It was Feb 1997 or close to it during the time this CM adventure, one of millions of off the wall stories, as only a meth head can have.
Feb 1997 was one of the many ups, an example of fun, good times on meth. I had money coming in from unemployment because I had just been unofficially canned from my nursing day job when word got out like wildfire around the hospital grapevine. "TJ's got a night job as a stripper!"
I didn't give a fuck. Hell I thought it was fun while it lasted being all respectable during the day. But then the wild woman in me came out. I loved my dancing job. Once I got let go, Crystal and I merely proceeded to go about the fun business of my new found freedom and making life a blast.
Albert my new connect that Gloria, an ex coworker from the hospital hooked me up with, had lots and lots of glass. I had lots and lots of money to spend on glass. Both of us were very happy. One night while enjoying the favors of Albert's glass, I got on the phone and listened to these various telephone ads by off the wall people.
One of them had caught my attention. This dude's ad that said he was a 6'3" musician of Italian/German descent. When I went to find out who this guy was, this joker clowning around said "Ricci." At which point I serenaded him a bit with the song "Ricky don't lose that number." We went back and forth leaving messages and eventually I spoke to him live.
He said he was tired of only meeting ugly fat chicks on this dating service. Amused, I told him I wasn't fat or ugly, but was a nurse/dancer. "Why don't we check into a motel?," said Ricci matter of factly. Tweeking at the time, I found that amuzing and asked, “Are you serious?” around a mouthful of laughter. Then he said, "Uh I like to party. Are you into partying?" Oh this was good. Yes I liked crystal meth very much. He said good he'd have some.
I drove down the street to a motel 6 on the corner. We agreed to go half and half on the room. Ricci knocked on the window. I looked outside and he said,"Your're actually pretty!," Imitating Elvis I said, "Thankyou very much." Ricci then proceeded to hook up his drums, keyboards, and guitars. After which time he proceeded to get out his glass and offered plenty of his stash.
I had been a snorter in those days. He offered his glass dick and I told him the straw gig was my thing. He started acting all happy, taking off his clothes and getting into the exhibitionist scene. He liked to flash outside the window and drive around naked in his truck wearing only his guitar.
At 10:00am the next morning, he gave me a check for his half of the room. I half expected him to rip me off, but the check was good. He took a couple pics of me from posing as an amateur model and gave me a nice little extra care package of glass. The shit was good!
Over the next few months, we'd leave voice mails for each other. I wanted him to get me some of his shit in the worst way. Damned musician dude was impossible to pin down. Six or seven months had gone by. By now, I was living in the spare bedroom of a friend of mine who was a Dr. I had been tweeking high and hard one night when Ricci should call me late at night.
"Hey why don't you come on down to the Motel 6 in Orange?" It had been in a different city than last time, but close to home. I hauled some photos, poetry, clothes in the car and told him I'd be there in 30 minutes. I arrived 2 hours later tweeker standard time. Getting out of the car and walking up the stairs to the 2nd story to the room number he gave me, I was diggin life.
Being high on meth, artistic, hooking up with another like minded individual was fun. Walking in the door he threw an orange dildo towards me. "They really ought to do something about the cockroaches in this place," I said. That sent him into a maniacal fit of laughter for 5 minutes. Once again, he and I wrote and played songs and invented music all night after doing lots and lots of glass. He'd saved the pics I'd given him and had them all in a portfolio.
"I forgot how pretty your tits were," he said. They were quite small but he loved how they were perfect for pouring water, or any sort of drink up and off the firm slope and right into someone's mouth a few inches away for tips. I'd been wearing this off white reavealing outfit that you could pretty much see through to the white thong panties and lacy garter/hose in. When morning came around, Ricci hid his face, opened the door or curtains while opening his trench coat to reveal a big, fake, orange dildo to lots and lots of women.
While he did this I'd look out for him and tell him when to hide. A couple chicks took out their cell phones as if to call security. When confronted by the security people, for some reason I decided to play the part of the indignant, southern, respectable wife of a preacher whom I'd called "Reverand Rick." "I have no idea what on earth your're talking about," I said in a southern drawl. "My husband Reverand Rick has been sleeping here the entire time taking a nap. I'll have you know he certainly is NOT in the habit of encouraging impure thoughts of any sort. He's only interested in leading sinners to JAYSUS praise the lord." I said this in all seriousness dressed in that flimsy outfit.
I had convinced the staff and they left us alone after that. Ricci and I did alot more speed and this time I did the deed. Covering my face with the curtains, I saw these truckers drive and circle around Denny's/Motel 6. Looking through Ricci's binoculars, I was laughing so hard at the look on these trucker's faces once they realized I was flashing my headlights at them. I laughed even harder when these same trucks kept driving around and around in circles peering at me. Ricci had to go somewhere and he left me to wait outside in that out of place outfit Sunday morning early. This one Mexican dude was coming on to me as I sat in my car. He asked if I wanted to fuck him and I told him that Reverand Rick and I were having a wedding in the motel parking lot as soon as he got back.
