Subject: Jake's Vacation Highlight
JLSnoop@aol.com
Date: Sun Dec 31 2000 - 05:05:32 GMT
When we got high the first Saturday of vacation, we defiantly had nothing
better to do, and probably a few things worse in the long run. We spun
ourselves into a frigid pillow-fight state of hilarity usually only seen in
movies where people pretend to be high. We were high like we were in a goddam
movie! In a demoralizing and heroic move, I blew snot on myself while
laughing.
Marley and I talked in an elevator until we realized that we hadn’t
pressed the button, and had been hanging in ignorant suspension kept up only
by our own stupidity and enthralling personalities for five minutes. Then,
when a Japanese family walked in, we laughed uncontrollably on opposite sides
of the car until we had to leave. She went on to talk for six minutes about
wiping your nose and every word was like whipped cream being dalopped on my
brain. It was an absolutely perfect monologue. It might have been composed
and redrafted by any semi-observant person over a matter of hours. She just
spat it out like it was toothpaste.
Jessie and I discussed Full House, and did I mention that I blew snot on
myself? Of course, none of the evening’s manic festivities could truly be
enough of a precursor to prepare us for the macabre event that would follow.
It started with one, screeching across First Avenue like a vengeful and
misplaced bumblebee. Another joined it, and two flashing sets of lights had
suddenly blocked the street. I had just bought some Sausolito cookies (like
in the commercial), and before the bag could fully make a dignified and
complete circle around our crowd, it was upon us. A screaming orgy of
emergency vehicles began to fly past us in a sirenless migration.
They told us there had been a car accident and some cops had been hurt,
but when we reached Second Avenue, we saw that a five block radius had been
locked down like the police were herding sheep. Their trucks, vans, and cars
kept bleeding down the 34th street bowling lane their fellow cops had
cleared. Marley and I looked on, me with the remainder of the cookies in hand
and my aviator glasses shielding my complete confusion. Vicki was freaking
out. "This wasn’t a car accident. Something very big has happened."
And just like that, the midnight midtown blood clot dispersed. Cars
started moving again. It was over. As per my father’s instructions, I got in
a cab ten minutes later to make a lonely trip across a skyline-studded bridge
into Brooklyn. 1010 wins was on (up to the minute radio news), so I told the
driver to turn it up. He was surprised; he probably has people telling him to
turn it down all day. I listened the entire trip, and there was no mention in
the news or the traffic report about any accident.
A PEACE OFFERING BY, JAKE
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