One Night

(Something older I wrote, just for fun)  
 
Well- I was toolin' along, just doing my days,  
When I came across this Sister, kinda in a daze-  
In the middle of nowhere, which is just kinda like  
somewhere without a name.  
 
It might have struck me peculiar, if she wasn't so  
damn cute  
And me being male, that kind of thinking just doesn't compute-  
You can't just go diving into folks' faux paus like  
that, especially when little brother testosterone give ya nudge and says, "Hey man, you need to check that out."  
 
Now, I'm never really sure whether to trust my  
hormones  
On account of that I'm not really sure, whether they  
friend or foe-  
Strong arguments could be made for both sides of that  
particular issue- so I was tenuous, but curious  
nonetheless.  
 
She said "Hi"- and I nodded, said "That's what I  
figured too."  
And it took a little bit, for the wit to work its way  
through-  
Before this grin came out, she rolled her eyes a  
little and said- "No I'm straight."- and I said "I'm  
sorry"- then let her fill in the blanks.  
 
"Well I got a remedy, for that unfortunate condition;  
There's a bar down the ways, with a few musicians-  
Who manage to play every song you never-ever wanted to  
hear again in your life, but the booze is good." I  
said, which even odder still- worked.  
 
The band was in rare form, doing a cover of Spandau  
Ballet  
Which I thought was sufficiently covered, without the  
replay-  
But they must have been doing it well, because I was  
instantly reminded how much I didn't like that song in  
the first place.  
 
Well, we had worked our way through some of the  
awkward parts,  
Talking about the joys & woes of the life, and the  
affairs of the heart-  
Where I just proceeded to nod alot, because. .. well,  
I didn't really have anything to complain about.  
 
I mean sure, that happily ever after thing never quite worked out;  
But I had more than a few grins and smirks, and my  
fair share of smiles to think about-  
And was in the process of trying to pad out my little  
mental cache of more pleasant memories.  
 
And once we got beyond the asses and villains  
Who did the Sister down, with no respect for her  
feelin's-  
There just came a point where I brushed all that off  
our table, because what someone might have wanted to  
happen don't mean a damn thing against what did.  
 
And you can get as pissy and ornery about it as you'd  
like  
But there are alot softer and warmer things to cozy up  
to at night-  
Which brings us back to my tale, which has its own  
turns and twists to tell.  
 
You see, I was thinking one thing, but not avoiding  
the other  
I thought I was playing, but I was being played  
Brother-  
Or Sister- I'd imagine this kind of shit works both  
ways, no matter if your booties were pink or blue.  
 
The band took the trouble, to knock us out of our  
making nice groove  
By dedicating a song, "to the couple at table number  
two."-  
And I groaned and told her, "Now they're trying to  
blame us for the shit.", and she giggled as my head  
dropped as they launched into a fairly accurate  
rendition of "Precious & Few". (Which I do NOT  
consider a good thing.)  
 
I told her- "There's the exit, make a fast break.  
I got your back, better not wait-  
I'll grab a chair if I have to keep the angry mob  
back.", to which she chuckled and patted my hand- and  
said "I think we'll probably be alright."  
 
"Aw hell yeah.", I nodded. "Gotta love a woman who  
make her stand;  
Even when put in harm's way, by a hack house-band."-  
Her brow arched, she said "Oh really?" To which I  
replied, "Umm. ..err. .uhh . . ...well.", and she just  
smiled and let me off the hook.  
 
Which in some pecuilar way, drew me closer.  
Kinda cool not to make me squirm, under that female  
type torture-  
Of having to explain every damn fool thing you ever  
said and did, with some better justification and  
rationale than - "It sounded cool at the time."- or "I  
didn't really mean it like that".  
 
We sat through the tune- which I made clear to her was  
not "our song".  
I was never quite sure how a band with such a cool  
name, could write something so wrong-  
But I would be lying if I said I was shocked that the  
tune was Clymax's one and only claim to fame- on  
account that there is only so much syrupy drivel one  
person can take, no matter how bad their sweet-tooth  
might be.  
 
Somehow, somewhen, we ended up walking outside.  
And there were some parts that still shine, like stars  
and the moonlight-  
Which is all one is likely to hear about it from the  
likes of me, and it's not really what this is all  
about. Try True Confessions man- because when it comes  
to that, this books is closed.  
 
Point is- I woke up the next morning feeling like I  
had been stoned.  
I'm not talking about the boozing kind, but more about  
the kind that hurts your bones-  
Sort of like in the Biblical sense; back when the  
national past-time seemed to involve chucking rocks at  
folk they didn't particularly care for. Kind of gives  
one a finer appreciation of baseball, because there is  
just no one wants to be in that kind of pickle.  
 
