i do. my fingers are numb from taking the weekend off and suddenly having to grip the stick of chopper one and typing up reports as it takes me home via autopilot and i don’t dare tell this new division of my ailment less they quit this special training and bring in a man half my age to replace me and send me down to the evidence room with the ladies and the retirees, but being 109 sometimes brings you to your knees.
meesh and simone and mr. know it all and i jetted back to simones penthouse after drinks on friday night and we cracked open several different types of vodka.
meesh likes to make big tall glasses of love and it’s weird having three libras in a room because we’re balance and love and beauty and miracles and i was none of the above that night as the photographic evidence suggests, i was just there. someone for the ladies to dress up like barbies, but i didn’t mind. you wouldta either.
simone went through her closet of gifts from suitors and entered the wing where the furs were stored. we tried on minks, and beavers, and more minks. some were fake. some were not. i couldn’t tell the difference, they all fit me a bit snug.
chuck sang “fat man in a little coat” as the ladies laughed and cuban 33s spun in the wheels of steel while right outside the window on a hidden patio a fountain bubbled and i could of sworn it was rain.
me and chuck were far from being the stars of the show. it was all about the ladies who had enough swagger and grace and energy for the both of us. if it was a doubledate it woulda been a high school boy’s fantasy, but it wasn’t. the ladies only had eyes for the man with the leather appointed tahoe and this is the busblog, as you know.
i kept quiet for most of the night, which might stun some of those of you who know me but i swear theres so many different tonys. and when im overlooking the city in a place like simone’s theres not much more a guy can add to a conversation that zips through topics faster than a woman speeding through the yellow pages while not having a good grasp on the alphabet. so me and chuck just chilled and like catholics stood when we were instructed, spoke when it said so and got on our knees when the music ended.
as the night turned into day, meesh laid down on the couch and we talked and said that we’d miss each other. she’s moving to aspen to be with her true love: freedom. she’ll meet a rich young doctor and you might see her in first class and recognize her and if you do say hi for me too.
simone and chuck were in the laundry room taking advantage of the lack of competition for the machines so i asked meesh if she wanted me to put a blanket over her. she said no. then i asked her if i wanted me to put my mink coat on her and she had her eyes closed and smiled.
and when i closed the door she looked like an asian deb on her mummy’s couch with her grandmother’s fur, surrounded by flickering candles throwing shawdows on the bronze statues not at all affected by the opened french window.
some people might get nervous walking down wilshire in the mist in the wee hours looking over their shoulder for a cab and not finding one, but i don’t.
this, after all, is the city of angels.
and the streets and the sidewalks and the alleys and the condos are filled with beauty at all hours.