Living With Madness 6(cont'd)
Current mood: awake
"Well, he's not a hard man to track..... he leaves dead people wherever he goes." Captain 'Red Legs' Terrell-Outlaw Josey Wales
summer was gone, and as bobby had predicted it had been great.harvest season came and went and we continued to do our thing.winter began to rear it's ugly head.i like the winter. when i was a kid it was because it meant the beginning of hockey season. as i got older it was because of the snow. before the first snow fall, it rains and everything gets all muddy and the vibrant greens turn to shit brown. the ground harden up and everything just looks dead. then the snow falls and covers it all up making it pristine and beautiful. i just love looking at a fresh coat of snow. also between halloween and new years there are some raging parties.
the first real heavy snowfall was deep. it hit hard and within a few hours there was at least a half of a foot on the ground. between bobby being in portland for ten years and me in austin for five, we really hadn't seen any snow in fifteen years collectively. it snowed once in austin, but it was more like icy rain.
the city was shut down for the most part, except for the busier bars. as usual , before we went out , we'd started our festivities at home. bretton came over and we went to castaways. on the way bobby and i hit everything in our sight with snowballs. cars driving by, street signs and lights, people. it didn't matter. and it was a blast. we had been at castaways for a bit , when someone offered to smoke a joint of blueberry bud with us. if you've never had the distinct pleasure of smoking blueberry , find some, it's fucking great, i got ripped. potheads are kind of flaky sometimes , especially when it comes to their weed. they are like wine connoisseurs. they know all these different kinds of strains and the different environments it was grown in. outdoor , indoor, hydroponic, clones, white widow, sour diesel... whatever. it smells good , i smoke it , i get high. yeah some weed gives me more of a body buzz than a head buzz, this cat i know, loma , grew some weed that made me feel like i did a couple of bags of heroin, but for the most part, i just smoke it and couldn't care what its' name was or anything else. as long as i get high.
so we were behind this big ass yacht that had been dry docked for the winter and as we were passing the joint around, people were heading for the club on the other side of the boat. bobby says"watch this, ..." and sizes it up, times it and lobs a snowball ala abdul-jabbar, over the yacht. the guy comes around the front of the boat and size "nice shot!" the snowball still sticking to the top of his head. he was a total stranger, and he took it really well, didn't even get mad . we all laughed and high-fived bobby and continued smoking this blueberry.snowball forgotten, i lean towards bobby as i hand him the joint. this hissing sound whizzes right by my face and explodes as it hits bobby directly in the forehead."oh!", he yells and sort of stutter steps, as if the snowball thrown was with the ferocity and velocity of roger clemens' mike piazza bean ball. "he domed me!" bobby says, and takes his hands from his head and there is still snow in the part of his hat where you can adjust the size, it's in the front when you wear them back wards. i lose it, everyone just starts cracking up. i look over and the guy bobby got with the skyhook is standing there pointing and laughing. "nice fucking shot!" i yell at him. bobby, being the sore head he is, gets mad we're all laughing and heads inside. a few moments later i go in and buy the sniper a beer.
while standing at the bar waiting for the drinks, someone punches me right in the back of the head.now , i don't fancy myself as a tough guy, but i'm not a wuss either, nor am i small. i turn around pissed as a mother fucker and there is only one person behind me, and he is easily six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter.i couldn't believe this little mother fucker just hit me. i lean real close and i ask, "did you REALLY just hit me in the back of the head?", ready to kill the poor kid. "no." he says vigorously shaking his head,"a snowball hit you." at which point i look at the floor , evidence melting at my feet. i scan the bar real quick and there's bobby over by the dj eying the ceiling , a devilish shit eating grin on his face. shit eating grin, now where do sayings like that come from? i can guarantee you, no one would grin with a mouth full of shit.
any ways bobby does this little jerk/spasm ala cosmo kramer, this"oops , busted" knee jerk thing and smiles at me , i add two shots to my oder and head on over. "you fucker," i say as i hand him his shot, jager what else?," i almost killed that kid, i thought he hit me. we laugh it off and down the shots.now, anyone who's worked in a kitchen knows that chefs are sick fucks with twisted senses of humor. i'd been doing this thing at the station where, if anyone bends over in the kitchen near me, i get behind them and start doing "the air hump", usually without their knowledge, while they bend over. the only person i never did it to was the boss' wife barbara, hey i ain't stupid, oh and the pro boxer, jesse... so the dj bends over his table, and bobby goes to town, looking at me smiling. he starts pretending he's spanking the guy, really getting into it. the dj feels the air from bobby's spankings and turns around, meanwhile bobby is still looking at me. now he's laughing because i am. the dj gets a little pissed and yells at him. "hey! what the fuck , dude, do you mind?" bobby , still looking at me tells him to shut the fuck up. "dude," the dj continues, using one of bobby's own lines on him, "do i come into burger king and fuck with you while your flipping burgers?" the smile from bobby's face fades, and we walk away laughing.
a little while later, the dj plays some sappy ass love song. bobby grabs a chair and starts dirty dancing to it on the stage. taking moves from strippers and old school burlesque shows. he's got half the bar totally cracking up. the whole time he's dry humping the chair, he's lip syncing the words and staring at the dj like he's singing to him. when the singers says , 'i love you, baby' bobby, with one hand on the chair, thrusts home the point and points at him. pissed off the dj goes and cries to the bouncers, who are all friends of ours. to which they laugh and say, "he did what?" this only further enrages the dj. we decide that , with someone pissed off , our mission here is done and head out.