Rick was jealous and he carried a 12 gauge shot gun with him at all times. I told the Mexican dude Rick would blow the door down if he thouhght for a second I was in a room with another man. "But the worst thing is the last time he caught me he cut me off cold turkey for 2 whole hours. He wouldn't give me any dick. That had been the worst 2 hours of my entire life,” I explained. I always liked to fuck with people's minds when they started fucking with me. Walking over to the public pay phone, a couple of dudes were blatantly staring at me. One of the dudes was pretending to make a phone call, but was really trying to pick me up.
Once again in my southern accent I said, "You gentlemen are having impure thoughts. I knew it. Well I tell you what. If you will just accept JAYSUS and come on down to Reverand Rick's tent meeting I promise y'all you'll never have to be bothered with these impure thoughts again. Halleyluyah praise God." Waiting for someone to tell me I was full of shit, no one said a word other than this one man referrring to how I was dressed. "I tell you this. Reverand Rick and I will do whatever it takes to bring lost souls to Gawd and to the loving heart of Christ. If in so doing, we must don these despicable outfits, than praise Jaysus it will be done!"
Ricci drove up at this time wearing his pants down around his ankles and his guitar around his birthday suit. "Oh praise Gawd Reverand Rick has picked up more flashers and brought them home to Christ." Back in the motel room we did more speed. At 12:00pm we checked out. I asked him to drive close behind me on the freeway because I didn't want the cops to see I had expired tags by 8 months. On the way home this stupid children's song kept going in my head. Chuck Chuck bo buck bannana fanna fo fuck fa fi fy fo duck Chuck. Writing materials in hand, I promptly pulled into this mall parking lot right in front of where I was living.
For 8 hours I sat in the parking lot writing poetry and it ended up being a 14 page ditty about a woman and a guy named Chuck that rescured her from this orderly from an insane assylum she would have had to marry. Eventually I had to stop because there was no more day light. It was at this time that this these 2 young dudes were walking to their car parked next to me. "That chick has been sitting in her car for 8 hours doing nothing, wearing lingerie," he said in a loud voice. As I looked up, he said he didn't mean to be rude, but he was blown away. "Just so you know this is actually a whole dress not just lingerie," I said getting out of the car to demonstrate. "And I wasn't doing nothing, I've been hard at work writting poetry,"I said.
"Writing what?" the guy asked in disbeif. At which point I proceeded to recite one of my favorites "The Desert Song." He said he really liked it. "But surely you've got to know that dress is sheer! That is not standard parking lot attire!," he exclaimed. Standard Parking Lot Attire. Now THAT I was definately going to use. Walking into the record store after those 2 guys drove away speechless, I proceeded to act like it was the most natural thing in the world to strut along in that garb with a total straight face. Once I got home, I told my friend Robert about my adventures wearing that outfit. I told him the bit about the preacher's wife and how not one person called me on my bullshit to challenge the fact that I was indeed a preacher's wife, a sheep dressed in wolf's clothing in order to attract any misguided wayward flocks to Reverand Rick and his tent meetings.
Robert laughed his fucking ass off. "TJ you're a trip!" and indeed I was tripping. Over the next few weeks, odd phrases that I thought would make great title peices to poems flew into my head and I wrote them down. Smoke in the cockpit. Eccentric theives. Rocket fuel pace. Dave's garage. The exhibitionist and the introvert, meaning Ricci and I. One night while speeding, I wrote them in the order I wanted them and entitled the peice "Standard Parking Lot Attire." That was classic. Over the months Ricci moved from motel to motel doing gig to gig and sucking on that glass dick. As long as there was plenty of speed, then it was quite easy to see the funny side of things.
End of part 1
The Exhibitionist And The Introvert
It was during this point in our lives, that both Ricci and I had been like nomads moving from place to place, job to job, gig to gig never really knowing from one day to the next if or how much money was going to come in from the odd jobs that we did. Both of us wanted passionately to make a living doing what we loved. Ricci his music, and dancing/writing for myself. And tweeking of course. During the time I knew him, I’d gone from living at my Mom’s house until she kicked me out. Then I rented a room for a month but got kicked out for not being able to pay the rent for the next month. Then to Robert’s spare bedroom to which I had paid rent for a while, but blew it cause I lost my job due to the fact I’d been so happy tweeking, I just blew off work. No phone call, no nothing.
For about a week on and off, I lived with this other chick I’d met through an escort service. She was a manic depressive hooker that refused to take her lithium. So from minute to minute one never knew what sort of mood she’d be in. Of course she was a trip. She had a mouth like white trash and her name was Tonya. She had 2 twin boys aged 11 as well as a 5 year old at the time. Her house was so disgustingly dirty, the health department and child protective service’s intervened. Still any home was preferrable to the street or living in my car. I lasted 3 nights then she flew into a manic temper tantrum 5 minutes after she had been all happy and huggy. After she threw me out on my ass with no warning, I ended up living in Dave’s garage for 2 months. It was shortly after this very bleak period that I saw Ricci again.
