Monday, May 16, 2011

Tacky

The good news is that he's staying at the Eldorado Hotel, so at least if it's terrible I still get to see the inside of the hotel, right? I'm exhausted but horny, or maybe just horny so that I don't feel too exhausted, and the hotel is further than I would walk otherwise, maybe that's good because it gives me extra exercise or maybe it's bad because it just makes me more exhausted, always hard to tell but anyway here I am, walking through the huge wooden door and here's the lobby, here's the hallway, it goes on forever, strange wooden beams in the ceiling but not really beams just decoration and once you've seen one hotel you've seen them all, right? I used to love walking into these hotels, but that's when I was turning tricks, now I'm just having bad sex and thinking about turning tricks, I mean not really – luckily I don't need to turn tricks right now, but at least there's a payoff at the end, right? I mean a payment.

Anyway, here's his room: knock, knock, knock-knock-knock – a friendly rhythm. Hmm, no answer, that's kind of like a trick too – oh here he is, opening the door in the pitch dark, naked, hey how you doing I say in that annoying casually masculine hookup voice that I can’t avoid and what is he saying: I've got someone else here.

I think of saying well, I can join in, but I can tell that's not what he means, so I say okay, turn around, more walking, why did I just say okay like that? I mean it's not okay. Oh well – here I am, walking down the street again, trying to remind myself how pretty it is, until I actually do get to that place when I'm staring at the light in the sky, now this walk is definitely too long though – okay good, the railyard, how did those yuccas get so big, I don't remember them being that big – the one I planted in my garden doesn't have the red flower yet, so I just planted a yellow one next to it, to see if that will stimulate the growth, okay I'm finally home.

I send the guy that just consists of the word tacky for 30 pages – wait, he actually responds. No, that's an email from earlier: are you partying? What? I respond: And no, I'm not partying – obviously you are, and it's so attractive with your JuiceAcceleration. JuiceAcceleration is the product he advertises in his email signature. Really. I mean I changed the name, for whatever reason, but you get the point.

He does respond to that one: I'm not partying. I send him 30 pages of tacky again. He actually responds to that too: lol I get the point. Oh great – now we're up to lol. But an apology, where's my apology? I already watched public sex porn, wondering if I'll ever be in a scene again where everyone's holding each other like that in total abandon or at least something that looks like abandon, coming on the floor, wiping it up. When did my landlord call, to tell me that the plumber called him and said he couldn't get in? What do you mean he couldn't get in, he didn't even knock. My landlord says something about coming over with him, is there any time that's too early – yes, not before 11.

But now I'm confused – I don't really want the plumber to come over my house when I'm not here, with or without my landlord. At least I wrote all this down – I was going to get ready for bed, but then I thought wait, let me do this first. Now I'll get ready for bed, feeling a little better.

No comments: