wanna look at the boat?
Dave F.
she's tall, blonde, russian.
she's with a guy. he's a friend, we figure (me and joey), and kind of a
weenie, but he must be alright if he sails dinghies.
so i'm being a jerk, making her laugh...
and i say (james bond, me), "wanna look at the boat?"
which, incidentally, is what we always said at my family's table if we
wanted to get out and smoke some pot...
she planted a kiss on me in the darkened lot by the heinous sow (boat).
i kissed her back. and her neck.
i'm seeing her tonight (her idea). sorry for squealing it all out here,
but i'm a little happy about it. i've been out of the game since the
ex-junkie/dancer woman with the big tattoos.
dave
Dave F.
get this - fucking bummer...
sunday night i get 2 emails and a phone message. i was out drinking.
we arranged dinner for tonight. meet at her her place.
monday night i arrived at her upper east side apt at 7-ish, she was
walking up the st in a sun dress.
kissed me on the lips, let me in.
the plan was dinner, she wanted to shower
after, she came out in a *short* skirt. sportin fur just about.
panties.
she looked good, i tell her.
she's hungry, i suggest thai food. she's been to thailand, many other
places.
before we went i showed her the cartoons briefly on my site
http://members.tripod.com/~d_foster/comix.html
we eat, i feel like a scruff in that neighborhood. i was dressed okay,
gap shit. but i'm talking fun stuff, sailing, art. work. i'm nice.
polite. i am that way in real life you know. sweet.
then we left the restaurant and she seemed a bit distant.
okay i say to myself, maybe the other night wasn't anything (although
she seemed _very_ psyched to meet me then). this crap happens.
a drink at her place, across a large table (her setup, like a
chessboard). she took a phone call. a longish one. then she starts
acting tired. she said i couldnt stay the night. okay, i said. she
perked up a bit.
we didnt talk long. among other things, she also told me that her
sister and her father like to "give each other shit".
i said it's late i'll go.
she fucking HUGS me goodnight.
so what was the difference? saturday i was busting her chops, me being
a bit drunk. the guy she was with wasnt a "friend" - he was sweet on
her and he brought her out of town for the weekend. she didnt even know
him that well. she treated him real nice didnt she?
conclusions:
a) i get bored hearing people "give shit", i bore myself "giving people
shit". i wont do it. not just for the hell of it. fuck it.
b) she wanted me to nail her aggressive-like. okay, but shit, i
thought we could EAT first. it was early man!
c) she's a flake.
have fun,
dave f
--
dave f.'s comix every tuesday at
http://members.tripod.com/~d_foster/comix.html
Dave F.
>
> the bitch! blech! a pox on her, i say!
this morning i realized she wore the skirt to wind me up...
the whole thing was like a bukowski story!
> i'm a flake, but i still fuck on the first date.
fuck, nothing. her behavior was meant to be an insult.
she sensed that i was happy about saturday night, so last night she
started saying how she had "blacked out" that night (no way, she
accounted for details) and that the scenery (boats/upstate) had only
reminded her of an old flame...
> wait. that just means i'm a slut.
do i write her a nasty email? no, i think she'd only enjoy that.
jesus, she seemed to "collect" my compliments for her last night...
loaded them into a gun to fire back at me
> oh, well!
sluts are fun. anyhow, i've already started to forget what she looks
like.
dave :)
Dave F.
>
great post dave f. you live three days to the rest of our one.
davef
Johnny Favorite (it means "The Little Girl Sells New Pens")
> the whole thing was like a bukowski story!
Didja hear? Brand new Bukowski biography, just out.
On the positive side: The guy who wrote it did an amazing job on the
research. *Much* better than the Neeli Cherkovski biography from a few
years ago. For instance, he talked to almost every single woman portrayed
in "Women" and got *their* side of things. Buk comes out looking pretty bad
from their end.
On the negative side: The guy who wrote it is an amazing dork. A British
guy who writes like he's got a broom handle up his ass. He has absolutely
no feel for Bukowski or his writing. He just LOVES discovering something
that Buk said that wasn't true, then he prances around in a circle like a
poncy little snitch repeating the "facts" over and over again in a sing-song
voice. I can't for the life of me understand why this guy wanted to do a
Buk biography.
Johnny Favorite (it means "The Little Girl Sells New Pens")
of a negative one.
It was a few months after I moved to Miami. Me and my new roommate K.C.
were spending all night on Miami Beach, as we often did. It was probably
four in the morning or so, we were sitting in the 11th Street Diner eating
eggs. I was drunk enough that time was "gapping out" on me: I'd come to and
not remember what had happened for the last ten minutes or so. I "came to"
and there was this chick hanging around my neck. We were both laughing
hysterically. I couldn't remember her approaching me or what we were
laughing about. To this day I still don't know.
