bye bye skyler

I had just come from the cave of the musician I told you about yesterday. I'll call him W.O. although those aren't his initials. He was barefoot and spoke to me with heavy eyelids. My shiny black miniskirt was crumpled. Rosy, freckled cheeks. And when he walked me to the front door, I sauntered as slowly as reasonable just to count the stringed and brass instruments in his living room. His skin smelled like bar soap. Art Blakey was playing on his speakers. I waved bye, forgoing the nonsense of parting kisses and stomped down the sidewalk with an open Newcastle in hand.

On to Skyler's house and farewell party.

The night air was dangerously windy. It smelled like mountain junipers. My hair whipped around and I could see the trees bending over in slow windy cadence. Their green leaves twisted the reflection of street lights down toward my shiny skin. It was past midnight, I felt young.

I brought Skyler a 40, but he was long gone - mentally, not physically - so I chugged it myself. Marc lent me a warm shirt. It was green and black flannel. The 40 paired with the flannel instantly made me #1 obnoxious hipster at Chez Skyler's. Do I look like a halloween costume?

T.C. turned my olde english into a brass monkey. yum yum!

Beautiful, drunk girls danced to Shout Out Louds and Talking Heads near the fireplace and a few people were passed out on the lumpy red couches.

Gee W. took out his pipe in le kitchen and a couple drug whores fluttered over to him. The smell of pot pinched my nose so I walked out back. Kat played the broken organ keys, Pipe and Raj drank budweisers by themselves and the rest of us sat in lawn chairs under the swinging desert trees.

I explored their storage shed.

Pipe got hit in the head by a folding chair and Skyler split his forehead with a sprinkler nozzle. No pics though. sorry.

This is so my next halloween costume. not!

We met J at my apartment. He was in a bad way ... why do you think?

Guess again.

Then walked over to Marc's place and I played him my Allman Brothers Band discography.

Like Marc's new shoes? He and J went outside to smoke ciggies and gossip, boy-style. Baby and I preferred to hit repeat on Please Call Home.

Effing wonderful night.

The next morning, a thousand tree branches were lying in the street. It felt like the memories and dreams of the windy night party escaped our minds and placated the real world.