August 27th, 2008
“Son of a bitch, you’re running up the meter!”27 comments
August 20th, 2008
"Hey bro, remember me? You wrote that story about me in the paper."3 comments
August 13th, 2008
“It’s the Californians, man, the Californians are the worst.”15 comments
August 6th, 2008
The middle-aged man I picked up at Vendetta is in a hyperactively verbose lather ...0 comments
July 23rd, 2008
When I step into the obese old woman's apartment5 comments
July 16th, 2008
The obese old woman at Fred Meyer has a bad hip and a wheelchair...8 comments
July 9th, 2008
“...I need to take a shower first and wash all of this blood off.”6 comments
July 2nd, 2008
“So I’ve got these two women in the back of my cab who just refuse to get out...”8 comments
June 25th, 2008
“My friend’s getting divorced, and he’s really drunk,” says the bartender...8 comments
June 18th, 2008
There’s nothing like a good Friday night, and I’m referring to the money.3 comments
[May 25th, 2005] That's where you hide the bodies, right?" I say this with one of those laughs you let loose at something utterly unfunny.
I had picked this guy up at a bar off Hawthorne. He had great rockabilly hair, high cheekbones, old-fashioned tattoos, and once he got in, he said, "Hey, is this Mark Lanegan you're listening to?" And we were off and running.
This guy had played in one of those great '80s bands that were called cowpunk back then; we joked that they'd be alt.country now. Del Fuegos. The Blasters. Jason and the Scorchers. The Meat Puppets. "Oh god, I loved those guys!" I switched out the Lanegan disc: "Here, you'll love this-it's his contribution to a Junior Kimbrough tribute compilation."
We got to his place. I turned the meter off and let him hear the rest of it. He said, "Man, this is good. Hey, come into my shop-I have something to show you. I know you'll like it."
I don't think so. I mean, I'm looking down a long, dark gravel driveway at a film location scout's wet dream of a meth-lab setting. At 3 am. I make my unfunny joke, and he goes oh ha-ha, no seriously, I gotta check it out.
Oh, hell. The Spidey sense isn't tingling, so I follow him through the tall grass. He opens the door and turns on the light, revealing the oldest car I've ever seen outside of photographs. "I've been building it for three years." Oh, wow.
I check it out while we talk about Studebakers and Packards and really old motorcycles. "Somehow I knew you'd be into it."
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