creative writing

Before Coffee

 As I was sitting and waiting for an open table at Starbucks with a electric outlet, I sit next to my intended prey waiting for vacancy. The occupant taking my space at the time was a large black man dress in sweatpants and ragged tank top. In Los Angeles some people like to dress down, to dress ironic by wearing ragged close or clothes with pre-made holes in it, this was not this mans case. He clearly lived on the street, not obviously but it was clear to me after a few minutes of waiting on him, observing his slumped manner tattered shoes and the thing that I notice in a lot of people who live on the street here in Los Angeles, nothing, the lack of ambition in their eyes, the lack of soul. Living in Los Angeles, Downtown Los Angeles to be exact, you sort of grow desensitized from the epidemic of homelessness in our city, as you pass city block by downtown city block the chances of you not seeing a homeless person or someone begging are rivaled by lottery odds or hitting some sort of impossible bulls eye.

        You can see the defeat, the lack of care and the sorrow behind it within the eyes of these poor souls who maybe by mistake found themselves in a bad place or purely through their own device find themselves out of luck. The sorrow was deep in this guy as he sat there, looking at his phone then looking around, looking at his phone then looking at me, that when I see it, the sorrow, the lack of fucks to give. I had not got my laptop out of my bag properly yet when he starts to get up, it looks like he is leaving he is facing me as he stretches to his feet, immediately I notice that unfortunately for both of us that he has no underwear on and his shirt or pants are doing nothing to help him with this horrifying dilemma. I do not want to look, as a matter of fact I can not look away to not look at this mans' bare ass, its unusual for one, for me. outside of porn to see a mans; bare ass and not only that, that was the draw in, I could not stop looking because of the grossest of grossest scabs on this guys left ass cheek. If I am doing anything I am underestimating how nasty it was, something that one of your friends would send you to gross you out level gross.

        I sat frozen in complete discuss and insignificant horror as he paraded this scab in front of me like a protestor on picket line for better wages, I can not get the stunned look off my face even for politeness sake, the thought of his scabby bare ass on that seat made me want to fucking puke my guts out. He did not leave but he did get up and go outside leaving his phone charging and his hoodie on the back seat of the chair I wanted to sit in, use to want to sit in. I move outside, the coffee shop is on a street corner so the outside is divided by the entrance of the coffee shop. As  I pack up my stuff and begin to move, there is a young man sitting close to the order area, he must be waiting for a electrical outlet like me because he is just sitting there, he did not order coffee, he did not even pull his phone out, oh well, not my business and the only reason this is noticeable is because of what he does next.

 

 

            I reach the door to the patio area of the other side of the coffee chop and sit down and begin to  administrate my website and dig for weird, silly and strange news stories to post. IT is an on going thing this administrating but sometimes I like to go to my near by coffee shop and sit and people watch for a little while before return to my apartment and continuing to administrate and dig for stories, write music, think and create. Just I I start typing the description for the latest podcast, the kid from inside the store whips the door open and as though he had my attention says something to me, it is sharp and at first I could not make out what he was saying he said it fast and caught me off guard, I did not even know if he was talking to me. He said something along the lines of , " I took that shit!" , " I took that shit?" I thought, I second guessing my self start checking to make sure I had all my stuff I came to the coffee shop with, phone , check, computer, duh, wallet, never left my pocket. after reassuring myself that I would not have to chase this kid down because he whodini'd my wares away I shrug it off and go back to my administration. A coffee shop employee rushes outside a few minutes later and peers down the direction the kid went, the look on his face was one of confused absurdity and a little humor. I ask him, assuming that the reason he is peering down the street was the kid, what did the kid do, the coffee shop employee answered, " he took the tip jar!" At that very moment he got called back to his post and I shook my head with slight chuckle and returned to administrating.

