March 29, 2014

March 29, 2014

I had exactly two martinis and a glass of red wine last night when the earthquake hit Los Angeles.  I didn’t feel a thing, but maybe it was the combination of my conversation with Richard as well as the waitress who seems to have the longest legs possible.  It was not just her legs, but she also gave out a certain amount of charm as well.  We were sitting at the smallest table possible, and yet, she was able to put the food and drinks we ordered in perfect spots.  I asked her if she had trained as an interior decorator, and she told me that her apartment is really small.

When we arrived at my doorstep, Richard looked at his phone and told me that there was an earthquake that took place, and it was 5.something or else.  Again, probably because I was a tad high, I didn’t feel it and neither did he.  Or the waitress as far as I know.  When I got to bed, I started to think about this waitress around when I was 19 or 20 years old.  She worked at Sambo’s on Ventura Bouvelard and had the night duty.  Meaning she was there from 10 PM to dawn.  My friend Gary and I would go there around 11, in excuse to have coffee and some sort of desert, but the fact is I think we both wanted to see this waitress.  She had bleached blonde hair, and wore bright red lipstick. She was very slim, and also, had long legs.   The thing about Sambo’s, is the interior of the place was all in the color pink.   Even the food served had a pink glow to it.  In the middle of the night, it was a weird juxtaposition of truckers stopping by for food, due that the Ventura Freeway off-ramp was close by, and these heavy set masculine men in an environment that is basically pink.

She would joke naturally with the truckers, but was awkward with me and Gary.  I remember feeling a little bit weird going there after a while, because my interest was for sure not in the pink interior, but in our waitress, who clearly had no interest in us or to be specific, me, at all.   I have this distinct memory of having a break down of some sort while I was there one night.  I can’t remember why or what caused this emotional melt-down. It may have something to do with a relationship that was going bad at that time.  Nevertheless I remember excusing myself from the table, and needing to get to the bathroom.  I didn’t even need to use the bathroom, but I just wanted to be alone for a few seconds.  I began to cry, and I couldn’t stop crying.   I never cried so hard in my life. It was like if someone unplugged a broken faucet within me and the water flowed out.   As I was crying, I flushed the urinal and the water wouldn’t stop.  Eventually it overflowed and the bathroom became flooded.   I felt my emotional state was one with the plumbing here in the bathroom, and I was immediately ashamed and embarrassed at the same time.   I went back to the table, and left some bills there and got into my car and drove off.

As my thoughts were bouncing around my head, and laying on my back in bed last night, I started to notice a crack in the ceiling that I don’t think was there since last night.   I suddenly felt the sensation of water hitting my forehead.  I didn’t move, or even react to it.  I just accepted that fact, because water is truly a friend of mine.