Smells Like Summer. Tastes Like Christmas Tree.

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Need You Now – Cut Copy

Invaluable few lessons have re-reared their heads in the past few days. Just in case I ever forgot…

1. It only takes an instant to dislike me.

Kind of odd. Take tonight. Met my buddy Chowder in Barneys for a pint. Ordered up. Standing at the bar. Random girl sitting on a bar-stool groans at me…
Can you leave?
Excuse me?
I don’t like the look of you. You’re in my way. Just leave.
What do you mean? Do I know you?
What’s your problem? Get out of my area!
(Now is when I copped on that this strange ape was instantly offended merely by my presence. Oddly, I instantly disliked her just by her mouth opening.)
So I said… Pardon? (While thinking: What a ghoul bag).
She said… Are you deaf? Get out of my area, I can’t see the rest of the bar.
So I said… Pardon? (While thinking: Her friends are quite hot. Pity she’s an ape).
She said… Are you dumb too? Do you not speak English? Get away from this area! You’re blocking my view.
So I said… Pardon? (Thinking: And her breath stinks. Three for three).
She said… Can you not say anything else? I’m warning you. Leave! You’re so ugly.
So I said…
Nothing. Just drank my pint. And smiled at her with the dumbest face I could muster. Wasn’t too hard to pull out of the bag.
And then she left.
Funking ape. Although she was an ape dressed as lamb. And if she’s reading, you angry ape, apologies for offending you with my looks. They can be hard to deal with, I know. Particularly in certain light and especially without warning.

2. When DJing, remember to ignore all song requests.

3. Asking a girl an innocent question might not be as innocent when said to a gay man.

DJigging. Guy comes up to the booth. Requests “that song”. What song? That song? I need more than that buddy, you’ve given me “that” and “song”. Same spiel. Goes off. Googles it. Comes back. Can you play this song? Rar diddy rar. Where are you from? Now usually, when it’s a girl who asks me this question, I tell her I’m Irish and 9 times out of 10 her response is…‘Oh my Gawd! Me too! Well, I’m half Irish? Yeah, I’m half Irish too!’ To which I reply… Oh yeah, top or bottom? Cue confusion. Which half of you is Irish, top or bottom? And then she guesses… Well I have my Mum’s eyes and smile and she’s Kenyan, so I guess I’m… Bottom Irish? Yeah, that’s what I thought. You look bottom Irish alright. And then she dances off delighted.

Anyway, quite innocent when that conversation is with a girl. However, when that conversation is going on with a gay guy while you’re absentmindedly in the middle of mixing…

Oh my Gawd, I’m Irish too!
Oh yeah… Top or bott… Tut… Two seconds there buddy, just mixing these songs.
(Cue eyes wide open. Dashing look to the girl he came up with. Blurts…)
Ohhhh! I don’t mind, top or bottom. Whichever you prefer! That is so awesome. I didn’t think you were…
Pardon? Were what? Didn’t think I was which now?
You know… (Wink)… Want a drink?
Pardon? (Quickly go back over what was said)… Oh balls. Ehh. Yeah. I’ll play that song. Right now. If you go dance, deal? Deal. Cheers. Good duck.

Absentminded off. Dodge on!

4. Always be careful of flying trees.

Weather in LA at the moment is savage. Feels like summer and it’s only January. 76 degrees or something like that (24º in other worlds). How mighty! Unreal. Anyway, the other night I decided to jog to the gym. As opposed to my usual plodding. Weather is savage. Jog on! Night time. Skipping along. Downhill. Speedy pace. I notice the pavement ahead is cluttered with all sorts. People have left things on the side of the road to be thrown out. Spot a mattress. Dodge around, zig. As I do, a car pulls out of a driveway. Veer around that, zag. Sudden ig-aging throws me slightly off balance. Still skipping on. Tightrope with the curb as I do. Delighted with all my dodging. Delighted that I’m running along! Delighted!

Until out of nowhere, comes a flying tree. As you do. Flying Christmas tree, to be exact. 6 feet of pine, flying at me from the right. Full force into me. All I could do is grab hold and fall with. As I am still running. Running. Spinning. Falling. Straight into a couch that was also out on the side of the road. Down we went. Timbeerrrrrrrrr, went the tree. Oh Betsy, went me. Down like a ton of pricks. Thank funk for that couch. Bounced on it. Then off it. Hugging pine the whole time. The two dudes who threw the tree out blindly from their driveway, quickly yanked it off me. Helped me up. We all had an awkward laugh about it. Saw the look of fear in their eyes that I might sue them. No worries lads. Only a cut to the face. Although my neck is a bit dodge… Dust down. Ran on. Fun times!

So. Final lesson learned: LA is a magical place where anything can happen! One minute it smells just like summer and the next… Tastes like Christmas!

Running With Insanity – Alcoholic Faith Mission

One thought on “Smells Like Summer. Tastes Like Christmas Tree.

  1. Pingback: MP3-Alarm! (XII) - | Musikmagazin für Indie, Rock, Electro

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