Saturday, September 01, 2012

Someday


This place is amazing, the blue carpet that goes on and on and on —we should come here more often. Welcome, we’re saying to everyone who stares, turning around and around but I need to smoke some pot so we get back on the T where of course Sean is announcing all the stops, she really should be a conductor, wait, maybe Sean is the conductor and look at the way the light is vibrating the train and somehow we're already at Revere Beach and everyone's in shock at the station. Sean puts on my blue glasses that don't have lenses, there's lots that can fit in my purse and maybe these lovely senior so-called citizens don't like my silver lamé jacket or maybe they’re just jealous because I've got rollers in my hair too and honey, the contrast between green and pink is simply stunning.

The beach is empty because of all the wind, where’s the boardwalk I guess it blew away and they replaced it with this cement walkway, hi ladies, hi ladies, hi ladies we keep saying but everyone stares blankly and look at those funny condo-type things except who would want a condo over here and everything is so bright it reminds me of San Francisco but where am I going to smoke pot with all this wind. I'm glad I brought this mohair sweater and Sean takes pictures, luckily I have enough spray in my hair to keep it in place and it's freshly flamingo pink in the sun and I can't figure out where to smoke pot so let's do a few more bumps here on the ledge surrounding the ocean, just cover your face with my sweater oh CK One they finally figured out the formula girl so we can breathe, yes breathe, breathe, breathe and then we’re out of coke but don't worry I’ve got more K and yes oh yes the ocean I love the air and this sand although it's awfully hard to walk, don't you think it's hard to walk is it always this hard in the sand and how do people do it I mean driving would be worse although don't get me wrong, no one's driving on the sand it’s just us stumbling like our platforms are going down into the earth but honey, are you wearing platforms, I'm not, and look at all that sky although I need to get something to eat, should we go somewhere to eat or maybe I'm not hungry, are you hungry, I mean we should probably eat something, right?

Okay, you're right, it is kind of cold —Quincy Market, yes, let's go to Quincy Market! Today we are tourists— every line on the T. Except the Orange Line. I don't like orange —it isn't good for my complexion.

Of course, Sean gets obsessed with Maverick, Maverick, Maverick, Maverick Station so we get off but the exit is all fluorescents and I'm looking in my purse for my sunglasses, where are my sunglasses but Sean keeps saying fabulous — fabulous. And very. Blue.

We are on the blue line.

It should be of note that we rode the entire blue line today.

An accomplishment, indeed.

What about that ad?

That ad?

A $799 living room package grill?

I don't know what it means.

Package, girl. Opening soon.

On Tremont Street.

In the fabulous.

South End.

Don't go there.

I'm not going there.

I saw you there.

When?

Last night.

I saw you there, bitch.

Never again.

Never again.

But how do we end up at the Prudential Center — oh, right, Sean was craving mall cuisine — Flamer’s, to be specific, yes, honey, flamers. I try to get them to sell me one of their cucumbers but they just look at me like I'm on drugs oh wait I am on drugs and I end up with Panda Express stirfried rotten vegetables, my favorite.

Quincy Market: we convinced ourselves there would be sofas in the bathrooms since the tourists get up so early and need to rest, right, rest, honey we need sofas but the bathrooms at Quincy Market are almost as bad as the music at Bobby’s. Now, don't get confused – I'm not talking about Champagne's house because remember that bitch lives with me, although it is true that the music at my house can be pretty damn awful, don't get me started about Priscilla again. But, when I say Bobby's of course I mean the worst bar in Boston, and we all know there's a lot of competition. Sean and Abby still go there sometimes — they say the boys are cute, but that's only if you're looking for 12-year-olds or chickenhawks wearing fake gold chains and baggy white T-shirts and way too much cologne, okay?

So let's have a salad — oh, what is this in my mouth, help, what is this? You didn't tell me this restaurant was called Horrible Salads of the Earth and Sean says we've started so many fascinating conversations with strangers today, so Reverians and Bostonians must not be as snotty as we thought, perhaps it just takes a little bit of CK One to improve the picture and did you notice those windows, those windows are immaculate!

Get a picture of me in that potted plant.

But there’s no plant.

That's what I mean — I am a potted plant! Thank you.

Back in the food court, here's what our new friends are saying:

Jason: I like tuna casserole, I eat most anything.

Nicole: He’s a human vacuum.

Some woman walking by: Facial hair, it’s a bitch. Surgicreme, Nair — it doesn't work.

Some guy walking by: Whoa, get a look at that, whoa!

A group of teenage girls: Were you on Ricki Lake?

            Then we go all the way to Porter Square for the macrobiotic Japanese place, and also for Red Line realness, but of course they're closed. They’re always closed. Someday Cafe forced us into Davis Square and there are so many k-holes in that bathroom, honey let's get to the Fens so I can smoke some pot already, okay — I'm getting more and more strung out by the minute, what time is it anyway? Never mind. I don't want to know.

 

6 comments:

Claire Cramer said...

Whenever I look at the page and see you've written about Boston my stomach goes in a knot. This one is going to be good.

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Lovely to hear from you over here, Claire! And yes yes, almost all of this new material will be part of my next novel, Sketchtasy, oh my...

Glad you're excited :)

Love –
mattilda

kayti said...

they even got entertainers in quincy market. These entertainers are so funny, but really who care about what they say. More importantly who was that fierce bitch I saw on Oprah or was that the Ricky lake show. All I know is that bitch was fierce and she did not have any facial hair.

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Kayti, *you* are fierce! I think I saw you on Oprah or was it Geraldo?

Love--
mattilda

kayti said...

I was on Geraldo , Oprah and Ricky Lake. You were watching on your radio of coarse.

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Yes, that radio is fierce :)

Love--
mattilda