my late lunch with true james...

...exists somewhere between "my dinner with andre" and "my breakfast with blassie". we were out on the christmas hunt. or actually he was. i dont have money to scratch my ass lest purchase christmas gifts. we were at a Chili's restaurant. or applebees or olive garden. i mistakenly ordered a 30 oz glass of beer. who knew that's what the waitress meant? i never listen to waitstaff when i order. just nod and gesture and say thank you. my brother noticed that it had begun to snow, and i was relieved, but just as he mentioned the snow he asked the waitress to please close the blinds. bossy. bizarre. maybe it's just me. all in all it was a splendid lunch. the food was dreadful and the ridiculously large beer was warm before i could even have three sips. but i got a chance to explain to him everything from mt. hood mountain climbers to how i never understood where the homeless in rochester go in the winter until i learned about the abandoned subway tunnels. an awful lot of homeless for such an awful climate. but not really. maybe a couple days of snow, and that's about it these days. global warming can be global beauty sometimes.
but before this and before my horror in the chili's restroom i must mention the mall. true james and his girl always buy each other a lot of clothing.and lemon zesters. and other tame gifts. somewhere inbetween the gap and bedbathbeyond he was wondering what he could "really" get her.
as we walked out of sears i said
"you can give her a baby. i need a new title in life. elevate me. uncle br. would be magnificent..."
i'm not sure if he always sees my sarcasm. not so soon after that we passed by my eleventh grade english teacher, who i think is directly to blame for all of my problems. who was he to encourage me to write anyways?
but being a mess is good sometimes. true james said that i look like a longshoreman, and no one would ever recognize me. which was the reason i didn't want to go into the mall in the first place. i hate people who see me, and i see them, and i hate people, and they hopefully know it... a longshoreman whose just spent three days in county lock-up.
anyways, after lunch i found myself in a public fucking restroom. i've never been a germ freak, it's been my previous four years of employment that has taught me. there was nothing to actually clean my hands with. the sink, the soap, the paper towels were all contaminated , i mean you couldn't grab one sterile surface to grab the other. no clean surface to start or end with. but that's all right, sometimes it's better to push open the door with your foot then piss then not flush then fore go the sink then wait for someone else to open the door then slide out. germ free. it's a freebie for men i guess...

(i'll save the bizarre best buy cattle herd for another day)

so after all of everything i get my brother to stop by Sonnie's for a fourty and gin in a teacup. his daughter was there, who is now some kind of fucking pakistani princess genius, and as always he is there watching al jazeera. and he knows by what i buy that i am broke. and i only buy something once or twice a week these days. maintenance drinking. sober for 72 to 96 hours then a night to stop fucking shaking. anyways he keeps saying i can always work for him again. that's a bit too much of a fucking circle for me. that's how the whole of fucking life is. the symbol i sharpie onto the back of my hand everyday.