I could use your chick description without much modification. Very short
skirt, every now and then it would ride up so that I could see the tops of
her hose and her garters. A few years older than me but not terribly
mature.
I got her number and we went out, I think, twice. She was a major party
animal. It costs an average of about 15 bucks to get into any club on Miami
Beach but she was a regular, she knew all the doormen and got us in for
free.
And then she just ... stopped. Our dates usually started when she got off
her job at a restaurant on the Beach around midnight. One night we'd made
plans to meet but she was already gone when I got there. I called her up
and she apologized, saying we could meet the next night. The next time I
called she had another excuse, and another, and so on. If I'd kept calling
her I bet she would have NEVER told me the truth, just kept putting me off.
The only thing I can figure is that I didn't move fast enough for her. I
think she was in more of a hurry to get to the sex part than I was.
Bitch.
Dave F.
> that Buk said that wasn't true, then he prances around in a circle like a
> poncy little snitch repeating the "facts" over and over again in a sing-song
> voice. I can't for the life of me understand why this guy wanted to do a
> Buk biography.
woah man it might burst my bubble to hear that he cried over women or
worried about money. but hey maybe i'm the real thing myself then, if
buk was a phony.
rear cover of davef novel:
Dave F, age 36, lives alone above a bar.
hey, not bad.
Dave F.
unless it ends with the romance dance. not that i agree with them (i
dont) but...
DIDJA BANG HER OR WHAT???
dave
Johnny Favorite (it means "The Little Girl Sells New Pens") wrote:
>
Essa
[snip]
> gap shit. but i'm talking fun stuff, sailing, art. work. i'm nice.
> polite. i am that way in real life you know. sweet.
>
> then we left the restaurant and she seemed a bit distant.
> okay i say to myself, maybe the other night wasn't anything (although
> she seemed _very_ psyched to meet me then). this crap happens.
>
> a drink at her place, across a large table (her setup, like a
> chessboard). she took a phone call. a longish one. then she starts
> acting tired. she said i couldnt stay the night. okay, i said. she
> perked up a bit.
>
> we didnt talk long. among other things, she also told me that her
> sister and her father like to "give each other shit".
>
> i said it's late i'll go.
>
> she fucking HUGS me goodnight.
Forgive my interloping here, but my guess would be, if you were
slathering your tongue all over her neck the previous night, she was
probably expecting much of the same THAT night. When she found out you
were a "sweet guy", she became stand-offish because she lost interest.
Girls like that are a waste of space and energy. They do stupid shit to
nice guys and and leave puddles of goo for girls who aren't, to clean up
after them.
> conclusions:
> a) i get bored hearing people "give shit", i bore myself
> "giving people shit". i wont do it. not just for the hell
> of it. fuck it. b) she wanted me to nail her aggressive-like.
> okay, but shit, i thought we could EAT first. it was early man!
> c) she's a flake.
Definitely B AND C.
-essa
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Share what you know. Learn what you don't.
Johnny Favorite (it means "The Little Girl Sells New Pens")
> woah man it might burst my bubble to hear that he cried over
> women or worried about money.
Hey. You've already *read* the biography, haven't you?
Johnny Favorite (it means "The Little Girl Sells New Pens")
> DIDJA BANG HER OR WHAT???
No. Didn't I make that obvious? If I *had've* banged her she probably
would have kept going out with me.
I like sex as much as the next guy, I just wasn't yet sure I wanted to be
sleeping with this particular chick. There were several things that were
just *wrong* about her. She was an awful braggart and I was pretty sure she
was a liar, too. Plus, 35 years old and still living with her parents,
working as a waitress.
Maybe I would have fallen for her anyway eventually. We'll never know now.
Dave F.
>
no! it isn't true! you lie!!!
Johnny Favorite (it means "The Little Girl Sells New Pens")
> Johnny Favorite wrote:
>> Hey. You've already *read* the biography, haven't you?
>
> no! it isn't true! you lie!!!
I got another package from Amazon today. In reading the biography that you
swear you didn't read I discovered that Red Sparrow has issued a couple more
Bukowski books. (Talk about a prolific writer: He's had four or five books
released SINCE HE'S BEEN DEAD!) One of them is called "The Captain is Out
To Lunch and The Sailors Have Taken Over The Ship." After he started
writing on a Macintosh somebody pursuaded him to start keeping a journal on
it and this is the published result. With illustrations by R. Crumb! Cool!
It's too bad we can't get Bob to read Buk. The whole thing reads like one
long Bob post. For instance:
> As we live we all get caught and torn by various traps. Nobody
> escapes them. Some even live with them. The idea is to realize
> that a trap is a trap. If you are in one and you don't realize
> it, then you're finished. I believe that I have recognized most
> of my traps and I have written about them.