part 2

Subject: Hi.

To: MackAttack

From: BoPeep

Date: 07/02       5:17p.m. PDT

Mack,

Sorry I haven’t responded for a few days. I’m okay. I have read your letter a few times and it was nice to hear you back to your “old self”.

Joel left me. He just quit his job and moved. He didn’t talk to me about it. He didn’t say a word. He just left me a note that said “it’s been fun” and that was it. I thought we had something. Obviously, he didn’t. I don’t know what his trip was, but I heard he got some really great job offer in San Diego, so he moved. You’d think he would have said something to ME, but oh well. Whatever.

Screw him! (Well, enough of me babbling on about him.)

You know, I was thinking, if you’d move your music focus more towards something more modern you might have some relief. I mean, haven’t you been banging the same door for a long time, and always getting blocked? Music is music. Maybe doing something else would give you some fresh perspectives. It would get you out and around people, and maybe have some success. What are you doing for work? You don’t mention that.

I think you’re better off without HER, you know. She never seemed like a really honest person, if you ask me. And, you were never really happy. But, then again, I’m sure she’ll turn back up on your doorstep. She seems like that kind of girl. She won’t let anyone or anything go that easily. Just as soon as you meet someone else she’ll get wind of it, and be back. You know, I’ll be able to tell you “I told you so” so don’t bother pooh-poohing it.

Mack, I think you should find some new focus. Find something to do that’s not so serious……date, play musically, do something’s new and different. You’ve been beating the same cow so long I’m sure it’s meat is tender by now…mush. So, avoid any further animal abuse and try doing something else, you know?

I have to rush. I’m late for work. I’ll write you soon. Keep care.

Love

Aimee

 

Subject: Happy 4th of July

To: MackAttack

From: BoPeep

Date: 07/04      9:27 a.m. PDT

Hi Mack,

I always think of you on Independence Day. <blush> I mean, it was my first time, you know. (Even though you didn’t believe it.) I think it’s so cool we chose then. I can’t remember how or why, or who’s idea it was (probably yours). You were so much into irony and all that deep stuff.

Life is life. You know how it goes.

I remember every moment we shared….I miss you.

Ta, Ta – your little Jayzoo

p.s. I could have sworn that I saw you last night when I was working. Was it you? I tried to find you, but the place was so crowded. Maybe I was just seeing a mirage?

 

Subject: Where are you? Please answer me.

To: MackAttack

From: BoPeep

Date: 07/08       10:02p.m. PDT

Mack,

I’m home from work early, it was an early out because it was so slow. I figured I’d give you a chapter in life, because it’s been bothering me. I don’t know who else I can talk you. You know more about me than anyone I know.

You brought up my Mom (in that mean letter of yours). You must know that I moved out of my Mom’s place about 3 years ago when she got married to that Boy Toy, I think he name was Javier. It didn’t last very long, and she hounded me to move back in. I didn’t. She met another guy soon after, and then dumped him over the newest one. I expect that she’ll end up tying the knot with him. I don’t really GET the attraction Mom has with men, but she’s got it. She gets older and older, and the men get younger and younger.

Fate. I guess.

My sister, Gil just moved back here. She’s out of prison for that drug charge. (You must remember, because I think we were still together when she was sentenced.) Anyway, the fifteen years turned into eight? Seven? Whatever, years in jail and three on probation. Something like that. I don’t get how it works.

Gil’s gained a lot of weight since you last saw her. She looks JUST like Mom, now. They could pass for sisters. (God! I hope I don’t end up looking like them.)

So, Gil and Mom and I went out to dinner. It was going to be a family thing (brother, V, declined. I’m starting to think my brother is the smartest one in the family.) So, I drove, because Mom’s car was being used by her boyfriend, and Gil doesn’t have one, yet.

Do you know that I still have the same old car that I had when we were together. What a surprise, huh? You thought it was junk then! It’s still the “old bomber”. (Remember when you named it that?) It still has the stains on the back seat <blush>.

