Sunday, October 17, 2004

"Hey Paul, hey Paul, hey Paul, let's have a ball."

I finally met the talented, gorgeous, charming and witty Llew this week. We spent three awesome days in Atlanta overdosing on Pixies music, chocolate, and Coca-Cola products from around the world. When we weren’t doing those things, we were sleeping, or Llew was over there reading IN THE DARK! What kind of person reads in the dark…honestly? Turn some lights on or you’ll ruin your eyes!

Being in Atlanta, I was nearly constantly depressed by the ceaseless barrage of Atlanta Braves paraphernalia. I had acute fits whenever I saw the cursive capital A on something. Llew witnessed them. She thinks I’m psycho, and that I hold on to anger too long. I bought a Braves window-cling for my car.

Thursday afternoon we were checking out this neighborhood where we had eaten the night before. We were stopped at a red light, and there were two women talking to a bum on the corner. One lady had her back to us, and she had this rip between the pockets of her jeans. It was in such a place as to let us know that she was going commando in her TIGHT jeans. But that wasn’t even the gross part. She had one of her hands in a back pocket, and she was scratching her butt. We sat at that light for at least 45 seconds, and the whole time, she was opening and closing her hand. We could see that she was causing indentations in her cheek. It was a disturbing scene forever burnt into my memory.

Everyone in Atlanta is super-humanly nice. It may have just become my favorite place in the United States. Everywhere we went, people would chat with us about whatever. They all were genuinely interested in what we had to say, and they would add their two cents. Folks are just so polite and pleasant to be around. For example, Thursday night when Llew and I were returning to the hotel from the second Pixies concert, I flew past a security guard who was trying to flag me down, and who almost threw out his hip trying to chase us down. When he caught up to the car, he politely introduced himself, told us his history, and informed us that he was going to keep watch over us that night to make sure all was safe and sound on the hotel property. I expected him to start off with a “You punks these days and your fast cars!” But no! He joked a bit about throwing out his hip.

Yes, that’s right. In order to return from a second Pixies concert, that means that we had to return from a first. We went to TWO Pixies concerts. I was only going to go to one, but I didn’t want to be left in the hotel alone on Thursday while Llewellyn and her crew were jumping up and down at the second concert. So I bought an AWESOME ticket off of a scalper for 37 bucks (face value), and I got to look deep into the eyes of each pixie, except for the drummer. His eyes were blocked by the drums. It was so fun. I also got high. Everyone around me was smoking pot. I had no choice but to breathe the air that was around me. Pot stinks and makes me want to throw up. I jumped around a little more that night. I was a little looser. Maybe if there had been pot smoking the first night, I would have actually done something more with the boy I picked up at that concert.


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