I had gotten a little money from the county as well as a temporary menial labor job so I could buy food and gas. Right after this episode, I got hired as a live in companion/caregiver for these 2 old ladies. The day I was to move in their house, I had been sporting a long Egyptian type skirt and scarf. Walking down the alley on the way to my car, this Mexican dude asks me something in spanish. Since I know the language pretty well and because I was tweeking we ended up conversing for 7 hours in spanish. He agreed to help me move some of my stuff over to the old ladies place that hired me. I arrived 9 hours late tweeker standard time which was fuck up number one. Fuck up number two was the fact that these old ladies had no life and were boring, whining, complaining bitches beyond belief. Even though I was grateful to be able to shower and have a roof over my head, I made no qualms about sticking up for myself. If one of them got nasty and sarcastic with me, I raised my voice to their level and told them not to yell at me. Nothing was ever done right and both old ladies were determined to be boring, selfish, sarcastic women that expected whoever took care of them to have no life outside of them.
My job was to tend to the non ambulatory lady’s beck and call all night long. She would wake me up 4 or 5 times in the night to be changed, for for a pillow, or to yell, whatever. Of course after the night was over, during the day I was supposed to wait on them hand and foot as well leaving very little time to sleep. After being kept up all night one night, the daughter was displeased to find me asleep at 2:00pm, but I explained why. Still however, that was a no go for TJ. It took all of 4 days to get canned from that place. The daughter had said that both ladies complained they were afraid of me, but she didn’t know why. She stuck $100 in an envelop and that was all the money I had to my name. I spoke to Tony (my birth father) on the phone and my kid brother Eddie for a couple hours. Eddie offered to let me come stay with him up in Washington state until I found work. Pleased, but not wanting to veer far from familiar surroundings, I declined. The Mexican stranger dude whose name was Guillermo, helped me move my stuff from the old ladies back to Dave’s to store it. I was now technically homeless again. It was March 1997 and I was back to no job, and only $100 to my name. However, so long as I had some speed to get me through the shitty times, then it would be bareable and I’d be motivated to go about the task of getting something, any odd job that would pay any kind of money.
I phoned Ricci who was now staying at this low down dive pit called The Seville where all the welfare white trash lived as well as street blacks, dealers, and Mexicans, and dudes on parole. And cops. Lots and lots of cops. I had referred to that pit hole as “The Cockroach Inn” even though I never actually saw any cockroaches, it fit. “Riccci dude man I want to score some glass. $60 worth.” “Sure dute,” he said. Let me get my dealer on 3 way calling.” The dealer was a Mexican dude named Auggie. Ricci told him $60 for me and $60 for himself but he wanted to know if the dude would front him his share. Although he didn’t want to, Ricci being Mr. Outgoing easily talked him into it. I had to take a drive to down town Buena Park in a run down barrio neighborhood at 11:00pm at night. The cops were always lurking about and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I had to circle the cross streets 3 times and go to a pay phone asking where the hell this dude was. Finally at 12:00pm, this Mexican dude appeared and got in the car. I drove slowly to another street and parked the car behind another car. It was then that Auggie produced a bag with a very large white rock in it and held it up to the rearview mirror for God and everyone to see. “Put that down Jesus!,” I exclaimed frantically. Holy shit what a dumb ass. This dude wouldn’t last long as a dealer. However, my heart dropped to my feet and I broke out into an uneasy, fearful sweat and pounding of my heart because a split second after Auggie waved around the big white rock, I saw with dread a cop car had pulled behind me and I thought I was on my way to the Gray Bar when those flashing lights flickered on and off sending dread through all dope buyers everywhere.
Quickly hiding the rock, I proceeded to get my oil and funnel from the back seat. “I picked you up hitch hiking and am dropping you off here,” I said to Auggie. “I don’t know you, and if he asks, I pulled over cause the oil light came on and now I’m going to put oil in,” I said. For whatever reason, that gig washed with the cop and since Auggie was Mexican looked right in place trying to play the helpful homeboy with the car. Thanking God when the cop left, Auggie said he thought we were being taken to jail. “All I have is this $100. I have to go to the store to break it,,” I said. “No I don’t have time. Just give me the $100 and you can have the whole 8 ball,” he said. “Shit I don’t have no money to be fronting Ricci’s ass!,” I exclaimed. Fuck no. “Then as far as he’s concerned, you picked up your share and that’s it,” he said. Well guess that meant I’d be forking over all the money to my name to dope. Sighing to myself, I said fuck it. At least with a whole 8 ball, I could use it for barter with Dave. I’d let him have a little bit for each night he let me stay in the spare room of his house. In the meantime, I decided once and for all I was going to Ricci’s room at The Cockroach Inn locked gate or no locked gate.
