Thursday, February 24, 2005

Carmen Phillips

I woke up to someone pounding on my door. It was going to be a long fucking day. My head throbbed as I fought to keep out the noise. The sorry ass excuse for a pillow I had over my head wasn’t working. I threw it off and got up and to go to the door. I opened it wide, trying to make my anger felt. A man in a suit with dark sunglasses was staring back at me, fist still raised mid-knock. He leaned back and looked at the doors on either side of mine.

"Who are you?"

I would have thought FED, but he was way to slick.

Nunya

"Nunya who?"

I can’t believe he fell for it.

"Nunya Goddamn business, that’s who."

I started to slam the door but his foot breached the threshold. I slammed it anyway and heard a crack when the door hit the flat of his palm. The calm I saw on his face evaporated into a glistening sheen on his forehead that trickled down to his reddened cheeks. Not one to normally back away from a fight, I took two steps into the room.

"I just got here last night, I don’t know who you are looking for…but it ain’t me."
I looked at my jacket and boots on the floor. They were the only things I needed to run. The cash was in my jacket and the knife was in my boots.

He saw me look at them and lunged, snatching up my coat.

I couldn’t let him take my money. I grabbed the nearest thing that wasn’t bolted down, it just happen to be the bedside lamp. Now, no matter what you have seen in the movies or on TV, hitting someone over the head is not pleasant. It doesn’t make a snappy sound, it’s more like a sickening thud that instantly creates a nauseating curl in your belly.

Thud

He hit the ground, it was a clean hit, no blood and he was still breathing.
I put on my boots, grabbed my jacket and walked out the door. I thought about leaving a note.

"I DIDN’T DO IT"

Well ok, I just gave him a reason to look for me, I hit him over the head. But I sure as hell wasn’t the person who took his money or whatever he was missing.

Shit

Where was I going to go now? I wasn’t ready to leave San Francisco.

I wandered down Market Street in the throng of people headed for lunch. Tourist snapped photos and pointed at odd looking people but they paid no attention to me. I breathed in the greasy air, tinged from a thousand grills firing up to serve the masses.

It was going to take a big lie to get me settled anywhere, but I was prepared for it. In The San Francisco Shopping Center I found what I was looking for, what I needed, to pull of the lie. A cheap bustier to push up my tits some tight fitting jeans that hugged my ass and spiked heals.
In a public bathroom I washed up, changed clothes and stuffed my dirty ones into the bag that was given to me when I made my purchase.

My hair wasn’t right, it was too long and I didn’t want to pay for a cut. I helped myself to a blow dryer and some hairspray in a mall salon—it was twenty minutes before anyone said anything.

"Who are you?"

"I’m friends with Jana."

I finished the last section and pulled it back into ponytail that brushed the middle of my back.
Satisfied I sprayed it liberally then turned to the woman questioning me.

"Thank you."

I raised my eyebrow and walked around her exiting the store.

In Macy’s it was my lucky day, M.A.C. was having free makeovers. It wasn’t my style but after slapping on some moisturizer at the Clinique counter and spritzing myself with perfume. I walked on over. The ooo’d and awed over my cheekbones, my lips. The only thing I could thank my mother for was my looks, they helped me get by when there was no other way. My fathers Mediterranean heritage gave them longevity, despite the smoking and drinking. Everyone said my mother looked like Carmen Phillips, whoever the hell that was…

When they were done a girl tried to hold up a hand held mirror for me to admire myself. I brushed it away and walked over to a full length one nearby.

My arms were lean, my stomach was still flat, I was a bit hipy from the crap I ate, but it worked. You could barely see the small lines that I noticed forming around my eyes. With a flip of my ponytail I walked away from the M.A.C. counter. On the street I hailed a cab.

There was one thing I was good at, now I just needed to find someone who needed my skills.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005


The Old Days Posted by Hello

Savannah in San Francisco

I was in deep shit. Of course I had I.D. it was it was tucked into the same place my ticket was—but could I risk showing it to them? Hell, if they pulled me in they were going to find it anyway. I fished it out. The officer took it from me, looked at it, then passed it back to the other officer.

"Can you please step off the bus ma’am."

I followed them off the bus, I could see through the glass into the station—people were still waiting, apparently nothing had stopped because I had temporarily checked out. I looked to my right where two patrol cars were blocking the driveway, their lights bouncing off the roof of the depot and flashing across my cheek. A group of taxi-drivers stood around with their hands in their pockets watching—maybe hoping that I would be desperate enough to fight.