at this point, there is probably more like a foot of snow on the ground. while outside waiting for bretton, we begin making snowballs to ambush bretton with. we get about twenty made before he comes out the door. we start bombarding him with snowballs the second the door cracks open. but, it's not bretton, it's the dj and his girl. we start laughing when we saw who it was, but don't stop throwing snowballs. the dj screams bloody murder, and begins to throw snowballs back at us. we both start cracking up hysterically , the guy totally throws like a girl. this only pisses the poor kid off more, and now the bouncers are throwing them too, all at the dj. the girl starts to fight back and she throws better than he did. we start teasing him about it and the guy just gives up and goes back inside, totally humiliated. then to top it all off, the girl gives bobby her number and says, "he works every thursday , friday and saturday night, call me." score! high five.
on the way home, it's more of the same,car goes by, snowball. cop car drives by, snowball. whatever was moving , or standing still, we threw at it.we get home and begin amassing a cache of snowballs on the hood of your upstairs neighbor, charlie's , truck. and just like we did when we were kids, we began plugging cars from behind the gmc jimmy in our driveway. soon the neighbors' dogs start barking at us, so we start plugging them too. the neighbors come out and yell at us to stop throwing snowballs at their dogs, so we start throwing them at the neighbors. they fight back and soon we have this great snowball fight going.
meanwhile, the guy driving the last car we had hit, had circled around the block to see where we were. all of a sudden from behind us we hear some guy yelling," so, you wanna throw snowballs huh?" now, we had NO idea who this guy was, but we thought it was either bretton, jeff, don, charlie or angel coming up from behind us to ambush us. we hid behind the drivers' side of the truck as our aggressor came up from the passenger side. when he came to the hood, he approached very slowly. i jumped up and blasted his right in the face with a snowball! " that did it, !"he screams, adding" now i'm going to fucking kill you." oh shit, we said in unison and ran into the house.
once inside , however , i realize that we have a glass front door, nothing will stop him from smashing the baseball bat he's holding as he heads back towards the house. i decide to try to reason with the guy.DUMB!!! he starts up the driveway and i tried to say something to get him to cool out and he swings the fucking bat right at my head! luckily i was sober enough to get out of the way. i try to talk to him again and again i dodge the bat. he's still going for my head! damn, i think , this mother fucker really does want to kill me. third swing and i duck, and he takes out my rain gutter. while i ducked i grabbed the lead pipe that was leaning against the stairs and came up swinging like babe ruth. all his wind comes out as i connect with his gut. now he doesn't want to kill me anymore, now he wants to breathe, and run. but, now i am the one who wants to kill. he turns and starts to run and i chase him, raising the pipe over my head with both hands. i bring it down upon him with enough force the crack his skull. and, thank god, he raises his arm in self defense at the last second and dodges a bit to the right. the pipe comes into contact and cracks his fore arm, bouncing right off and through the rear passenger side window of charlie's truck bringing me to my senses. otherwise i may have killed the guy, over a fucking snowball.the whole time, bobby is in his room, hiding under the mattress.
the guy falls down and starts crawling away, i kick him a couple times and then his wife starts screaming to leave him alone. which i do.three doors down is an ambulance so that's where he goes.i go inside and lock the door. ten seconds later, there's a knock at the door. no it's not the cops, it's charlie , and charlie is righteously pissed off.he just keeps saying over and over dude that's fucked up and i laugh,"sorry charlie, we want tuna with good taste. this just pisses him off more and he walks away, while bobby and i laugh like loons.
a few minutes later, i look outside and the place is crawling with cops.i call mariposa and tell her that we're surrounded by cops and to meet mew in washington park. i grab all the weed and money and bounce out the window over the fence and head for the park. but, there are cops everywhere, so i run to her house, where she finds me, passed out in her back stairwell an hour later.
the next morning at 7 am, bobby shows up tat her house. he tells me that 'the snowball incident', as it came to be known, was on the radio and that some huge"training day-looking cop" had come to the house looking for me.i must admit i was a bit unnerved by the whole thing,and hungover like a mother fucker.'damn' as george clooney's character in o brother,where art thou would say, 'we're in a spot'. after a day of hiding out at mariposa's, she got tired of us and we went home... after it was dark out.
the next day, "training day" called. it was a local city cop, who was now a detective. i'd played football with him in high school, so i was quite frank with him. it seemed the story the guy had given was this. being drunk , he couldn't tell them he'd been driving, so he said he was walking down the street , when two guys jumped out of the bushes and tried to rob him. that he'd fought us off and crawled down to the ambulance station. marlon, knowing me, didn't believe this, especially since the bat he had claimed to have been hit with had his fingerprints, not mine or bobby's all over it. apparently he had dropped it when he fell onto the sidewalk, or when i kicked him, whichever. marlon thought that the fight had been over drugs. this i assured him wasn't the case. so, i waived my miranda rights, which is something i do not EVER suggest doing, and i tell him the whole story, starting where i started with you. luckily, he believes me. so instead of catching a felony assault charge, i catch a violation(think traffic ticket) 2nd degree harassment. thank you MB! and i agree to pay half of the ambulance bill, $500.00! i pay it right then and there and head home. when i get home bobby has a joint already rolled and waiting for me, he fires it up , hands it to me and says, "dude, this is gonna be the best winter ever!" he turns on the tv and finds jerry springer.