Lisa’s best friend. Lisa was my Australian wife. I knew her ten month’s total, married for maybe three months. Sally worked at a clothing Public Relations showroom and loaned clothing and shoes out to television shows for presenters, actors, and guests to wear on the air or in print ads.
I was on a very low budget music video show named Ground Zero. I did little badly acted ads for the liquor company and then for Sony. I borrowed the suit for the Sony sketches before Lisa left and finished with it after she’d gone. I was too fucked up, bent up, angry and hurt, mad and vengeful and fearful to even consider going near Lisa’s friends. I held the suit to a later date which slowly became straight out theft. I still have it. Grandpa Dave was too small. It’s is a beautiful suit. I should have returned it; I should have done something about the suit and maybe something about the marriage to Lisa as well.
Lisa liked me, I liked her back. She cocktail waitressed at Shine, she never ever stopped dancing. Once I got to know her she said “I love the job because I can dance the entire time”. Her skin was soft white with pretty light colored freckles. Hair was brown, shiny and long. Eyes blue. Her back had an arch that caused her bum to be shapelier and her chest appear to push forward with beautiful full breasts. She was quick to smile, quickly to laugh. Her voice sounded exactly like Drew Barrymore’s, her Australian accent never shone through. She always wore a slip and cowboy boots.
Earlier that year but after a year and a half of being completely sober, Ethan showed up sweaty and twisted for my birthday with the gift of cocaine. Needless to say I lost my waiter jobs due to this and was again given a lifestyle change via Ethan. He hooked me up with a job with him in the marijuana distribution industry. A great job; boss was lenient and strung out on heroin. Customers loved us. I smoked with the customers at the deliveries, their treat or tip. I purchased tons of cloths and treats; at this job cocaine doesn’t constitute job loss.
Don’t get it wrong, it was New York City. When Ethan and I met we were working as waiters at Bowery Bar. Once during a staff meeting the owner asked us to “please do fewer drugs during your shift!” “Don’t order drugs from the pay phone because it’s bugged,” and “don’t sell drugs to the other owner because he is doing too many”.
Ethan and I started heading separate ways; we weren’t really seeing things eye to eye. It wasn’t differing moral issues and beliefs or separate political views. I was snorting blow and he started shooting heroin. I switched to hanging with Stuart because Dominic was getting married and Stuart and I were left without a proper party friend. Bringing Ethan around wasn’t really working because the dope was making him paranoid and withdrawn.
Stu and Dom got me jobs working at Shine in many capacities; Shine was the hottest club in NYC. I’d do comedy sets or host, I ran the velvet rope for those allowed in and almost rejected Von Winter the Rolling Stone editor , thankfully, a member of the band “Fun loving Criminals” saved the situation. Other nights they paid me to sit in a booth and drink free whisky. I made one hundred a night for drinking free whisky, Dominic and Stuart made two hundred a night to sit and drink free whisky. Also, I made substances find their way from the people holding them to the people wanting them. We spent quite a bit of time in the club basement; unbeknown to the common customer this was actuality the VIP room of VIP rooms. Until I was blamed for smashing the staff’s stereo and we were banned from the basement. Stuart did it, but I’m not a rat. I actually found out from someone who ratted Stu to me. He eventually confessed.
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