Cafe Hitch-hike


Welcome Home (Pt. II)

When I went back home this weekend, I stayed in a Motel 6 so I could get a peaceful night's sleep and not sleep on the floor and get tagged by a group of weasels (oops, I mean my nieces & newphews, see previous entry). I slept well, but I had this wacked-out dream:

I dreamed I was walking down the street with Dr. Ay, my attractive, older Latin orthodonist, and yikes! He touched my face, put his arm around me, and I was hesitant. Thoughts like, "ah, he's married-- ah, I'm attached-- ah, it's not a good idea," made me shrug his advances.

I turned to him, and he had that ridiculously giddy, excited look and confidence that men usually have when they're closing in on the female of their attention. I smirked, realized what was going on and thought, "it's just a dream! Do it, girl!" We stopped at a wall and sat on it, and I dreamed of the oh-so warm and pleasurable sensations of his mouth pressing on mine. My mind and body was on a cloud!

Too bad that dream ended after 30 seconds. What a crying shame.

I went to see him today for my monthly change of bands, chains and elastics. I noticed his hair was recently trimmed, but that he was wearing cologne. Cologne? Ooh, cologne. He never wears cologne. Was that a coincidence, or was there some mutual dream going on? Heheh-HEEEEH!

A Friend in Jesus

I sat with Jesus on the back porch of his sister's house. They still live in the same neighborhood they lived when we were in high school: the very brown, black, and white part of town known as Burton Heights. He lived there all his life, except for the 4 years he lived in Eastown after he left the Navy. In 1978 and 1982, I lived in Burton Heights for a short time while Jesus lived there, but we didn't meet until 1990 at Central High.

Even though we were close to the middle of the town, the neighborhood was very dark and I was able to look at the stars. Jesus was playing CDs he burned of his punk/ classic rock/ instrumental collection, and we were just "chilling", as we'd say in high school. I was enjoying my town again, with its larger homes, big yards, and nighttime skies unflooded by street lights. I basked in the glow of familiarity: I knew that 'hood like the back of my hand, everything in it, everything that could possibly happen, and just felt like I had all the control. I had a history there, my family had a history there, and there could be no wrong.

Neighbors were playing their hip-hop or house music loud enough to be heard in Jesus's backyard, but I didn't care. The music faded after 10 pm.

Jesus got back from Oregon about 3 months ago, after he broke up with his girlfriend who lived there. We were sharing a "High Fidelity" moment. He was talking about his girlfriends and how everything went wrong. We talked about John in our last phone conversation and Jesus knew what that was all about.

"What about you, Hitch-hike? Do you think you'll marry this guy?" he said, asking about John.

"I don't know," I said. "I think he'd like to. It's just me who has to make up her mind."

Jesus talked about his girlfriends, pondering why they ended and where they took them. I did the same, but then some. I talked about my guys. I loved my freedom as much as I hated it. It's cool being able to come and go as I please, do what I want, date who I want, but it can be lonely and isolating. I used to piss and moan about not having anyone, but I don't know, I think I did that for attention and to piss and moan for piss and moaning's sake. It occurred to me: am I ready to get real and give this up?

After talking about our loves, we were able to have some laughs. It was nice being with an old friend again in the hometown, and to remember what it was I came from and to see where exactly I am at this point. It's not common for those things to intersect...

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