Once I arrived, I had dressed as Ricci said in SPLA. Standard Parking Lot Attire. Meaning a generic outfit that didn’t draw attention to myself. Arriving at the place Ricci lived, it helped being on speed. Otherwise, I would not have attempted and executed the task of jumping/climbing the fence with sharp barbs on the top. After I carefully climbed over the other side and found the correct stairway leading to Ricci’s room, a black security guard looked at me and laughed. Then he winked. Apparently he was amuzed at my determination and efforts to get past the 11:00pm guest curfew hour. Knocking on Ricci’s door, he took his time answering. “Open the fucking door dude come on,” I said. He was totally surprised and freaked out to see me. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?,” he kept asking. “What the fuck difference does that make? I hopped the fuckin fence now do you want your dope or not?,” I demanded. “Oh no you climbed the fucking fence? That’s a bust you can’t do that,” said Ricci. What the fuck was this guy’s trip? “I can and I did now will you chill the fuck out?,” I said. There was another chick inside with Ricci named Selena. A chick whose name years later I would hear him cuss out to no end. Ricci unfortunately had kept the wrong sort of company often times. Those that were scummy enough to steal and thought nothing of it. At the time while I had been tweeking, the chick seemed nice enough.
Ricci put out a couple lines for me. He always ragged at me for taking the world’s longest amount of time to do a single line. While I loved the effect, they didn’t particularly feel or taste good going up my nose and down my throat. Ricci had tried to talk me into fronting him the dope for the money, but I said no. “Dude I don’t have one thin dime to my fucking name. Come on dude fork up some cash, I need some cash,” I said. “Shit dute this is all the money I have,” said Ricci giving me $7 for food and gas. Since I said the dope was in the car and not on me, just to forget about it until another time. Then he and Selena left his room to my disappointment. They were going to another connect’s house. Letting myself out the gate, I walked to 7-11 and bought a coke and a bag of chips. Ie had hopped I’d be able to stay up at Ricci’s all night. It was 3:00am and I had no where to go. Sighing to myself, there wasn’t anything I could do other than get in my car and crash. Putting the seat down and retrieving a pillow, I saw Ricci’s truck drive in through the gate sometime before dawn. Perhaps the next day, I could go to my Mom’s and sneak in the bathroom and take a shower, which I did. That night, Mom kicked me out saying she had Doc some fuck bud there and out I had to go. Whatever. It was only ½ acre house, but laughing I told myself, “Come on let’s go see if Dave will let you crash in the back room of his place. If not, then I’ll crash in my car. That night Dave agreed to let me crash on the floor in the spare room.
Anything was better than my car or his garage. At least I had a nice sizeable chunck of dope, which was in my case more valuable than cash for bartering. I was excited because I knew she had a nice chuck of cash coming to her from her income tax return. I had it all worked out how I’d spend the $800. I’d use it to get a studio or something. Of course once I had it, the first thing I wanted to do was buy some speed and stay at a motel room. This time I would treat. I told Ricci I’d get an 8 ball for us to party and get happy. Once I got my money, I paid off a couple people I owed money to and was glad I did. Mother however was not happy with the fact I paid these people off instead of getting a place. No studio would let me rent without a “real” job so why not pay them back? I reasoned. This time around April 1997 me and Ricci partied at the Fullerton Moter Lodge. It was right down the street from this character that I knew for a brief time. I was able to afford rent of $250 that both Dave and this guy Paul down the street charged when they did rent rooms. Dave would not rent the spare room in his house. Paul reniged on his offer saying there was no way he could rent a room to me unless I agreed to fuck him. Then he said,” At least give me a free show.” What a fucking jerk. That night, I was only 5 houses walk from the motel. Ricci and I did a bunch of speed. Then I proceeded to walk straight up to Paul’s bedroom window at 3:00am and knock. He was quite pissed off and he told me so. “Just open the blindes Paul and look out the window for a minute,” I said. I had been completely naked except for a huge red wraparound Egyption shawl covering me up.
The second Paul did as I asked and peeked out the blindes, I opened my shawl and flashed him full on nude. “Here’s your free show motherfucker! Have a lovely evening!,” and with that I ran as quick as I could into the night back where I came from. Laughing hysterically, my face was full on wet with tears from laughing so hard. Gripping the key in my hand, and bracing myself to make a quick sprint toward’s the direction of the motel room I addressed these 2 young Mexican dudes all the way at the far end of the alley. “Excuse me guys but are there any cops down there?,” I asked. “No,” they said. “Have a lovely fucking evening,!” I exclaimed laughing in this maniacal laughter once again. Opening my red cape and once again giving them the full tour, I ran off and quickly dashed up the stairs and into the motel room. “WAAAAITT!” HEY WAAIIITT!,” they could be heard begging as they ran in my direction to try to find out where I disappeared to. Ricci and I could hear the 2 of them saying “Where did she go? Where did she go?” At which point I fell to the floor laughing so hard my face was wet, and my abdomen muscles were protesting. “Your’re going to get us busted,” said Ricci calmly. “Since when did you get all paranoid about that? Fuck you Ricci you need to be sucking on some of that glass dick!” I retorted. Snorting and sucking all night long is what we did. And for the first 4 years we knew each other, that is what we both did up until 4 years ago and I switched to slamming. Both of us for the most part, were nomads and content so long as we could create, had a little cash, and speed. What more did one need?
