Tuesday, May 8, 2012


This picture makes me happy. It was the last weekend Bionic came for a visit, in August of 2010.

Bionic had taken the bargain bus up from Long Beach. It was also to be the last month of my marriage. I was completely broke, having just been cut from unemployment due to an unforeseen technicality, and I interviewed for a $15 an hour job before I picked up Bionic from the bus stop.

The theme of our weekend was freeloading. An acquaintance from high school who randomly showed up in town that first night bought us a round of drinks. He was making his money on shortsells in an undesirable city in California that he had moved to for a job, sight unseen, before accidentally making a baby with someone he quickly broke up with. He was counting the years until his daughter turned 18. I was jealous of him at several points in the conversation.

As Bionic and I walked our friend to his car, strangers sitting in a pickup politely offered us a joint. We thanked them but declined, and Bionic decided to do a bit of late-night shopping. She held her own in the hippie store turned ecstasy party before the saronged shopowner approached her. I took pictures from outside on the sidewalk, a safe distance from all the self-massaging. When Bionic joined me again, she said with a straight face, "That man is naked under that sarong." OK, everyone in town, play to type.

Bionic thought I was obsessed with the sarong guy. It's true. I couldn't get over that a punk like that could even have a business while I had nothing. That guy made me feel like a loser. Just the fact I was comparing myself to that trust fund baby was a bad sign. Still, the freakdom is a source of great inspiration for me. I stopped by two weeks later to see if I could get some updated pics of the shopowner (for Bionic, of course). Alas, the shop was no longer.


  1. Oh goodness, I can't stop laughing. This appeared to be typical life in a carefree town.