Monday, January 26, 2009
I always live in weird apartments.
They are always painted strange, bright colours. I don't paint them. they come that way.
a couple of years ago I lived in Cambridge and my walls were bright neon lime green, then i moved to allston and lived in a strange attic apartment with a loft. I lived there for 12 hours before I was ruthlessly attacked by an army of bed bugs.
I moved out the next day.
a few years ago I lived in Malden in a studio apartment. I called it the broken apartment. everything broke.
The ceiling collapsed. the steam heat blew though the wall and the wall broke.
It had strange prehistoric insects. You got to see different ones every day.
The heating pipes were the worst.
It was the longest winter.
every night it sounded like there were an army of trolls with golf clubs in my walls banging on the pipes like blue man group. I'm not even exaggerating.
Then i moved back to Dorchester.
Now the walls were bright red and I had a roommate.
the walls were fine
the roommate had a bad habit of masturbating in the living room on sundays when i wasn't home.
the problem was I would come home.
it made for awkward moments. especially when i came home with friends.
I moved out.
Now I live in a studio apartment.
I call it the boat, because its so small and the ocean is down the street.
it has the smallest bathroom and the bathroom has a plastic folding door.
I usually piss from the kitchen.
Its fun and I can do dishes or cook dinner at the same time.
its all about multi tasking these days
how can i be the most productive
i'm just doing my part
like a good american
not to get sidetracked, but my pipes are clanging again
and I need to pee
and i'm hungry
I think financial success can be marked by how loud your heating pipes are
Friday, January 23, 2009
Basically because I'm nervous.
I'm preparing to play, so to speak.
I'm not thinking about small talk or drinking or having a good time really.
I kind of psyching myself up and preparing and making sure I'm ready. Inside.
anyone who has ever been to a show knows I can get pretty into it.
So, do not take it personally.
As to why I am quiet and have an edge after a show, that's another story.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
The corporate terror chain restaurant of mass destruction and the girls in the hood.
I lasted 9 days at the corporate terror chain restaurant. I was a waiter.
The only thing I can compare it to is the 9 days I spent in a Holding in New Bedford.
A holding is a place where you stay in the limbo of "after detox and before a half-way house" for long term drug treatment.
The only thing I can compare The Holding to is prison. I've never been to prison, but the guys in the holding said it was kind of like that.
My first day at the Holding was a nightmare. Maybe not a nightmare. A nightmare is worse. I will say that It was a long ride from my comfy spot at the High Point Drug Treatment Program(Irony). First thing I noticed was it was in between a methadone clinic and a department of social services office. This was all in an old abandoned warehouse next to some polluted river. Everything was gray.
They brought me to the door.
On the other side of the door people were yelling. Chaos.
They let me in.
Welcome Mr McPherson. We've been expecting you.
Come pee in this cup.
They take me to the bathroom.
There is a big giant mirror pointed directly at my penis.
It makes it look bigger than it is. It is "slightly bigger than average" so I've been told. For the record.
They stand behind me with a clip board.
They stare at the mirror.
"Pee!" They say.
I can not pee. The pressure is too much. It takes about 45 minutes for the drips to add up to a sufficient sample.
The whole place consists of one common room, a kitchen/dining area and about 6 dorm style rooms that house about 5 or 6 people each. There are couches lining the common area and games like Connect 4, Uno, and Monopoly
It is always cold.
The AC is always blasting.
Everyone is Portuguese. Everyone in New Bedford is Portuguese and some sort of Fisherman. Everyone talks like they are Italian and in a mob movie. Everyone talks like they are tough. Some guys collect the deodorant, soap, and shampoo. The deodorant, soap and shampoo is given out in a point system. For example if you sweep the floor you get 1 blue chip. Deodorant costs 5 blue chips. Once you make 5 blue chips you can buy some deodorant.
1 of my roommates has his bureau full of deodorants and shampoos that he sells and trades. He has been here for 9 months. He is the man to see for deodorant. Some say he is hiding out from the mob. He looks like it. I don't think he's doing a very good job.
Evidently a few years later the director of this program was fired. I guess you were just supposed to be given deodorant.
We go outside for a smoke break. Everyone must go out in a line and be counted. There is a large gray fence and a few picnic tables. Everything is gray. The sky is . The ground is gray. The fence is gray. The people are gray. god is gray. everything is gray and melting into one big gray. Its the grayest.