I should be in San Francisco.

Slow motion in my brain—the second cop walked back to his patrol car to run my license. What would turn up? Shit, I couldn’t tell you, it had been so long since anyone had even said my real name, let alone ask it. Savannah Marie Brown was a relic that had long ago morphed into Sarah Brown, Marie Browning and one time even Browning Marie St. James. Don’t ask me where the fuck I got that one from.

I wiped my nose the officer in front of me was just standing there watching his partner—waiting to arrest me.

The 2nd cop came back and handed my license back to the first.

"You’re along way from Georgia, Ms. Brown."

"I find it boring to stay in one place too long."

"Where is your luggage?"

I shook my head and lied. "Probably in San Francisco"

"He looked at my license one more time then handed it back to me."

"There’s your bus, stay out of trouble. " He pointed to the bus next us whose driver was watching the show through the rearview mirror. Then the smug bastard just walked away.

I climbed onboard the to find one empty seat, and rows and rows of open eyes. Fuck off—I was pretty sure that is what it said across my face, my whole fucking body for that matter.

The driver an enormous black woman with skin the color of brownies eyed me up and down. She spoke in a baritone voice revealing perfect white teeth.

"Am I am gonna have any trouble out of you?"

"No ma’am"

I walked to the open seat sat down, and shut my eyes.

They didn’t open again until we were crossing the bridge into the city—I couldn’t see shit. People were pointing at Alcatraz and the pointy building that marks San Francisco’s skyline but for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes off the giant cargo cranes across the bay.

Some fucker I dated told me he made $75 bucks an hour operating those Tonka toys.

As the bus pulled into San Francisco, I realized I needed someplace to stay—and quick. It was nearly nine and that shit I took in Sacramento was making me feel like damn retard.
I limped out to Mission street where the waiting cab drivers ignored me. I got into one without asking. The asshole got in and asked me if I had any money.

Did I have any money? Good question. That crazy old lady had shoved nearly six grand into my hands. It was burning a hole in my pocket—not because I had a need for material bullshit but because it made me feel like I had to be responsible.

I flipped a twenty over the seat of the cab.

"Take me to the nearest, cheapest, clean, hotel."

The driver started up the car drove exactly four blocks to a Days Inn Motel. The asshole didn’t even offer change.

"Keep the change." I flipped him off but he drove off without looking.

I stepped inside of the lobby and was greeted by a bored, pimply faced pot head. There was so much grease on his face I could fry with it.

"May I help you?"

"I need a room."

"Single occupancy?"

"Do you see anyone else?"

"How will you be paying?"

"Cash"

"You need to put down a credit card."

"Up front"

He looked suspicious.

"We aren’t supposed to do that."

"Who is we? I don’t see anyone else."

"How many nights"

"One for now."

"$100 dollars."

"Fuck off." I turned to walk out.

"Ok fine, you blow me and I will give you the state rate."

I smirked, then reached down like I was going to tie my shoe. I felt the knife in my boot with the tips of my fingers, then thought better of it.

"Maybe next time kid." I smiled my best fake smile.

I turned to walk out.

"Wait"

"You can have the room for $49, just give me twenty bucks for a dime bag."

I handed over the cash he gave me one of those credit card keys.

My room was a shit hole on the first floor, I had to walk outside to get to it. There was homeless man puking up his guts, leaning up against the wall. He made the whole area around him smell like bile and cheap wine. I opened the door to my room, it was the size of postage stamp and had a single bed clearly not made for a 20th century adult.

I collapsed on it. I dreamt of that bitch that cost me my job. The asshole clerk and the cop in Sacramento, he was kind of cute. Kind of.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Nowhere to go but forward.


Posted by Hello
Hell I had already hit rock bottom, there was no way to go but up. My other choice was death or jail, which as far as I am concerned was worse than death. Greyhound leaves every hour on the hour, I scanned the schedule board waiting for something to jump out.

San Francisco

If you ask me it was full of freaks and vegetarians, I shouldn’t stick out too bad.

24 dollars later I was tucked into a window seat pretending to be asleep. I should have bought some fuckin headphones. A little girl, about fourteen was making her way down the aisle toward me her belly hanging over her low riding pants. I could smell her damn bubble gum from where I was sitting.

Jesus

She sat down and started pulling things out a pink Hello Kitty backpack. A cellphone, a magazine, some more fucking gum. She dialed the phone and damned if she didn’t start talking, and keep talking for an hour straight. I yelled at the bus driver.