I woke up feeling nasty, and alone.  
Eventually I got up, and made the long walk home-  
Where I was immediately struck by the less than  
wonderful aspects of yodeling. My roomie at the time  
liked Slim Whitman. Don't ask me, I'm not even sure  
what was wrong with him.  
 
Well Brother Slim, just had to go.  
So I peeled out the disk, and gave it a good throw-  
And the cat sort yo-du-ladee-hooed across the parking  
lot of the apartment complex.  
 
"Bad night?", my roomie grinned wide.  
"The nightwas fine, but this morning has room for  
improvement.", I said, rubbing my eyes-  
It wasn't really like a hang-over so much, but my  
pillow was beckoning me - come hither man, before you  
crash. Which was the plan- but my roomie decided to  
get conversational.  
 
"What happened to you neck?", which brought about a  
cheeky grin that hurt  
Said, "Don't ask stupid questions man.", I said as I  
stripped of my shirt  
Looking for anything that might make this all go away,  
far away- which ended up leading back to my cure-all.  
If there was really any worthwhile remedy against the  
evils of the world- numb worked for me.  
 
"Damn dog, you look like something that cat drug in.  
And speaking of that, Theo pissed on my clean clothers  
again."  
He said with a snarl, to which I asked "What'd you do  
to piss him off?" My cat has a vindictive nature, to  
which no mortal could hope to break through. A virtual  
diabolic genuis in the art of revenge- to which I was  
blissfully spared.  
 
Ignoring his query, I said "I'm hungry man, what do we  
got?"  
He sort smirked and said," For munchies,  
Crunch-berries always hit the spot."  
I shook my head and his brow raised, said "No, I'm  
craving something.", and he began to nod.  
 
"Crunch-berries Dude, I'm tellin' ya man!  
It's like the most perfect food, for a batchelor-pad.  
You don't have to cook it, you can't hardly mess up on  
the recipe and ingredients- and even if it gets a  
little stale, it's still not bad.", he said. "No  
really Dude! Crunch-berries are a single man's major  
staple- along with Spaghettios and beer."  
 
I just sort of looked at him and blinked,  
I wasn't really even sure what to think.  
It scared me a little, sorta like a slap in the face.  
I'd known him all of my life- and yet, there it was.  
Every little nit-picky thing I'd ever heard a woman  
utter had just sprouted wings man, and came home to  
roost. I felt dirty and ashamed, which was pretty much  
back to good after a bit more more of my home-spun  
remedy for everything I didn't care to think on too  
heavily.  
 
And almost like an act of rebellion- I took off my  
socks and flung them on the floor.  
I went in and lifted the toilet seat, grabbed a beer  
and turned on sports-  
Which might seem childish. but this is America man.  
And one is still pretty much free to act as much an  
ass as their natural inclinations are so disposed.  
 
And that might have endured, if thoughts of the night  
before;  
Hadn't trickled back in; some good times there, and I  
wanted more-  
I went to sleep for a while, and when I woke- I picked  
up my socks and lowered the seat back down, just in  
case she came over. But I wasn't changing the channel,  
even if it was just sports news. I had pretty much  
made a vow that if I ever got hooked up again, I was  
calling the cable company to have the "Lifetime"  
channel blocked from access.  
 
That and Oprah man, are just bad times  
When you come home from work to find-  
That Mama is pissed off at you already, and you didn't  
even do a damn thing- but you're male, and you damn  
well best have some Crunch-berries in supply. (Or  
Spaghettios. Best not to push the beer-thing though my  
Brother, and you will be experiencing a sports  
black-out that has absolutely nothing to do with  
ticket-sales.)  
 
In marriage, it's best to forget all you know about  
the free-world,  
Where you plunk down your money, and get its  
approximate worth-  
You just sorta sign your pay-check, and for the  
investment- you get to figure out why the roof is  
still leaking, why you have brown-spots on your front  
lawn, how you are going to afford this or that after  
you done gave up all you had- and my personal  
favorite, why the toliet keeps running, or the washer  
keeps making "funny noises" when in the spin-cycle.  
(Believe it or not, you will become a funny noises  
expert- whether that be the car, your furnace, or even  
the family pet.)  
 
The good news though, is that you don't have to have  
the right answer  
Because the Sister has already figured out you don't  
know shit, and has prepared for the disaster-  
Which will naturally lead to you calling someone in to  
figure it out, that don't sound too bad until you get  
the bill. If you're really good, you'll sorta just  
stand around the defective what-not, call over some  
friends and have a few brews. Which not only gives you  
some time with your buds, but also someone else to  
blame when things go terribly wrong.  
 
