"I dream of a hard and brutal mysticism in which the naked self merges with the nonhuman world and somehow survives...Paradox and bedrock."-Edward Abbey

22 March 2011

Basement Backflash

It was years ago, and we were all going dancing. Well, the others were. I was going to monkey watch in a den of vampires and contemplate whiskey. That particular night, we converged upon the Place of Greetings and Goodbyes. The juke joint was supposed to be a fall-back as the roof of another haunt was repaired, but that never came to pass.

In the years since, I have told my friends how much I despised that place. Sure, there was delicious irony of drinking and dancing in the basement of an old cathedral, but, eventually, the novelty does wear off. Other details are required to keep one's attention. None of those other details really impressed me to rocket science. I went because of my friends. Because of the jewel-eyed girl so many lifetimes ago. Because it meant something to all of them. There were other places I dug more and everyone knew it, but I am polite to fault, despite being a misanthropic cuntrag.

There was an hour at the Place of Greetings and Goodbyes of which one did not need to bribe the pierced girl at the door with a five in paper cover. That's when most of us showed up. It was a combination of youthful poverty and, well, five in paper? That's drinking money. We all had our priorities.

It was a spring night and Jibril and I walked in together. He was telling me about the uncounted attempt to make The Watchmen film and seemed a little excited about the prospect. I had a little extra paper and had offered to buy him a libation.

Since it was before cover, there weren't a lot of monkeys to watch, although there were a few victims for me. We settled into our usual corner booth and I drew up into a a crouch upon one of the pews, as was my custom. The music was a bit more esoteric that early on, and only a few vampires danced. It was entertaining enough as a sipped my whiskey.

Then the Executive Slacks tune came on. Jibril all but flew out onto the floor, lit up a fag, and started dancing. Out of the either, the gypsy appeared to dance with him. Both the bruja and Madam Lung came walking in. I felt a smile crossing my face. My friends were appearing, the evening was getting ready to begin. Memory serves it was a fun night, despite how I felt about the Place of Greetings and Goodbyes.


Jibril's has been gone four years and two days now. I still do not know how to approach the subject. Although, that Executive Slacks tune came to mind. Not for its context, but for its title. Something I find fitting. Twisted in its symmetry. 

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