Thursday, March 30, 2017

The Wilderness Years - One Night in the Red Light (pt. 2)


Bridgette stood and watched as i took a seat at the bar and ordered a minty fresh Heineken, what the fuck i was in the 'Dam, she said what song American? i grinned at her and said Papa Don't Take No Mess what the fuck else, a few stools down a pair of regulars nodded approvingly, good one!! Bridgette screamed, i like you American... she proceeded to light a cigarette and and ask the usual questions, i answered and then pointed towards a door in the back, do i get my grass back there? she laughed and explained the deal, there was a coffee shop two doors down, a local one she said and not a tourist trap, i could go and get whatever i wanted and come back and do it in the bar, as long as i wasn't an asshole, i shook my head and smiled, fair enough i said, she took my beer and put it behind the bar, go ahead and get yourself sorted she said, i'll keep your beer cold...

Upon entering my first coffee shop i wanted to fall to my knees and kiss the floor, raise my hands to the ceiling and yell Jah Rastafari!! basically be a total knob because i was overwhelmed to be standing in a place like this, i got the menu rundown, quality ran top to bottom with the bottom being pretty damn good and top being mind melting, it was 1998 and the White Widow had just won the Cannabis Cup, it was the shit us American stoners would drool over as we perused the latest issue of High Times, and now it was right here in front of me, i was going to have the Widow, i bought a few grams and some papers and went back to the bar, Bridgette set me a fresh beer down and winked and one of the regulars came and sat down near me, whaddya get? he asked, White Widow i said, good choice he said and we began a most pleasant conversation as i ground up my weed and began rolling a king size joint...

I took my time grinding and rolling and while i was at it the Regular watched, he asked if i was going to put any tobacco in the joint and i laughed and said why would i do that? it'd ruin it in my book, besides we septics like it straight to the head i laughed, little did i know...my king sized joint finished i lit up... Regular and i had been talking for a bit and he was a good sort, Bridgette seemed to know him well and would sit in on the conversation when she wasn't busy, i was about halfway through the joint when it hit, like running straight into a brick wall named panic and anxiety, this was the strongest weed i had ever smoked at the time and i was fucking scoobied, Regular asked if i wanted to shoot some pool, my reply was i don't shoot pool when i'm stoned, i knew my whole demeanor had changed, it hit me that i was 4 or 5 thousand miles from my hood, fucked-up and having no idea where my room was let alone how to get back to it, and here this guy wants to shoot fucking pool? he looked and laughed, you alright? a game of pool? i suddenly thought he was hitting on me, he wasn't of course it was just i was so far gone i didn't know whether to shit or blow bubbles, i politely excused myself and ran out into the beautiful September night...

The night air helped and i immediately went to the Beer Cart and bought three Heineken's, one of which i had the Cart Guy help me shotgun, my logic being a quick influx of alcohol to dull the weed, solid thinking right? i took a deep breath and cracked one beer and stuck the other in my pocket and took a look around, i needed to chill and what better way to do that than peruse the lovely alleyways of the Red Light District...  and so i began walking...

I walked the narrow alleys and looked at the girls, i sauntered by the corners where women in huge windows stood blankly gazing out at the passersby, i wandered this way and that and past the Office of Prostitution where the girls records were kept on file, just past that i came by a doorway to a house where a beautiful Jamaican girl stood smoking, she motioned me over and she said i should come in, i put up my hands and said no no not today, from behind her another rather large woman stepped out, she grinned at me, what's the matter boy you don't like the black girls? i smiled, no no nothing like that it's just my first night here, they both stepped back and laughed, the big one squeezed her breasts together and cackled, c'mon boy we give you first one free, i smiled and walked quickly away as their laughter rang out across the way...

By now i had come somewhat back down to Earth, the panic had left and i stood shaking my head at what an idiot i must have looked like at the bar, i had finished my beers and hands in pockets i began walking the alleys again, i was sort of half daydreaming when i saw her but when i did i think my mouth actually fell open, she was in mid-alley on one of the narrower ones, she had jet black hair that was tied in big braids, she was blue-eyed and creme-skinned, the dimensions of her body flawless, i was fucking floored, i walked past and couldn't get her out of my mind, the imagination went wild, i circled the block and went down that alley again to sheepishly glimpse at her, i thought of Henry Miller, was it possible to see the most beautiful girl you've ever seen working a stall in the red light of Amsterdam? was it possible to fall in love? was it possible to go all in and throw everything you had at her to win her heart? were you fucking insane? no this was all perfectly rational and as i walked down the same alley again i couldn't get the thought out of my mind, stoned and half drunk and walking those old streets it was the most tragic, comic, romantic fucking thought i felt i'd ever had... and then on about my ninth trip down that alley, where my pathetic cruising had seen me smile at her repeatedly as if i was at a junior high school dance, she stepped out of he stall and stood in the alley blocking my path, her smile sexy and her hands were on her hips, she cocked her head and said, American, you gonna fuck me or just look at me all night?  I turned and practically ran the other way...

Epilogue- The next night for some reason i went back to my seedy little bar, i felt the need to redeem myself or something, maybe just to say thanks for being so damn cool, of course part of me was hoping no one i knew was there but as soon as i opened the door Bridgette turned around and laughing shouted, Our American! he made it!! a round of applause went up and the Regular from the night before walked up and bought me a beer, they didn't get many travelers in here and i had been nothing but top notch entertainment, we pulled up seats at the bar and Bridgette turned again and asked if i liked James Brown, you choose i said, and then she turned around, ashtray in hand, my half smoked joint still sitting in it, i think you forgot this she said, fuck that i laughed, you can have it, anyone can have it, the Widow kicked my ass!... there was much laughter and i couldn't seem to buy a beer, there was singing and pool playing and James Brown...


3 comments:

Exile on Pain Street said...

Man, this is why I had to give up weed. That's what happened to me every time I smoked. Granted, I had a tendency to *overdo it,* to put it mildly. All I had to do was dial it back a bit and it would've been an enjoyable ride but I was too young, dumb and stoned too figure that out.

looby said...

Well, sounds like you made a hit over there! What does "shotgun" mean in "bought three Heineken's, one of which i had the Cart Guy help me shotgun"?

I was at a gig once in Manchester once and found myself stood next to this huge black bloke. I thought it might be polite to offer him a toke on my bifta, and I was rather disturbed to see him take it between his fingers disdainfully, before throwing it onto the floor and crushing it with his foot. "Oh well, that didn't work very well," thinking that there was no need to do that -- but I wasn't going to argue with a man a foot higher and wide than me.

Then he proceeded to roll the largest joint (sans tobacco) I'd seen for a long time. He passed it to me and my friends, and whilst I was most grateful for a joint that was far stronger than mine, I felt a bit of a twerp as well :)

Kono said...

Exile- black peppercorns is all you needed, chemically the CBD's are very close to that of cannabis and if you bite off more than you can chew as we say, (something i periodically, lol) you can chew one or grind it and smell it, it helps eliminate the anxiety and panic, i didn't know it then but i know it now and it works, kono-tested kono approved (and a sidelight the first place i heard about this was an interview with Neil Young).

looby- "shotgun" is one of those stupid American tricks where you put a hole in the can so that when you open it the beer shoots out, basically quickly chugging a beer, i was never that big on it but desperate times call for drastic measures... and someday i'll have to post (if i haven't already) about the specials, i used to take hash oil and carefully spread it on a rolling paper and then roll a joint, let it dry for as long as i could, an hour was perfect but usually it was 10-15 minutes, and then we'd smoke it, i could level a room of 6-8 people with one of those, oh youth!!