"Hey! Isn’t there a no God damn phone rule."

He looked at me in the rearview mirror. The little bitch pouted with her smelly purple glitter gloss then rolled her eyes.

Just outside of Sacramento I pulled my knife out and started cleaning my nails. That shut her up. I had a half an hour to eat and get back on the bus, but I needed to score. It wouldn’t be too hard, there was shit for food, Burger King and some damn bar that was closed.

I kept my eyes open for a dealer and pulled out a cigarette. Three puffs in, a man with a stick up ass walked over, swiped my half eaten food into a garbage can that he was carrying and told me to get out.

I did, after blowing smoke in his face. He started to grab my arm, and thought better of it. I walked outside still keeping and eye out for my score.

It wasn’t far off. Across the street I found a meth head with some Percocet he stole from his grandma. Two pills, a couple of drags on his joint and a 1/5 of Vodka later I climbed back on the bus with a mouth full of gum and promptly passed out.

"Domestic report at 1711 N Street, return"

"Copy that, car 67 in route"

"Proceed with caution, weapon not known wait for backup"

Somewhere in my haze I knew something wasn’t right. When the realization struck my heart started pounding so hard that it took all of my control not to kick out and scream. I slowly opened my eyes rubbing them.

I saw the officer standing before me his hand on his gun, another not far away. Where the fuck was I?

I looked around, still on the bus. We must a pulled in and they couldn’t wake me up. Jesus it was fucking dark already.

I stretched and did a girly little squirm sticking my unbound breasts out.

"What time is it?"

"6:30", the officer answered.

"I must have fallen asleep."

"Must have." he looked smug

I stood up grabbing my jacket. The officer held his hand out for me to stop.

"What are you doing here?"

I tried to look confused, hell it wasn’t hard I was confused.

"I bought a ticket." I pulled it out of my back pocket.

The officer took it and looked at it.

"Ma’am, this bus is scheduled for maintenance, you’re still in Sacramento."

"Fuck!"I said outloud

"Ma’am, do you have any identification."

"Shit" I kept that one to myself.

A Boy Named Sue


Posted by Hello

The old lady made several winding turns through hopeless housewives and belligerent drunks. Bells sounded, coins dropped and I wanted a whiskey sour more than I wanted to see what the bat was up to. I sat down at the closest bar and watched the old lady continue on. Her pink feathers fluttering with her jerky little stride.

When I couldn’t see her anymore I turned to the bartender who nodded at me and continued to empty ashtrays. Then he took his sweet fucking time wiping down the bar before taking my order. When he set the drink on the counter I sniffed, it was barely bigger than a shot glass. I knocked it back unceremoniously and held up my fingers for two more. I made short work of them and decided it was time to be on my way.

I lit a stolen cigarette and was about to slid off the chair when the old lady suddenly appeared next to me. She was holding a wad of cash.

"Where did you go honey?"It may as well have been the fucking hope diamond, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. It damn near sparkled as she held it out to me.

She smiled, "take it sweetie."

Sonofabitch—I wanted to snatch it run. My eyes glazed over with need before I snapped myself back. She was setting me up, as soon as I pulled it from her fingers the old cow would probably scream bloody murder."

No thanks" I muttered and started to walk away.She grabbed my arm."Look honey" her voice got two octaves deeper."I laid on my back for 15 years before a Johnny cleaned me up and took me home. He was the biggest ass in the world thinking he could make a whore a wife—but I loved him for it. I have two kids that won’t talk to me, and grandkids I have never seen. So you take the money."

She pressed it into my hand and squeezed so hard I thought her bones would break. The old lady walked away before I could say anything. I looked at the wad in my hands and shoved in my pocket.

I followed her path until she turned a corner and I could no longer see her feather cap.
Johnny Cash was suddenly in my ear, telling me I needed to move on. —I needed to get the hell out of Reno.

At Wal-Mart I bought two cheeseburgers at, a pair of jeans a wife beater that fit, a long sleeved shirt, a jacket, 2 tubes of lip gloss and the blackest mascara I could find.

I made my way back to the hound, I needed to get lost for a few weeks, find a job and pray that Wyoming didn’t catch up to me. Where to?

Friday, February 11, 2005

The Old Lady and The Silver Legacy


Posted by Hello

Sometime early this morning we pulled into Reno. It felt like a cat had taken a piss in my mouth and my shirt smelled like rancid meat. The jeans I had stolen from the launder care had somehow become covered in black grease and sagged to my hip bones exposing four inches of my belly, which was currently very empty. I had fucked my way into the motel room I was currently in, a long way from the strip in Sparks—the rooms current occupant was snoring on floor. The asshole said I stunk.