Tommy from Charlestown says "don't worry McPheeeaason I'll get your back down here too."
Back at the detox on my first night I almost got beat up and thrown out.
This place was in a wooded area and had a smoke area out back.
Wild animals would walk past. Little foxes, raccoons and skunks would roam past and look at us through the gray chain link. We watched them. They watched us. Both mildly entertained by each others presence. Most of us were doped up on either Librium, Klonadine, Methadone, or all of the above. We just sat there and smoked and thought about how our lives had turned into a stinking pile of shit.
Then the animals would walk by. It was nice when they walked by.
2 not so nice guys started luring a raccoon over by throwing bread at it. The raccoon crawled under the fence to get the bread and they were going to bash its head in with a big stick.
I said something like "oh you guys are all tough gonna beat up a little raccoon with stick." They said something along the lines of "we'll beat you up. What are you gonna do about it?"
Tommy from Charlestown said, "I'll do something about it"
They backed down. It was like a movie.
I didn't know Tommy very well. He seemed like a really tough dude. Just had that presence and evidently a reputation. I just met him, but he liked the fact that I was from Dorchester and he was from Charlestown. These other guys were from Brockton. So he got my back.
I look back to that moment as a life saving experience.
Last time I saw Tommy he was on the street.
If you start analyzing your life and all of the possible outcomes of different instances and situations and decisions it can mess with your head.
Back at the holding
smoke break is over and its time for dinner
everyone is hungry. All there is to do is eat.
There are a lot of potatoes and rice and bread
a little meat and some canned veggies
not the worst food
Some days they take us to an outside meeting during the day
we would walk in a line like a bunch of grade schoolers
everyone would stare at us
there was trash on the ground
sometimes we would stop at a playground
next to a freeway
it was hot
it was September but the sun was still there and the grass was long
and there was us
a bunch of straight up fuck ups more than lost
playing soccer and sliding down slides and swinging on swings
What a site
In the mornings they had this psycho disciplinarian. She was about 65 years old but tough as nails and really seemed to like her job. She would come into our rooms and bang on stuff to wake us up. Then we had to make our beds. She would check.
If it wasn't just right she would tear the blankets off and we'd have to start over.
This was at 6am.
then we would go to the room and sit there for a few hours til check in, then some games, smoking, and then lunch.
This was the longest 9 days.
I would say that I've had it pretty good compared to some people.
some people are in this shit for life. right now. for years.
gone forgotten lost behind walls
so my 9 days at the terror chain restaurant of mass destruction and the girls in the hood.
wasn't really so bad
It was like this Holding and that's the only way I can describe it.
I do need to find a job still.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
A: You smile and wave :)
Given that the default setting around here is the middle finger and a scowl the only way to insult someone is to either A. Smile, B. Wave, or if you really want to get them you C. Smile and wave. This really drives people crazy and will bring them to an overwhelming state of anger and frustration. This is best used when trying to cross the street, waiting tables, or walking by your neighbours. Given that my neighbour has never once even acknowledged my presence I don't use it often but since they may someday scowl or give me the finger I keep it handy.
Today I was trying to cross Columbia Road with my big-ass bag of laundry. Finally, I saw my opportunity to cross so I went for it, as usual with crossing this street I am risking my life because it is frequented by large amounts of angry hurried Massholes. So, I am trying to cross the street when a massive SUV with 2 crazed Latin women comes flying in off of Dorchester Ave. I tried to move faster but it wasn't fast enough for them. They started screaming at me in Spanish and giving me the finger. I stopped in front of their vehicle and gave them a genuine smile and wave. This really got them angry. They then whipped past me and I continued to smile and wave. They then stopped in the middle of Columbia road and continued to yell at me while I continued to, you guessed it, smile and wave. ahhh. Now if they were really in such a hurry why would they have time to stop?
Its so gratifying being so happy and friendly and it seriously pisses people off. Angry upset people hate happiness and happy people. That's why in the restaurant business they say "Kill them with a smile" Gets them every time. They also say that if a table is being an asshole and he's happens to be bald stare at his baldness. This fucks with them too, but I guess this is for some other blog, some other time, somewhere else. Hopefully somewhere warmer.