And if by some fluke chance, you happen to make it  
right.  
Don't count your chickens man, because its not over by  
a far-sight-  
On account that there is always stuff that needs to be  
changed; remodeled, repaired, replaced, renovated,  
removed, or re-routed. Remember back in school when  
there were only three R's?  
 
Okay- all that being said, logic might seem to  
implicate  
That you don't do what you're going to do anyways-  
It's a paradox man, and just by that similar sort of  
engima was I provoked to pick up the phone. I mean, I  
obviously had the Crunch-berries to fall back on. But  
I had just heard "Precious and Few" on the radio,  
which still sucked- but well. ..  
 
"Hey.", I said, not a clue why I was smiling  
It wasn't like she could see it, nor even devining-  
The whys and wherefores of anything you do when you  
just happen upon one of life's so ever rare peaceful  
easy feelings- that can be provoked by just a sound of  
a soft voice saying hello.  
 
All my sickly feelings just sort of went away.  
We made some plans, everything seemed okay-  
Except for this gnawing feeling that something had  
changed inside of me- acting odd and not feeling prime  
until I heard her voice. I told myself as I hung up  
the phone I was too old to be acting like this.  
 
Yet, it wasn't really like that- different,  
And that craving really never left-  
But I was feeling better than before, better than  
usual actually- strangely better and rather ravenous.  
 
We met and made some merriment, shared a few laughs.  
Once alone again, given to chance-  
I wasn't drunk this time, which all started out to be  
very cool- and then suddenly went dark.  
 
My breaths came in harsh and angry throes,  
It wasn't about what you might typically think those  
things go-  
Mostly the same, except I suddenly had become aware  
that I could no longer breathe.  
 
She was leaned in close, seemingly nibbling  
Except that Gal had a longer set of teeth-  
I tried to fight her back, feeling everything go  
uncomfortably numb and distant- fading fast into a  
cold black oblivion.  
 
When I wound my way back around to the land of the  
living,  
I was kicked back into a lush bed, with only what  
nature had give me-  
A half nekid Glen Danzig staring back at me, a bunch  
of stuffed animals strewn around my head, and the  
omnipresent scent of pot-pourri. I wasn't quite sure  
if this was Heaven or Hell, or some place in between.  
 
I sat up and found my clothes folded at my feet,  
And Glen was just a poster, which was a little more  
reassuring to me-  
On account of that while I might think his music was  
alright, that Brother was tarrying in some dark wood  
that I'd just as soon forego.  
 
In my head that old Blind Faith song kicked up,  
With Clapton on guitar, and Winwood's all whispery and  
winsome stuff-  
And maybe finding my way back home wasn't such a great  
idea, seeing as Brother Roomie had probably ate all  
the damn Crunchberries.  
 
I hit the door, only half dressed  
Not even sure, what kind of mess-  
I had gotten myself into, when a Strat hit my ear- not  
the guitar but the violin. Hey man, I might be a  
long hair, but I wasn't born in a commune.  
 
It was Big Brother B, Beethoven that is  
All soft and calm, the Pastoral Scene-  
The Fifth wasn't my personal fave, but you had to  
count 'em when you got 'em- and it a blessing it was,  
as the little Gal strolled on over with a glass of  
wine in her hand.  
 
Now, just for the record, I'm not the vino type  
Like Kool-Aid gone bad, but the server looked nice-  
And there were candles all about, where everything  
seemed warm and nice, and smelled nice too- which was  
a far-cry from the place I called home.  
 
I mean- the dishes were not only done, but put away  
And there probably weren't any chunkies in the  
microwave-  
From one of my roomies failed cooking experiments- The  
boy tries, ya got to give him that, but I still did  
most of my eating out of a bag.  
 
There's only so many french fries a cat can handle  
anymore,  
And there wasn't anything one could do with a burger,  
that I hadn't done before-  
Including more than a few things that should never  
have been done with it, like that extra-funky Rodeo  
thing- and I was working my way through the chicken  
versions of pretty much the same ole- same ole. (Just  
for the record, funky isn't good. Well okay, I like  
Sly & the Family Stone- but that's pretty much the end  
of that list.)  
 
She asked, "How do you feel Baby?"  
And there was a subtly magic word there, that there's  
just no saving-  
Because it sorta lulls ya into a stupor, and it's sort  
of like a possessive pronoun without the apostrophe.  
 
