1999-12-13

How the other half lives...

Maybe it's the company I keep, or maybe it's just the nature of what I do in my spare time, but strange little vignettes seem to unfold around me at any given time. Last night, after our show at Jacque's, we were loading out our gear and the percussionist for Car Models Blue and I were completely fixated on this tranny prostitute making the rounds of the immediate neighborhood. She'd been watching our show at Jacque's until midnight or so, when the bar shut down. Outside, about 20 minutes later, we saw her get out of this shiny black enormous pickup truck that was BOOMING "Turn the Beat Around" from what I imagine must have been a very expensive stereo system. "Lookit, lookit," the CMB percussionist hissed, "I think we just witnessed a, um, transaction."

"Really?" I squealed. We stopped hauling gear and watched. She sort of aimlessly wandered up the street, until another car pulled up alongside her. She got in the car, and off they went. Two minutes later, the same car came around the block, and the driver let her out. "What d'you suppose happened," I asked of no one in particular, "Maybe the guy in the car thought she was really a girl?" The two of us stood there, agog, completely engrossed in our seedy speculations, until Steve noticed us. He looked at me, and chided, "Now, Lisa, are you fetishizing somebody else's existence?"

"I sure am, Steve," I burbled, "Do you have a problem with that?"

The rest of the night wasn't nearly as exciting. A discourse from Tom about why men have nipples, and then leftover Chinese food before bedtime.

That's rock-n-roll. Hell, yeah.

lisamcc at 10:31:32

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