It was awful. I really should know better than to try and go out with both of them. They both really drink and smoke a lot. Non stop! Even though it’s illegal to smoke in bars they just lit right up. The manager came over twice to ask them to put them out. They ignored him. He just gave up. At least they didn’t smoke in the restaurant. Gil has the weirdest way of talking. She uses fuck/fucker/fucked/fuckee/fucking for pretty much every other word. At the restaurant she said to the waiter “I want a fucking steak, fuck! Rare! Don’t fuck it up. Fucker.”

Remember how Mr. Proust, the English teacher, used to say tht people only swore when they had a small vocabulary. He was right!

Mom and Gil had about four scotch/rocks while we were just waiting for the table. It wasn’t a very long wait. About the time the first course came they were probably already drunk. They sure were loud. At dinner they ordered two pitchers of Sangria. I was driving, and had stopped drinking with one glass of Sangria. (I still can’t drink. One glass makes me woozy.). I was like the excess baggage. They talked TO each other and about me, like I wasn’t even there. I just listened. They weren’t very nice, either.

So, after dinner, they had a few more after dinner drinks in the lounge. The restaurant was trying to close so the manager came over and told us the last drinks were “on the house”. I think he’d do anything to get Mom and Gil out of there. I think if they’d delayed any longer he would have given them all the cash from the register.  So, as we were finally leaving Gil decided that she wanted to go visit some old friends. Mom seemed to know these people, too. They were jazzed about it. Like “that’s great, yeah, lets, why didn’t we think of that sooner”.

Oh, goodie, huh? I was pretty much ordered to taxi them there. Hell, I can understand why animals caught in traps gnaw off their own limbs. I’ve had that feeling.

We ended up in this really awful mobile home park. It’s over in that really bad part of town. Gil’s friend turned out to be the rankest, most awful person I’ve ever met. (She reeked like onions.) I think she’s a drug dealer, because a few times people showed up at the door and she’d get up and go tell them to come back when she didn’t have company. Well, certainly, not THAT politely. One of the times that the woman was shooing people away, I asked Gil if she thought it was okay, her being on parole to be in the place. Gil shrugged her shoulders and said “I don’t see any fucking cops.” Mom hissed at me me to shut-up.

Mom is like that when she’s been drinking. You remember.

This woman was a total pig, and the trailer was a sty. She made Mom look like a high society dame. I mean, really! That’s not just me being catty. The woman had this uncombed hair which was in big knots and tangles. She must have had about a dozen hair ornaments, clips and things tangled in the mess, and I wouldn’t over-rule the notion of a whole metropolis of head lice. Gave a new meaning to “dirty blonde”. She had no bra and her breast, quite literally, kept falling out of her leotard. She was wearing a dancer’s leotard, in white, so you could clearly see every fold of skin and her nipples. Even moles! Gross! Most of the time she was showin off a ful, saggy mellon-sized breast sporting a tattoo of a skull grinning.

I swear it was looking right at me.

On her leg she had the tattoo of a dragon winding up her hairy leg. She was wearing these jockey shorts that were really loose, so the whole night I could see her pubes. Good thing I just had soup and salad for dinner, you know?!

I think her name was Mercedes, but her accent was so heavy, and she slurred so much that I couldn’t understand her. She was also missing a lot of her teeth. She used the word FUCK almost as much as Gil did. Of course, Mom fell into the limited lingo, and she was “fuck, fuck, fucking” with the rest of them. At one point it really sounded like I was in a room full of ducks. Mercedes really smelled like a big onion. How many onions must one eat to smell like one? I can’t give you a full impression of this woman, because I think I’m trying to block out big chunks of it. Mercedes gave me a whole new meaning of the term “belly laugh”.  Mack, you have no idea how miserable I was.

They were guzzling beer, in cans. I didn’t want to drink anything. I didn’t want a glass of anything. I didn’t want a can of anything. All I could think about was WHAT was possibly crawling in the kitchen counters of this filthy mess. It smelled so bad in there. Like they’d been saving their garbage. It was vile. I just sat there while they hooted and hollered and quacked out “fuck”. After a while, like they weren’t drunk enough, the woman brought out this huge bottle of Jack Daniel’s. When I say big, I mean, like a gallon or something with a handle on it! I’ve never seen a bottle that big. They started passing the Jack bottle back and forth, taking big gulps.