End of part 2
Feb 1997 was one of the many ups, an example of fun, good times on meth. I had money coming in from unemployment because I had just been unofficially canned from my nursing day job when word got out like wildfire around the hospital grapevine. "TJ's got a night job as a stripper!"
I didn't give a fuck. Hell I thought it was fun while it lasted being all respectable during the day. But then the wild woman in me came out. I loved my dancing job. Once I got let go, Crystal and I merely proceeded to go about the fun business of my new found freedom and making life a blast.
Albert my new connect that Gloria, an ex coworker from the hospital hooked me up with, had lots and lots of glass. I had lots and lots of money to spend on glass. Both of us were very happy. One night while enjoying the favors of Albert's glass, I got on the phone and listened to these various telephone ads by off the wall people.
One of them had caught my attention. This dude's ad that said he was a 6'3" musician of Italian/German descent. When I went to find out who this guy was, this joker clowning around said "Ricci." At which point I serenaded him a bit with the song "Ricky don't lose that number." We went back and forth leaving messages and eventually I spoke to him live.
He said he was tired of only meeting ugly fat chicks on this dating service. Amused, I told him I wasn't fat or ugly, but was a nurse/dancer. "Why don't we check into a motel?," said Ricci matter of factly. Tweeking at the time, I found that amuzing and asked, “Are you serious?” around a mouthful of laughter. Then he said, "Uh I like to party. Are you into partying?" Oh this was good. Yes I liked crystal meth very much. He said good he'd have some.
I drove down the street to a motel 6 on the corner. We agreed to go half and half on the room. Ricci knocked on the window. I looked outside and he said,"Your're actually pretty!," Imitating Elvis I said, "Thankyou very much." Ricci then proceeded to hook up his drums, keyboards, and guitars. After which time he proceeded to get out his glass and offered plenty of his stash.
I had been a snorter in those days. He offered his glass dick and I told him the straw gig was my thing. He started acting all happy, taking off his clothes and getting into the exhibitionist scene. He liked to flash outside the window and drive around naked in his truck wearing only his guitar.
At 10:00am the next morning, he gave me a check for his half of the room. I half expected him to rip me off, but the check was good. He took a couple pics of me from posing as an amateur model and gave me a nice little extra care package of glass. The shit was good!
Over the next few months, we'd leave voice mails for each other. I wanted him to get me some of his shit in the worst way. Damned musician dude was impossible to pin down. Six or seven months had gone by. By now, I was living in the spare bedroom of a friend of mine who was a Dr. I had been tweeking high and hard one night when Ricci should call me late at night.
"Hey why don't you come on down to the Motel 6 in Orange?" It had been in a different city than last time, but close to home. I hauled some photos, poetry, clothes in the car and told him I'd be there in 30 minutes. I arrived 2 hours later tweeker standard time. Getting out of the car and walking up the stairs to the 2nd story to the room number he gave me, I was diggin life.
Being high on meth, artistic, hooking up with another like minded individual was fun. Walking in the door he threw an orange dildo towards me. "They really ought to do something about the cockroaches in this place," I said. That sent him into a maniacal fit of laughter for 5 minutes. Once again, he and I wrote and played songs and invented music all night after doing lots and lots of glass. He'd saved the pics I'd given him and had them all in a portfolio.
"I forgot how pretty your tits were," he said. They were quite small but he loved how they were perfect for pouring water, or any sort of drink up and off the firm slope and right into someone's mouth a few inches away for tips. I'd been wearing this off white reavealing outfit that you could pretty much see through to the white thong panties and lacy garter/hose in. When morning came around, Ricci hid his face, opened the door or curtains while opening his trench coat to reveal a big, fake, orange dildo to lots and lots of women.
While he did this I'd look out for him and tell him when to hide. A couple chicks took out their cell phones as if to call security. When confronted by the security people, for some reason I decided to play the part of the indignant, southern, respectable wife of a preacher whom I'd called "Reverand Rick." "I have no idea what on earth your're talking about," I said in a southern drawl. "My husband Reverand Rick has been sleeping here the entire time taking a nap. I'll have you know he certainly is NOT in the habit of encouraging impure thoughts of any sort. He's only interested in leading sinners to JAYSUS praise the lord." I said this in all seriousness dressed in that flimsy outfit.
I had convinced the staff and they left us alone after that. Ricci and I did alot more speed and this time I did the deed. Covering my face with the curtains, I saw these truckers drive and circle around Denny's/Motel 6. Looking through Ricci's binoculars, I was laughing so hard at the look on these trucker's faces once they realized I was flashing my headlights at them. I laughed even harder when these same trucks kept driving around and around in circles peering at me. Ricci had to go somewhere and he left me to wait outside in that out of place outfit Sunday morning early. This one Mexican dude was coming on to me as I sat in my car. He asked if I wanted to fuck him and I told him that Reverand Rick and I were having a wedding in the motel parking lot as soon as he got back.