I kicked my feet up over the side of the bed deciding to risk a shower, I soaped up profusely then watched the gray water swirl around my feet. The cheap motel soap was no match for my scum and was nothing more than a lump the size of a quarter when I was done. I left it to the drain with the rest of my funk.

Haphazardly drying off my hair I walked naked through the room until I found assholes suitcase, pulling out a pair of chinos, tidy whiteys and a wife beater. Jesus I hope this bastard didn’t have anything contagious—I pulled on the briefs and clothes and slid back into my boots. After tucking my blade back, I pulled 67 bucks (that’s all he had) out the wallet laying on nightstand, and took the pack of Marlboro lights and bic laying next to it.

Slipping out of the room, I lit up and realized that these ugly ass pants were a serious disability. I rolled them up until the middle parts of my boots were exposed and kept walking. Taking a deep drag of the Marlboro I filtered the smoke out slowly through my nose—it burned like hell but it reminded me to keep going. I needed money, I needed food and I needed to get the hell out of Nevada.

It wasn’t long before I found myself back at a city bus stop. When the bus pulled up the driver eyed me, staring a little to long at my chinos. My fingers itched to punch him.

"How do I get to the strip?" I asked shifting my weight uncomfortably—like I always do when someone stares at me too long.

The fucker licked his lips then replied, "I’ll get you there."

I thrust a buck into his machine then sat down in the middle of the bus. An old lady with a pink knit hat with feathers in it stared at me, it was 75 degrees and she was wearing a sweater. Her wrinkled lips were pursed, exaggerating the red lipstick that already bled into the cracks around her mouth.

She clutched her white leather pocketbook—as if. I stared back and was about to tell her to mind her damn business when she suddenly spoke.

"Do you need help honey?" she said in shakey voice.

I stared back skeptically.

My hair was dripping on my shoulders I brushed if off leaving glistening streaks on each shoulder, I caught the drivers eye in his review mirror, and flipped off as he licked his upper lip again.

The woman was still staring at me waiting for an answer. Could I really take advantage of a granny.

"I can help you" she sad. Her lips curling around yellow crooked teeth that I knew were her own.
"How?" I jutted my chin and gave her my best who the hell are you look.
She smiled.

Thirty-Five minutes later I found myself following the old lady through The Silver Legacy.

Thursday, February 10, 2005


This isn't me, but it's how I felt.  Posted by Hello

Somewhere in Texas

You’re not going to believe this shit—four days into my new job and I already got my dumb ass fired. Hell, that’s a record even for me. Now you don’t know me yet but I don’t have the best of luck and this latest incident just more proof. So you ask, why did I get fired?

Because some dick sucking whore was too good at not doing her job. All I wanted was a goddamn broom, instead I got the whites of his eyes and her big hair bouncing up and down.

Wrong place, wrong time.

So how bout it? Are you assholes ready to play? I don't think you are ready, because if you want my story you can't have a weak stomach or a faint heart because it sure as hell ain't pretty.

Still here? Then read on…

Two weeks ago outside of Cheyenne I got put into the tank. Drunk offmy ass again, I decorated the stupid Pigs' uniform with vomit. (For the purpose of this entry we will call him CHUCK). Bastard thinks he's Native his mama is nothin' but poor white trash. Good thing I threw up on him because if I hadn't I would have really been in trouble.

Muthafuckin pork rind bastard.

Anyway back to reality, there I was ratcheted down tight. They through me on the bed without bothering to book in me on any charges. Hell, I hadn’t done anything except rearranged some bitches face. Dumb cunt thought she was cute trying to steal my action.

Back to the drunk tank.

I was passed out when they put this big barrel chested mutha fucker in with me. Next thing I know Bubba is trying to make me a bitch. Dumb pigs didn't bother to search my Levi’s so Bubba got it in the neck with the Kersaw 4 inch. I slipped out in all the commotion.

Won't be going back to Cheyenne anytime soon. (by the way that fat mutha fucka lived-I didn't kill the asshole) I did the only thing I could do then stole some cloths from the 24 Hour Launder Care and headed to the on over to the Depot to catch the Hound.I slept for two hours, woke up in Tulsa, don't remember what fucking bus I got on but I knew I wasn't far enough from Cheyenne. Next time I woke up we were in Dallas. HELL no you think their some bastard hicks in Wyoming? Texas will set you straight on that front.