Remember when we went to the Zoo? We went into the monkey house and it was feeding time and all the monkey were screaming and chattering at the same time. It was really loud. I freaked out and ran out crying, and you couldn’t understand why and neither could I. They got so loud and it sounded just like the monkey house.

Then this tall, lanky white guy walked in. He was really skinny, no butt at all. His jeans were just hanging on his hips, with no visible means of support. Maybe they were defying gravity because they were so filthy the dirt was holding them up. I don’t know. I can only speculate. He had those sad evil eyes. Reminded me of a shark’s. Creepy. He pretty much ignored Gil and Mom, but gave me a long, long up-and-down look. Then, he grinned , to show his gold front teeth. I felt like I was chum! He started to say something to me but that woman, Mercedes interrupted by yelling out “get over here and fuck me, babycakes”. I’m not sure if she was serious but from his reaction, I think so. I think she wanted him to boink her in front of us. The thing was, Mom and Gil both said, “yeah!” The guy, thankfully, said “you’re too drunk” and went to the back room. Although, on his way out…..he did give me a wink and a smile. I don’t know if that means that if she wasn’t that drunk he would have, but I wonder.

It was late. Easily 3 or 4 in the morning. I was so tired, but Mom and Gil just ignored me when I told them that I was tired and maybe it was time to go.

Mercedes was visibly upset at the rebuff. She grumbled about how the fucker probably couldn’t get it up anyway, and so she staggered up and to the door and called in this mangey shepherd mix mutt. And, get this, the dog came in cowering and rolled on it’s back showing it’s belly. Mercedes got down on her hands and knees and proceeded to give the dog a blow-job. I’m serious…the dog seemed to know the routine because he didn’t move a bit, and his eyes rolled back into his head like he was passed out from pleasure. His tongue hung out limply from his open mouth. Mom and Gil thought this was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. They clapped their hands and jumped up and down and squeeled with delight. “Fucking way to go, girl.” shouted Gil. Then, Mercedes spit onto the carpet (I use the term “carpet” loosely it was so matted down with filth that it looked more like cardboard. She looked up, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

I almost puked. I thought the worst was over. I was wrong. It was surreal. Like one that Tarantino movie. You think “it can’t get any worse than this” — then it does. What was it? Reservoir Dogs? Everyone I know loved it. I hated it. I think I now know why.

So this woman proceeded to drop her drawers, to expose more tattoos. It was a Mad Magazine guy with a huge dick on one of her ample cheeks, and a really slutty angel with her legs spread wide on the other. Sort of his and her butt cheeks, I guess. She was on the floor on her hands and knees and called the dog over. He was up and bouncing around the room like an excited puppy. He ran right over and started humping her, and yes, you could actually see that he was getting some penetration.

I left. That was it, I couldn’t take any more. I went to the car. I don’t think that anyone noticed. Mom and Gil were howling and hooting and carrying on. I could hear them when I sat in the car. It sounded like a pack of wolves killing something. It was just sick. I waited for about half and hour and then I left. And, before I left I could hear that skinny guy’s voice. I think he’d decided that the dog was getting all the attention. I think I heard him ask where I was before I left. Figures the only person to notice me or miss me was the creepy guy.

I left my Mother and my sister in that woman’s trailer. I feel so guilty. I mean, all night I had trouble sleeping because all I could think about or dream about was that scene. It was awful. I left them in that filthy hole. I was so guilty about it. But, Mom hasn’t called, so she’s either really mad at me, or she doesn’t even remember I was there. Yeah, so life is about normal as it relates to my Mom and sister.

There is some good news. I have an interview for an assistant window designer. A friend of mine put in a good word for me and even though I’ve applied to this place about a dozen times, I got an interview from a friend-of-a-friend. It’s the Oh Solo Mio shop, nothing too impressive, but it could be a start. I guess it really is how stuff works. Maybe I’ll finally get to use my fine arts degree, huh? That would be so cool. I’m tired of working in bars.

Mack, can we be friends? I used to love the fact that I could depend on you. I miss that. You were always my anchor in the world.

Love, Aimee

 

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