Rick was jealous and he carried a 12 gauge shot gun with him at all times. I told the Mexican dude Rick would blow the door down if he thouhght for a second I was in a room with another man. "But the worst thing is the last time he caught me he cut me off cold turkey for 2 whole hours. He wouldn't give me any dick. That had been the worst 2 hours of my entire life,” I explained. I always liked to fuck with people's minds when they started fucking with me. Walking over to the public pay phone, a couple of dudes were blatantly staring at me. One of the dudes was pretending to make a phone call, but was really trying to pick me up.
Once again in my southern accent I said, "You gentlemen are having impure thoughts. I knew it. Well I tell you what. If you will just accept JAYSUS and come on down to Reverand Rick's tent meeting I promise y'all you'll never have to be bothered with these impure thoughts again. Halleyluyah praise God." Waiting for someone to tell me I was full of shit, no one said a word other than this one man referrring to how I was dressed. "I tell you this. Reverand Rick and I will do whatever it takes to bring lost souls to Gawd and to the loving heart of Christ. If in so doing, we must don these despicable outfits, than praise Jaysus it will be done!"
Ricci drove up at this time wearing his pants down around his ankles and his guitar around his birthday suit. "Oh praise Gawd Reverand Rick has picked up more flashers and brought them home to Christ." Back in the motel room we did more speed. At 12:00pm we checked out. I asked him to drive close behind me on the freeway because I didn't want the cops to see I had expired tags by 8 months. On the way home this stupid children's song kept going in my head. Chuck Chuck bo buck bannana fanna fo fuck fa fi fy fo duck Chuck. Writing materials in hand, I promptly pulled into this mall parking lot right in front of where I was living.
For 8 hours I sat in the parking lot writing poetry and it ended up being a 14 page ditty about a woman and a guy named Chuck that rescured her from this orderly from an insane assylum she would have had to marry. Eventually I had to stop because there was no more day light. It was at this time that this these 2 young dudes were walking to their car parked next to me. "That chick has been sitting in her car for 8 hours doing nothing, wearing lingerie," he said in a loud voice. As I looked up, he said he didn't mean to be rude, but he was blown away. "Just so you know this is actually a whole dress not just lingerie," I said getting out of the car to demonstrate. "And I wasn't doing nothing, I've been hard at work writting poetry,"I said.
"Writing what?" the guy asked in disbeif. At which point I proceeded to recite one of my favorites "The Desert Song." He said he really liked it. "But surely you've got to know that dress is sheer! That is not standard parking lot attire!," he exclaimed. Standard Parking Lot Attire. Now THAT I was definately going to use. Walking into the record store after those 2 guys drove away speechless, I proceeded to act like it was the most natural thing in the world to strut along in that garb with a total straight face. Once I got home, I told my friend Robert about my adventures wearing that outfit. I told him the bit about the preacher's wife and how not one person called me on my bullshit to challenge the fact that I was indeed a preacher's wife, a sheep dressed in wolf's clothing in order to attract any misguided wayward flocks to Reverand Rick and his tent meetings.
Robert laughed his fucking ass off. "TJ you're a trip!" and indeed I was tripping. Over the next few weeks, odd phrases that I thought would make great title peices to poems flew into my head and I wrote them down. Smoke in the cockpit. Eccentric theives. Rocket fuel pace. Dave's garage. The exhibitionist and the introvert, meaning Ricci and I. One night while speeding, I wrote them in the order I wanted them and entitled the peice "Standard Parking Lot Attire." That was classic. Over the months Ricci moved from motel to motel doing gig to gig and sucking on that glass dick. As long as there was plenty of speed, then it was quite easy to see the funny side of things.
End of part 1
The Exhibitionist And The Introvert
It was during this point in our lives, that both Ricci and I had been like nomads moving from place to place, job to job, gig to gig never really knowing from one day to the next if or how much money was going to come in from the odd jobs that we did. Both of us wanted passionately to make a living doing what we loved. Ricci his music, and dancing/writing for myself. And tweeking of course. During the time I knew him, I’d gone from living at my Mom’s house until she kicked me out. Then I rented a room for a month but got kicked out for not being able to pay the rent for the next month. Then to Robert’s spare bedroom to which I had paid rent for a while, but blew it cause I lost my job due to the fact I’d been so happy tweeking, I just blew off work. No phone call, no nothing.
For about a week on and off, I lived with this other chick I’d met through an escort service. She was a manic depressive hooker that refused to take her lithium. So from minute to minute one never knew what sort of mood she’d be in. Of course she was a trip. She had a mouth like white trash and her name was Tonya. She had 2 twin boys aged 11 as well as a 5 year old at the time. Her house was so disgustingly dirty, the health department and child protective service’s intervened. Still any home was preferrable to the street or living in my car. I lasted 3 nights then she flew into a manic temper tantrum 5 minutes after she had been all happy and huggy. After she threw me out on my ass with no warning, I ended up living in Dave’s garage for 2 months. It was shortly after this very bleak period that I saw Ricci again.
