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Gotta go-cart, faulty biplane, pancakes
November 22, 2009

 

There always seems to be a dilapidated living quarters that I have to take a shit in, and the toilet is always so gross, and frankly it's not easy to "hover" and take a shit. so i remember sitting down on this multicolored toilet seat (layers of paint scraped off at different spots) and the bottom of my thighs hitting the water in the toilet because it was nearly overflowing. This excretory urge came at an inopportune time. I had nearly just started my shift at a breakfast joint somewhere in San Francisco. One of the cooks had either gone missing or fell sick, and i was found to be the nearest person who had a favor to return, thus i was suddenly the new replacement responsible for making pancakes for an order that was already up. the first pancake came out nicely, but the second not so much. while cooking the second pancake, a girl fainted on the serving floor, and i rushed out to see if she was ok. everyone in their seats watched but no one did anything. So i approached her cautiously, touched her shoulder. I said something, and her eyes flitted. She would be okay. i gotta take a shit.

Before all this, i had been travelling in my one-man lie-down go-cart-like thing. It was the size of a kayak but rounder. I was in the fast lane and unfortunately not travelling nearly as fast as I wanted to be. it may have been arm powered, like a wheel chair. A girl came running out as I neared a stop sign. She was tall, her eyes were spread apart, and she had dark red hair. She advised me not to be in the fast lane, and also told me another piece of important information concerning my one-man lie-down go-cart-like thing. I thanked her for the info. She asked me if I wanted to be a line cook for a day. I was skeptical and asked why. She said one of her workers needed replacement, and that she could pay me 10 dollars for a few hours' work. Didnt seem like enough to make it worthwhile, but I owed her a favor.

Later on at some point the departure was imminent. I had been out with the Bains-Rice girl, who later turned into Sandi Esquivel, and while we had made tentative plans to drive somewhere, I spotted Karla Serrano on the other side of the room at the restaurant. I went over and we talked in spanish, had a good conversation. But nothing binding. I kissed her once on her right cheek, crossed the room, waved and said goodbye to Sandi, and then exited. The Bains-Rice girl asked me If i wanted to go for a ride, but as we were driving - now it was a small white van - I thought maybe better not to drive all the way to NYC. I recanted and said I had promised to cook for my brother when i got home. (when i arrived back at 22 parker; they were already cooked and steeped in vinegar for some reason)

There was a plane, a biplane. I'm not sure who was flying it, maybe John Graziano? I was supposed to be in that plane, or at very least my cooking pancakes had something to do with the bottom wing being out of place. apparently he had not noticed before taking off, and i just noticed it now, as it flew overhead. it was like one of the hinges came undone and the wing swiveled outward. Somehow it was okay temporarily because the wings were still parallel with each other. But it was uncertain how long the plane would hold up like that, and while I tried to contact the pilot via cellphone, I dont think i managed to find his number.

I wish i knew more about the yellow lie-down go-cart thing.

 

Scott and I were at the field. It was the field from my junior high school, but it was high school. the grass was greener than i'd ever seen it. There was a delivery truck on the side, and a guy gave me an entire platter of subs. a student might have enough money for just one of these on any given school day. but i was a teacher now. I could have entire platters of sandwhiches for free. I was overjoyed. I took the platter and thanked him and off we went.

Scott and I were walking through the highschool parking lot. it was nighttime now. I was still on my "omg i'm going to be a teacher" kick. There was a black girl walking in the same direction across the parking lot. just as in reality, I had a sensitivity towards black people. There were two of us, me and scott, and I didnt want the girl to feel threatened or anything, especially after i leaned down to stuff my heels into the back of my shoes. Scott and I were talking jovially the upcoming semester and walking at a faster pace than the black girl. I felt confident that our demeanor gave her no reason to fear us.

I looked around main street for a donut shop that might be open, but Scott had to catch a train anyway, so we said goodbye and i was alone for a brief second, the excitement beginning to wear off, like the steam rising from your skin after a hot shower, leaving your vulnerable body to its devices in cold air.