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2000-07-31 | 05:39:32

on saturday night proper, i kicked it with two of my favorite people. last year at this time, they weren't even on my radar screen. funny how that works, ain't it? kinda gives me hope that a charming lad-aroni may be lurking a calendar page or two away. one would fucking hope.

so yes, back to the story already in progress. what we have here is a newly formed trilogy of terror. ok, not terror. i just did that to reference the movie title. more like, trilogy of... hmmm... trilogy of... never mind. we're just three friends, ok? why must you always put a "handle" on things? geez. chill.

so anyway, us three. you could cut the unspoken boy-girl, girl-boy, sexual tension with a ginsu, but there is something very cool about the ties that bind us. no, not s & m ties, silly. how many times do i have to get your mind out of the gutter?

there is a kinetic affection we share. i'd say it was an instant rapport, but it took awhile to get the necessary bandwidth. now all three of us are operating on dsl, having a good old time.

as with any threesome (out, damn gutter!), there are varying alliances or reasons for affections between each connecting angle. but it is all good, as they say. a strange path-crossing phenomenon that has us all feeling like eleven-year-olds. and acting like them. let's just say that part of the evening involved us eating pop rocks candy and sitting there slack-jawed, with mason-jar-wide-open mouths as our eyes darted back and forth, watching each other enjoy 100% snap-crackle-poppin' fun!!!

the venue was a bbq in the newly purchased backyard of boy unit. girl unit #1 and i carpooled over to find boy unit watering his lawn like any homeowner should. after seeing all those small new york apartments, his pad looked to be the size of an international airport. very cool, with hardwood floors and freshly painted grey walls. and his own laundry room... i dream of such fluff and fold freedom.

so after a bit of a delay in the kitchen due to a lack of certain staple items (which necessitated a trip to the grocery store), our bbq was in full swing.

the best part of the evening was being on grass. nah, we weren't smoking out or nuthin'. we were sitting on his backyard lawn, which was still kinda damp from his never-ending watering duties. it was dark and cool and quiet, except for the occasional cricket and the pop-roll-roll-roll sound effect caused by some kind of sporadic pod-dropping tree, which was cleverly positioned for maximum percussion over a tin-roofed storage shed.

we sat in a triangle of indian-style-folded knees, occasionally collapsing onto our sides as we talked. girl unit #1 digs her some cloves, so she started puffing. boy unit wanted a regular cigarette, but had none. trying to stay clean, as it were, by not having cigarettes around, as it were.

suddenly, a little lightbulb went off over his head and soon i could see the rustling of clothes in the closet through his bedroom window. he came out all smiles, cradling a little wooden box of semi-stale cigars. puff daddy lit up and then girl unit #1 decided to try her hand at it.

as they sat knee-near-knee, with him coaching her through the stogie paces, the conversation took a double entendre turn.

"suck it harder," he instructed.

"but, there's only one thing i suck that hard without inhaling..." she retorted playfully.

what's that rolling noise? oh, that was me, the third wheel leaving to busy myself in the kitchen until the hormones had subsided along with the fading cigar smoke. ten minutes later? whew! back to (relatively) more civil (ahem!) decorum.

as i stepped into the house and greeted boy unit's pacing, workaholic cat, my driving third wheel thought was, "gotta find a boy. a good one. hmmm...how am i gonna get one? hmm."

later, back on the lawn, we all collapsed on our backs in midnight-weary sprawls. boy unit, me, girl unit. she and he were both smoking cloves by this point. i stared up at the stars (ok, so there were, like, only four of them. this is l.a., for god's sake.)

there was one particularly bright star straight above me. i stared at it and dared it and locked eyes with it. when i wished upon it, my eyes were tearing. salty drops rolled down under the cover of my folded-up elbows. ears got wet. i was so sad and so lonely. just willing that star to listen to my wish.

"i want a boy. a good one. who will 'get me' and appreciate me intensely. oh, it's gonna be so great when he comes along. you'd better fucking send me one. you punk ass star."

blink. blink. tears cleared. i continued my star gaze and noticed a soft, wafting cloud of clove smoke sweeping gracefully a foot above my elbow points from girl unit's direction. two beats later, a soft, wafting cloud of clove smoke sweeping gracefully through the same air lane from boy unit's direction.

ahhh...an american beauty plastic bag moment to be sure.

there is beauty in sadness.

don't let those circus clowns tell you different.

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take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:

health tip
2005-03-16

health tip
2005-03-16

moving house
2004-11-19

quibbling with quitherfeather
2004-11-17

catcher in the wry
2004-11-16