I had gotten a little money from the county as well as a temporary menial labor job so I could buy food and gas. Right after this episode, I got hired as a live in companion/caregiver for these 2 old ladies. The day I was to move in their house, I had been sporting a long Egyptian type skirt and scarf. Walking down the alley on the way to my car, this Mexican dude asks me something in spanish. Since I know the language pretty well and because I was tweeking we ended up conversing for 7 hours in spanish. He agreed to help me move some of my stuff over to the old ladies place that hired me. I arrived 9 hours late tweeker standard time which was fuck up number one. Fuck up number two was the fact that these old ladies had no life and were boring, whining, complaining bitches beyond belief. Even though I was grateful to be able to shower and have a roof over my head, I made no qualms about sticking up for myself. If one of them got nasty and sarcastic with me, I raised my voice to their level and told them not to yell at me. Nothing was ever done right and both old ladies were determined to be boring, selfish, sarcastic women that expected whoever took care of them to have no life outside of them.
My job was to tend to the non ambulatory lady’s beck and call all night long. She would wake me up 4 or 5 times in the night to be changed, for for a pillow, or to yell, whatever. Of course after the night was over, during the day I was supposed to wait on them hand and foot as well leaving very little time to sleep. After being kept up all night one night, the daughter was displeased to find me asleep at 2:00pm, but I explained why. Still however, that was a no go for TJ. It took all of 4 days to get canned from that place. The daughter had said that both ladies complained they were afraid of me, but she didn’t know why. She stuck $100 in an envelop and that was all the money I had to my name. I spoke to Tony (my birth father) on the phone and my kid brother Eddie for a couple hours. Eddie offered to let me come stay with him up in Washington state until I found work. Pleased, but not wanting to veer far from familiar surroundings, I declined. The Mexican stranger dude whose name was Guillermo, helped me move my stuff from the old ladies back to Dave’s to store it. I was now technically homeless again. It was March 1997 and I was back to no job, and only $100 to my name. However, so long as I had some speed to get me through the shitty times, then it would be bareable and I’d be motivated to go about the task of getting something, any odd job that would pay any kind of money.
I phoned Ricci who was now staying at this low down dive pit called The Seville where all the welfare white trash lived as well as street blacks, dealers, and Mexicans, and dudes on parole. And cops. Lots and lots of cops. I had referred to that pit hole as “The Cockroach Inn” even though I never actually saw any cockroaches, it fit. “Riccci dude man I want to score some glass. $60 worth.” “Sure dute,” he said. Let me get my dealer on 3 way calling.” The dealer was a Mexican dude named Auggie. Ricci told him $60 for me and $60 for himself but he wanted to know if the dude would front him his share. Although he didn’t want to, Ricci being Mr. Outgoing easily talked him into it. I had to take a drive to down town Buena Park in a run down barrio neighborhood at 11:00pm at night. The cops were always lurking about and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I had to circle the cross streets 3 times and go to a pay phone asking where the hell this dude was. Finally at 12:00pm, this Mexican dude appeared and got in the car. I drove slowly to another street and parked the car behind another car. It was then that Auggie produced a bag with a very large white rock in it and held it up to the rearview mirror for God and everyone to see. “Put that down Jesus!,” I exclaimed frantically. Holy shit what a dumb ass. This dude wouldn’t last long as a dealer. However, my heart dropped to my feet and I broke out into an uneasy, fearful sweat and pounding of my heart because a split second after Auggie waved around the big white rock, I saw with dread a cop car had pulled behind me and I thought I was on my way to the Gray Bar when those flashing lights flickered on and off sending dread through all dope buyers everywhere.
Quickly hiding the rock, I proceeded to get my oil and funnel from the back seat. “I picked you up hitch hiking and am dropping you off here,” I said to Auggie. “I don’t know you, and if he asks, I pulled over cause the oil light came on and now I’m going to put oil in,” I said. For whatever reason, that gig washed with the cop and since Auggie was Mexican looked right in place trying to play the helpful homeboy with the car. Thanking God when the cop left, Auggie said he thought we were being taken to jail. “All I have is this $100. I have to go to the store to break it,,” I said. “No I don’t have time. Just give me the $100 and you can have the whole 8 ball,” he said. “Shit I don’t have no money to be fronting Ricci’s ass!,” I exclaimed. Fuck no. “Then as far as he’s concerned, you picked up your share and that’s it,” he said. Well guess that meant I’d be forking over all the money to my name to dope. Sighing to myself, I said fuck it. At least with a whole 8 ball, I could use it for barter with Dave. I’d let him have a little bit for each night he let me stay in the spare room of his house. In the meantime, I decided once and for all I was going to Ricci’s room at The Cockroach Inn locked gate or no locked gate.
