22:51:01 - 2001-02-12
peace
Sunday I felt really...I don't know, alone?, so I rode the bus all the way to Santa Monica to see her. We'd met in a bar and had a few nice phone conversations...but it was cold on Sunday and weird on the bus and weird getting there and remembering what she looked like. And she was understandably nervous about this disheveled stranger walking up out of the rain and into her warm little house. But we listened to music, and I told some stories, and it was nice. She said she liked my words and took off her shirt and lay down on the sofa underneath one of those old crocheted bedspreads that our old-maid aunts used to crank out, then she closed her eyes and smiled. I just sat there in an armchair sipping my whiskey, listening to the cold rain pissing down on her roof. I imagined it falling on the beach outside and I just watched her lay there...
Midnight and I'm standing at the corner of Pico and LaBrea, and the rain is pretty much officially freezing at this point. I've been standing here for forty minutes and haven't seen a bus traveling in either direction. There is no shelter. But my belly is full of warm Bushmills, and my face and hands are covered with hot perfume...I feel all right.
