book the second - on wednesday, I decide to leave for new york that night
as put forth in book the second, I traveled light. final inventory with which I flew to new york:
2. clothes on my back
3. my danpurse
- - - poi chains
- - - digital camera
- - - photo albums
- - - wallet
- - - car keys
an interesting thought occurred to me after I left my house. I had no extra clothes. I was to appear before a judge the very next day. while pimpin, my clothes were not exactly appear-before-a-judge respectable. how very. I wasn't overly concerned. despite the "fight the man" bravado in book the second, I had a feeling it would be more like judge harry t stone from night court. he'd ask a question, I'd answer, dan fielding would say I should go to jail, and I'd be sentenced to $50 plus time served.
in the ontario airport, I was harassed and entertained by The Man. I had a little danphitheatre going for my impromptu didgeridoo concert which eased their security concerns and their curiosity about my "pool cue" luggage. I also spun poi for them for the same reasons. seriously - the line of plane-boarding hopefuls waited whilst I embodied bread and circuses for the centurian guards.
I arrived in new york mostly well rested. on the plane, I'd wanted to lay my didge by the window next to me. twas not to be. I was stuck in a middle seat. no matter what the infomercials tell you, it's difficult to share a seat with a dideridoo. so the plane flight was less comfortable than I'd hoped. cab to joe's place? uneventful. joe and I said our heartfelt greetings, discussed plans for the day for about two minutes, then back to sleep. his roommate's parents were staying in the guest room (pay attention, that will be important later in the movie), so joe and I lounged incestuously in his bed. after we were all all settled, but before sleep, "I really like it when you come and spend time out here", quoth he.
joe donned some respectable clothes. we formulated plans for our errand boy day. we lit out for court.
we only almost lit out straight for court. first, we had to stop at The Lawyer's office to sign some stuff. I offhandedly remarked about our pending court appearance. the lawyer said that if it went poorly, we should ask for an "adjournment to retain counsel." good thing we asked.
then to court. we walked right past the court building as it's all patched up like an exquisite corpse. when we turned around and went back to out intended destination point, we saw a sign telling us we'd found the wrong place. we went around the corner to the new and improved entrance. as per the norm, we were harassed by the man about security. not per the norm, however, is how we were harassed. all the security folk in the lobby came over for autographs. he must have made a dozen people promise to go see manic in exchange for an autograph. manic, by the way, just opened in a bunch of new cities. check your local listings. the new theatre in new york in which it's playing, is also playing pokemon... the marquee is quite humorous
like trinity and her motorcycle, we made it through security without losing too much blood. we came face to glass with the nice lady playing solitaire. after tearing herself from her game, she gave us new sheets of paper for the bailiff's eyes only. she told us to wait outside courtroom 2. we found CR2, saw a queue standing outside the courtroom and stood at the end. after a minute I sat. after about 5 minutes, half the line was sitting. after 30 minutes, something happened and everybody got up and started trudging into courtroom 3. we saw nobody go into courtroom 2. we poked our heads into courtroom 2. court is in session. I removed my fedora at the request of the bailiff as we found seats.
the first defendant is called. she went to the front... after a few seconds, it's clear she speaks little to no english. her crime? improperly packaging shellfish. after some runaround regarding her interpreter, The Man concluded that she should return in a couple of weeks.
next defendant: accused of excessive *mutter*. he wants to plead not guilty. the court appointed lawyer (think markie post meets murray hill meets wayne newton) advises against it. not guilty is his final answer. so he has to come back in a couple of weeks. before leaving, he is required to hang out and wait for some paperwork.
next defendant: accused of excessive noise (I later ascertained that's what the first guy's crime was as well). he pleads guilty. the judge tells him that it will be dismissed if he promises to keep it down, in the future. the germans are a peaceful people. and good things come to those who wait.
next defendant: c'est moi! at about the same moment as I finish my shuffle to the red and white plastic "defendant stand here" placard, The Man muttered something incomprehensible. the lawyer translated for me, "he said ACD. that means that if you don't do it again within the next 6 months, the charges will be automatically dismissed." I say ok.
how anti-climactic is that? I didn't have to answer any questions, provide motive, discredit witnesses, object, explain that I must live in order to blaive, nothing.
joe gets about the same treatment. except after the ACD verdict, The Man asks some questions about the fliers, why he did it, etc. I was jealous.
off to the sprint store, where we need to perform a "transfer of liability" in order to shuffle plans in order to make it so we can share the cool plan which will include texting. we both learned that neither of us were the "authorized user" on our own respective account. so we made some phone calls and straightened that out. if you use text messaging, in a few days, let me know and I'll want to text wicha, baby (all night long).
we both had business calls to make. so we decided to wander while on the phone. we wandered to
the middle of nowhere.
