For the past month or so, I've been nuturing a new routine of going to Illegal Pete's on Thursday Nights. Either my good friend Rudie of Wax Trax or my good associate Bill from The Swayback DJ as Denver's clique hipster crowd orders cheap drinks and the odd burrito.
The first time I stopped by may have been the first time they started the DJ night. I had just seen Rollins Band with Keith Morris cover every Black Flag song I've ever dreamed of hearing live at one of the most electrifying shows I've ever seen at the Ogden.
Imagine a muggy theatre, I had just taken a heroic piss from the few beers I had at Melissa's house. Keith Morris comes on stage, goes through about four songs without warning, runs off stage at the same time Henry Rollins runs on stage - the rest of the band doesn't stop playing and rips right into the song, Rise Above. I can't remember how many songs he went through, it may have been every non-instrumental, non-spoken word song Black Flag ever put out. Time seemed to move so fast; all I remember is knowing every single lyric, and dancing, dancing dancing. I was wiped out from their performance. I don't think I've ever had to stop and catch my breath before leaving the Ogden.
After that performance, Dan calls me up, tells me to go Illegal Petes and I do. As luck would have it, I had an extra shirt in my car, which I put on, and made my way slowly to Pete's. I felt absolutely out of it, as if I had just been hit a few times by that one fucker in 10th grade. I made it to Pete's found Melissa, wished her happy birthday again, drank her drinks, ate the rest of her burrito and just sort of rocked back and forth in my chair a bit.
For some reason after that night, I got really into the great Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec; the short, funny-looking Post Impressionist that painted prostitutes. There's a good poem by Bukowski about him. Many critics will talk about how his paintings illustrate the alienation of people from their man-madeenvironment and all that. I can relate with Toulouse-Lautrec; it may be that everyone sees themselves as ugly, but even when I hang out at Pete's, I feel that I watch all the pretty girls that I will never get, as he did... or at least he did, until he spelled out the right price.
Whilts getting into yet another fascination with an artist and time period, I thought, well, why don't bring my sketchbook to Illegal Petes and draw from life? Draw people laughing, talking flirting, trying to forget the last four days? So I did. A taste:
I know this may sounds incredibly simple of an idea, but think of how many times you see someone sketching about in your normal, everyday life. It can't be many, cause I never see many people sketching... how can an Artist make a poetic editorial on life without learning from life itself? I realized a few more things: people my age have the silliest haircuts - including myself. Also, when people have a bit of alcohol in them, they don't care if you're staring at them.
Last time at Pete's, I bumped into a girl that I met at a party on Corona. We met actually the week before, at a different party at the very same house:
The first time we met, I was well on my way to obliteration. The semester had ended and I needed to end it in my way. At that party, I brough my digital camera and a Polaroid camera and took pictures of everything. I got into a conversation with this girl. I told her I was a painter and she, amazingly, kept interest, gave me her number, told me to call her and that we should hang out. Severley unreal for me.
So the next week, at the same house, at a different party, she saw me again, pointed at me, uddered, "YOU.". I replied back with a, "Hey! (who the hell is this?)". I quickly remembered. She was a bit pissed I didn't call her, but I vowed to call her the next week and I did. And we hung out and decided we should both hang out again sometime.
Before I called her again, I met her at Petes, as I stated before I went off in that tangent. The first thing she said to me was, "Want to hang out on Saturday?". Again, total befuddlement. Girls don't do this to me. She was wearing a black and white striped top, a funky skirt, fishnet stockings and a silly haircut. I mean, she wasn't Karen O of the YeahYeahYeahs, but it was pretty damn close. Before I left, she said she'd call me on Saturday to hang out. I was stoked.
Friday night, I was lying on my sofa - I don't own a bed, thinking of the next day. I was going to get up early to do a figure drawing session, but as it was, I couldn't go to sleep. I was twitterpated. This girl had gotten to me. I.. couldn't stop thinking about her. I hadn't felt this way since the first girlfriend I had out of highschool. I don't know when I went to sleep, but I got about around 3 pm, missing the 9 am figure drawing session by a bit.
She hadn't called, and I didn't know what to do with myself until she did. I stared at the wall a bit, but then decided to go for a drive. There was a thrift store in a town bordering Denver that I wanted to check out. I knew the general area of where it was, but neglected to actually write the address down on a piece of paper - I was much too out of it. I drove for a few hours, in a violent downpour. I never found the store and I went home, to stare at the wall some more. I gave that up at exactly 7:00 pm to get some coffee at the gay coffee shop next to Queen Soopers. My friend, Penelope works there and I went to her to see if she can give me assistance in figuring out the opposite sex. She really didn't and I told her I'd call her once I finally got stood up. I started to walk home and realized how a double shot of expresso actually doesn't help you when you're nervous and are having a difficult time sleeping.
On my way home, the girl actually did call and we were on for 9:00 pm. 9:00 pm turned to 10:00 pm as the rain storm continued. She turned up, starving, since she hadn't eaten in a while - something horrible happened to her friend and she won't let me - or anyone, really know what happened. We went to Chili's of all places, ate the never ending basket of chips and.. left. She apparently made a pomise to watch Waynes World 2 with another friend and we needed to get to Blockbuster before Midnight.
Shortly after that, she dropped me off. Some date - a total letdown for me. Before I was off, she gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek goodbye. For some odd reason, she had a cold sore on her lower lip, so my jealousy of Unnamed Other Friend was at an absolute zero.
Even after all this, I still wanted to see her again. I don't know what it is, but I like this girl, really really like her. It may boil down to that she likes my work and that means quite a bit to me. And she thinks I'm always upbeat. And she's also a vegetarian. And she's an Art major at UCD. And she's incredibly cute and spunky. And she drives a fast car. And she's not five years older than me. And she has to be at least half Japanese. And she has a cute stomach. And -
I am twitterpated.
After she left, I went out to a party at the Marion Mansion, met up with Melissa and Rudie. Denver's an incredibly weird, small city, as wherever I go, I recognize the same people - be it at different house parties, shows or Hell, burrito restaurants. I wonder what people think of me.
I got up the next day before the 2 pm figure drawing session held by Lucong and drew an exotic dancer for a few hours.
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