I shrugged and said, "Okay I give, what'd you do?  
I'm not a young pup, but that was all new.  
And a little scary- fun is fun and all, but. .", and  
everything just sort of got derailed with a small  
smirk and shrug. It's a feminine power that makes that  
answer work- So don't even try it guys, unless you  
just bought a fresh box of Crunch-berries and miss  
that quality time with Captain.  
 
It took us a bit to get back to talking,  
I'm surely not complaining, just sorta hopping-  
Sort of like a made for TV movie, with all the more  
risque' scenes left to your imagination- and is  
probably one of the stronger arguments for cable.  
 
Well after that, it didn't take long to come out;  
And by the time she was done, my brows were way down-  
But she kissed my forehead and made it better, which  
is just one more of those things you can blame your  
mother for.  
 
It's sort of like classical conditioning man,  
Because it don't change a damn thing, but you think it  
can-  
And it's sorta like that Precious & Few thing, it  
sucks- but well. . .  
 
We hit the night, like two toddlers cut loose,  
Experimenting with life, and looking for stuff to get  
into-  
When we crashed and tumbled into this little joint  
called the Noctuary- Big time spooky man, where all  
the bad little children come out to play.  
 
Now I've been down a few stranger avenues  
But this was like a greatest hit, in that particular  
venue-  
Four dogs up on the stage jumping and screaming about  
how they had been screwed in life- and not seemingly  
in a nice way.  
 
Hey man- I'm all about cuttin' loose and getting wild  
Chuckles and giggles, and cheeky little smiles-  
But wasn't anybody smiling, which I guess isn't chic'  
in nosferatu land- Which led me to humming George  
Harrison's "I'll Follow the Sun".  
 
Not a good go, not by a long shot man,  
Seems Brother George didn't have too many fans-  
Not in that crowd least-wise, and they were a bit  
sensitive about the subject matter as well. I'd say I  
felt like a leper, but a leper might have fared a  
little better in that room.  
 
Doesn't take too much shoving to get me gone,  
Which is fair to say, we didn't stay long-  
But the bigger problem was what the hell a  
revamped butterfly-baby was going to do with his new teeth.  
 
The Sister shot down, my initial solution.  
She said "No, you can't eat the politicians."-  
But I got a little giggle out of the deal, which sort  
of helped with the disappointment- but not the problem  
at hand.  
 
She came out with this enchanting little theory,  
Well at least at first, then it got a little dreary-  
I was a tad shocked that she suggested I should try  
seduction, even if I had a prayer of making that kind  
of thing work.  
 
"Now Sweetheart, that's just rude.  
A sister lets you in her goodies like that, and you  
just use her as food."  
Which got another little giggle, and she said "You're  
not human anymore."  
 
Now folk, I'm here to tell ya- it takes a real strange  
twist  
To make me think, my humanity has gone amiss-  
I never counted it as one of my blessings. But like a  
heavy enlightening, it just sorta fell on me like a  
ton of bricks.  
 
I mean, it was human that said "Give me liberty or  
give me death."  
Another that said "Freedom never rests."-  
And I sure as hell didn't need any more vices in my  
life- we just sort of stopped on the street, my  
eyes rising up slowly to hers as I said, "I can't do  
this."  
 
"Sure", I went on. "Every damn fool thing that has  
happened, was most likely man-made.  
As many new lives as we create, we seem to dig just as  
many graves.  
And it pretty much sucks most of the time, but there  
are times that it don't." I shrugged and looked away.  
 
 
Sometimes when you flip the coin, you don't get  
the side you wanted to see.  
Which isn't entirely about her and me-  
But kind of how life is and goes- it's a living thing  
that's still breathing and growing and becoming what  
it needs to be.  
 
And there has been more than once, where I was ready  
to write it off,  
But like Joni Mitchell said, "You don't know what you  
got till its gone"-  
I rather figured this was the end; whether I was right  
or wrong, who the hell knows- I couldn't change that  
man, it was about what I was about.  
 
She went her way, and I went mine  
Even if it didn't truly go away for some time-  
I went home to more bad yodeling action, and as dumb  
as it seemed- I just got this strange grin.  
 
I mean, why in the hell would anybody care to learn  
To bellar out like that, like their feet were on fire  
and their ass starting to burn-  
But it's a human thing man- sometimes trivial and  
dumb- but I turned it up anyways.  
 
My roomie looked up at me, as I sat on the couch  
His brow lifted up, as I sighed and sorta slouched-  
"Do we have anymore Crunch-berries man?" I asked, and he just grinned and nodded.