I realize that that doesn't look TOO middle of nowhere. but keep in mind that we're in the financial district in manhattan. you just don't see empty pieces of skyline like that.
a friend of mine was at the waldorf astoria doing business stuff. we'd talked about getting together for lunch, so I tried to find her. I knew her first name, the nationality of her last name, her company name and what conference she was attending. I found the conference she attended. I feel like I almost found her. but not quite. I even tried out the thing I read in esquire a while ago and offered the concierge $20 in exchange for a little extracurricular information. twas not to be.
joe and I had lunch at the "boulenbert" which isn't really a french restaurant. it's just "the bull and bear" in the waldorf. lunch was good, not as expensive as I'd expect. despite not being a french restaurant, it seemed like half the staff, and the guy at the table next to us, spoke french.
it came time for joe and I to part company. due to short notice of my trip, joe already had plans. so he and I start making calls looking for something for me to do. had hairspray not been sold out, I'da seen that. alack. one friend that I called said that she was on her way to the airport, headed to LA. and she's returning to new york on monday. keep in mind that I'd arrived in new york that day and I was to leave the following. how crossing paths is that?
I ended up seeing kiki & herb. as I later found out from the guy who plays kiki, boy george sat in my row and thought I was cute and liked my hat. after the show, I got together with jared. we went to a gay bar, saw a drag king show (MC'd by one murray hill), and sang origin of love. we also checked out remote lounge. there needs to be a clone of that place in LA. needs to needs to needs to. I wanted to answer the phone with a line from a pr0no movie I saw when I was about 8 years old... "too good to bump and ready to hump." but I didn't.
due to uncertainty in joe plans, and the liklihood that the guest room was occupied, I crashed at jared's house after we got a late night falafel. I went back to joe's crib bright and early in the morning.
we met the parents for lunch
we saw winged migration, the not-much-translation-needed english version of le peuple migrateur, which I'd seen in france. if you haven't seen it, go see it. it's such an amazing feat of cameramanship. and this movie says so much about french movie-going culture compared to ours. it's a documentary about the migration of birds. it was in the top 5 of box office hits in france for months. months. think a documentary could ever been in our top anything? titanic doesn't count.
from the theater, I departed for the airport.
I was hanging around the pizza place inside the airport when I saw this The Beautiful People girl walk by. she was even wearing spikey heels and pants with laces. I figured she was headed for LA and started bargaining with god to have her seated in my row. though she was dressed in black, not yellow. on the plane, I take my middle seat and swallow it with these two spoonfuls of sugar. first, it's an emergency exit aisle. hellooooo legroom. second, I put my didge in the overhead compartment. I settle in to await the coming of the cute girl which will indicate the departure of my soul. passenger on my right approaches... not the cute girl - it's some guy who looks like a hardcore linux advocate. ponytail and all. passenger on my left approaches... fratboy surfer. rats. naptime.
I woke up and watched some history channel thing about hitler, then underdog, then went to the back of the plane to stretch and hang out with flight attendants. I joined their game of scrabble. the cute girl is seated a couple of rows from the back. I casually ignored her and played some scrabble. I hit a triple word score by spelling misery with the S tacked on to the end of the pre-existing book.
after a setting for a spell, playing scrabble and having fun with the flight attendants, I started talking to the cute girl. I learn that she is a designer, lives in new york, started her college career majoring in psyche, but dropped out. I mosied on after a while. on the long walk from the plane to baggage claim, I was walking next to her and offered to carry her bag. I had seen her set it down with a huge thud and she was in those spikey heels. I carried her bag and we talked more. turns out she also used to work in a freakshow doing electric chair and fire eating. she was taken by my poi spinning.
after retrieving her bags, she started calling her airport pickup friend. I hung out with her while waiting. I taught her how to play a didge. the friend is later and later. I offered to give her a ride. I had thoughts of the first episode of 6 feet under. after a while, she accepted. she talked to her pickup friend who told her to wait. to not accept rides from strangers. bah. she had enough luggage to choke my little car. we got most of her bags in the trunk. in order to accommodate everything, I put the top down, she sat on one of her bags and straddled my didge.
we laughed at the absurdity. the parking lot ticket taker laughed at us. the cop, as we drove out, laughed at us.
the wind laughed hardest.
out in hollywood I hung with her and three of her friends. I played didge for them, taught the lot of them to play, showed them pictures, and had a jolly old time. I told them all to come to faire tomorrow - though I didn't expect them to. I exchanged numbers with all of them. they's cool peoples.
I feel like it's the end of one of those run-ragged weekends. but you know what? it's saturday at 7am. the weekend is just starting. stay tuned for book the fourth after the rest of this weekend.