Once I arrived, I had dressed as Ricci said in SPLA. Standard Parking Lot Attire. Meaning a generic outfit that didn’t draw attention to myself. Arriving at the place Ricci lived, it helped being on speed. Otherwise, I would not have attempted and executed the task of jumping/climbing the fence with sharp barbs on the top. After I carefully climbed over the other side and found the correct stairway leading to Ricci’s room, a black security guard looked at me and laughed. Then he winked. Apparently he was amuzed at my determination and efforts to get past the 11:00pm guest curfew hour. Knocking on Ricci’s door, he took his time answering. “Open the fucking door dude come on,” I said. He was totally surprised and freaked out to see me. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?,” he kept asking. “What the fuck difference does that make? I hopped the fuckin fence now do you want your dope or not?,” I demanded. “Oh no you climbed the fucking fence? That’s a bust you can’t do that,” said Ricci. What the fuck was this guy’s trip? “I can and I did now will you chill the fuck out?,” I said. There was another chick inside with Ricci named Selena. A chick whose name years later I would hear him cuss out to no end. Ricci unfortunately had kept the wrong sort of company often times. Those that were scummy enough to steal and thought nothing of it. At the time while I had been tweeking, the chick seemed nice enough.
Ricci put out a couple lines for me. He always ragged at me for taking the world’s longest amount of time to do a single line. While I loved the effect, they didn’t particularly feel or taste good going up my nose and down my throat. Ricci had tried to talk me into fronting him the dope for the money, but I said no. “Dude I don’t have one thin dime to my fucking name. Come on dude fork up some cash, I need some cash,” I said. “Shit dute this is all the money I have,” said Ricci giving me $7 for food and gas. Since I said the dope was in the car and not on me, just to forget about it until another time. Then he and Selena left his room to my disappointment. They were going to another connect’s house. Letting myself out the gate, I walked to 7-11 and bought a coke and a bag of chips. Ie had hopped I’d be able to stay up at Ricci’s all night. It was 3:00am and I had no where to go. Sighing to myself, there wasn’t anything I could do other than get in my car and crash. Putting the seat down and retrieving a pillow, I saw Ricci’s truck drive in through the gate sometime before dawn. Perhaps the next day, I could go to my Mom’s and sneak in the bathroom and take a shower, which I did. That night, Mom kicked me out saying she had Doc some fuck bud there and out I had to go. Whatever. It was only ½ acre house, but laughing I told myself, “Come on let’s go see if Dave will let you crash in the back room of his place. If not, then I’ll crash in my car. That night Dave agreed to let me crash on the floor in the spare room.
Anything was better than my car or his garage. At least I had a nice sizeable chunck of dope, which was in my case more valuable than cash for bartering. I was excited because I knew she had a nice chuck of cash coming to her from her income tax return. I had it all worked out how I’d spend the $800. I’d use it to get a studio or something. Of course once I had it, the first thing I wanted to do was buy some speed and stay at a motel room. This time I would treat. I told Ricci I’d get an 8 ball for us to party and get happy. Once I got my money, I paid off a couple people I owed money to and was glad I did. Mother however was not happy with the fact I paid these people off instead of getting a place. No studio would let me rent without a “real” job so why not pay them back? I reasoned. This time around April 1997 me and Ricci partied at the Fullerton Moter Lodge. It was right down the street from this character that I knew for a brief time. I was able to afford rent of $250 that both Dave and this guy Paul down the street charged when they did rent rooms. Dave would not rent the spare room in his house. Paul reniged on his offer saying there was no way he could rent a room to me unless I agreed to fuck him. Then he said,” At least give me a free show.” What a fucking jerk. That night, I was only 5 houses walk from the motel. Ricci and I did a bunch of speed. Then I proceeded to walk straight up to Paul’s bedroom window at 3:00am and knock. He was quite pissed off and he told me so. “Just open the blindes Paul and look out the window for a minute,” I said. I had been completely naked except for a huge red wraparound Egyption shawl covering me up.
The second Paul did as I asked and peeked out the blindes, I opened my shawl and flashed him full on nude. “Here’s your free show motherfucker! Have a lovely evening!,” and with that I ran as quick as I could into the night back where I came from. Laughing hysterically, my face was full on wet with tears from laughing so hard. Gripping the key in my hand, and bracing myself to make a quick sprint toward’s the direction of the motel room I addressed these 2 young Mexican dudes all the way at the far end of the alley. “Excuse me guys but are there any cops down there?,” I asked. “No,” they said. “Have a lovely fucking evening,!” I exclaimed laughing in this maniacal laughter once again. Opening my red cape and once again giving them the full tour, I ran off and quickly dashed up the stairs and into the motel room. “WAAAAITT!” HEY WAAIIITT!,” they could be heard begging as they ran in my direction to try to find out where I disappeared to. Ricci and I could hear the 2 of them saying “Where did she go? Where did she go?” At which point I fell to the floor laughing so hard my face was wet, and my abdomen muscles were protesting. “Your’re going to get us busted,” said Ricci calmly. “Since when did you get all paranoid about that? Fuck you Ricci you need to be sucking on some of that glass dick!” I retorted. Snorting and sucking all night long is what we did. And for the first 4 years we knew each other, that is what we both did up until 4 years ago and I switched to slamming. Both of us for the most part, were nomads and content so long as we could create, had a little cash, and speed. What more did one need?
End of part 2