Insomnia hole

I'm sitting in bed, what time is it ? I do not know, I do not want to look either, too tired, too something else, too, sick? I squirm all night, I suffer from insomnia and when I wake up like this I squirm, I get comfortable, then uncomfortable, I start to fade into slumber and then thoughts. This night is different though, it is not the same insomnia I usually have, the kind where I stir and my mind races and instead of fighting it, getting upset and wondering, what the fuck is wrong with me? I am tired, why can't I sleep, now I revel in it, accept it , squirms and all. I feel my stomach gurgles tremble in protest of, whatever I did earlier, drinking, I remember drinking and listening to an audiobook, a literal past time, no big deal I thought, I always drink, I always listen to audiobooks.

 

                           "BURPPPPP" my stomach debated, I feel relieved somewhat but I feel a tightness in my stomach, I know this burp is the first of a series of gastro intestinal discomfort symphony my body wanted to conduct. I finally muster up enough energy from being conscious to look at my phone lying next to me, it's 3:45 am, do I want to get up ? stretch? no, other than the stomach issues my head feels gross, like I drank too much last night but, it didn't feel gross right away, it was minutes later. stomach gurgles again, more flatulent air expels from my mouth as I try to manage the discomfort by undulating my mid section and  gulping a little then sighing, the sighing more from the frustration than anything. Then I start remembering or, I remember that I do not remember going to sleep, I am trying to chill out on my drinking so I immediately feel bad about this discovery, I try to think harder about what happened, I am not fully clothed, I think to myself so I must have undressed before bed. I drank a lot, I remember, I started at two in the afternoon, and drank myself to sleep, apparently.

 

 

                   The feeling of guilt, basic gluttonous guilt rushes like blood to my extremities over me, disappointed in my lack of willpower to stop drinking before I pass out, then I think well at least I am home and in bed, i was not out making a full of myself or burning some bridge present pre or post tense in my life. I was contained in the safety of my own private wasteland at the time, my audiobook, my drink, and me, my mind dancing with poison and ideas while being told a award winning story, this is what relaxing should be. At which point that I over did It I do not know, I remember that the alcohol was delicious, flowing and light on me, sometimes alcohol makes you feel heavy and exhausted but, not this time at least, I felt good which explains the amount of drinking, plus I was constantly moving, motivating my metabolism to process the alcohol more efficiently than it would if I was lounging around. I also remember that the last time I ate was maybe around the time I started drinking, two sausages and two hot dog buns, that it. I needlessly panic about that fact that I have not eaten because I know that the possibility for puking is higher now, at this very moment I taste that familiar taste in my mouth.

 

               I panic a little wondering if I should make way for the bathroom now or try to wait it out, the only thing worse than vomiting is waiting to vomit, more than a minute is almost intolerable, more than likely you are on all fours or lying down on the microscopic feces particle stained bathroom floor. I take the gamble, I feel like I am stronger than the urge to vomit right now, i can flex away the convulsions, i swear bro! But I can not stop burping, my stomach will not stop gurgling. I began to look for my mary jane, my pot, my weed and I do not see it, I grab my pipe and try to take a puff of what was left last night, nothing, damn. I turn my phone light on and look around for my container that holds my buds, my cannabis, my sweet lady maria, and it is nowhere to be seen and then I feel it, the next burp was no regular burp, it was bile, in my throat.

 

 

               I hop up and make my way to the bathroom, I honestly do not know if I'll make it , it was a close call but I made and immediately dropped to my knees, I convulse once then a burst of vomit and a few more, then a dry heave or two, I spit and cleaned around my mouth and left the bathroom. I realize my weed was in my car so I get dressed meagerly, leave my apartment and head down the stairs to the lobby then outside to my car. I open my car door and  there's my weed sitting in the passenger seat, I notice I feel  a lot  better than I did a few minutes ago thinking, " damn, sometimes you just need to puke, I guess" . I go back up to the apartment smoke a bowl and at this point I feel better, now I can enjoy my insomnia in the unreasonably alert peace I have grown accustomed to, however though, being sick, exhausting all that forced energy at once burnt me out, I did fall back to sleep for a few hours at 6:30 a.m. until about 8 a.m.  i'll take it.