The Great Wizzbang

[Thurnez Isa]

thanks Cainad for the title.
wasn't going to put this one here
cause its a little different then others, kind of more journalism then anything, but i write em as it comes to me

Lawyers always buy me drinks. Why is that? What is lawyers fascination with a lost, unimaginative, so-so musician?. I'm friends with his girl friend, another lawyer but a wanna-be hippie at heart, but I still refused his offer, at a least for a while. It must be possible to go to the bars with a group of lawyers and never pay for a  single drink. Especially since as of lately, I only drink one or two beers a night.
Personally I don't like most clubs too much, the woman staggering about with drunken apes, a band  of yesterday radio wannabes and other apes standing like statues dreaming and retreating. Its falsely illuminated, young and sterile. Its in the places were there is less noise, more gore that the stories are thick and alive.
Listening to the band I craved morna, or blues, tangos, or just something with spice. Something that makes me wanna move.
That night was suppose to be a special occasion, of sorts. The hippie lawyer had it all planed out, but of course something went astray.
A friend of a friend just got a new job and apparently I was needed to keep her upright most of the night. She was too drunken and drained to stand. Half a foot taller then me, skinny, dark haired and fascinating. She wore a desperate dress, trying to show off her cleavage. Probably depressed since childhood.
We couldn't twirl or move but bumped around like a pinball set lose into a crowed subway. I laughed every time she knocked into a dancer, the males would never give her guff. She fell upon me several times, kissing me on the cheeks excessively and apologizing for her existence and new job. “I don't deserve it. There are better qualified. I'm sorry.”
It went on till past closing time. The fat chick they wanted to set me up with stood off past the edge of the dance floor, with a pasted smile pretending to have had fun. The evening ended with sub par French Toast and tasteless Scrambled Eggs at one of the 24 hour inns, listening to drunken adolescences  who knowingly blew their weeks salary, and got to see a little flesh. The fat chick was happy with the idea of a buffet, the lawyer couldn't pore water from a jug without spill, his hippie girl friend was dreary eyed and too tired to talk, and my dance partner was smiling, knowing she found a whole new location to apologize in.
I just couldn't wait to get out of there... as far away as i could. We're I could breath and laugh in proper silence.
It seems everyone who is still alive with passion wants to be devoid and dead within this environment - apologize - or just stand in a corner.

[Iason Ouabache]

  I like it, even though I don't know why I like it.

[Cainad (dec.)]

I like it for egotistical reasons. And the story is good, too.

[Honey]

I like it 'cuz I feel like I was there.  Different characters, settings, etc. but the same feeling.  I wrote a very corny song when I was in high school where I used the word "awry" & I thought of that when you used the word "astray" here.  & even now 'cuz a lot of my friends are married or settled into careers or whatever & they invite me into these various kinds of scenarios.  Amusing in some ways but sad too.  I always seem to end up back in some sort of solitary confinement tho.  Odd how that happens?  Strange too how I seem to be prefer it that way?  I also have a strange fascination with the Law.  I was just called for jury duty & I was sort of hoping to get selected for a case.  I didn't get called tho, I had to call in every day for a week to see if I had to show up.  Thanks!  I liked this story.  Respect.   

oh & I used the word "Whiz-bang" just recently in this silly poem I wrote not too long ago.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I liked it because it was very vividly written.

[Adios]

This is why I love to people watch!

[Raphaella]

We couldn't twirl or move but bumped around like a pinball set lose into a crowed subway. I laughed every time she knocked into a dancer, the males would never give her guff. She fell upon me several times, kissing me on the cheeks excessively and apologizing for her existence and new job. "I don't deserve it. There are better qualified. I'm sorry."

I really like this imagery!!

It seems everyone who is still alive with passion wants to be devoid and dead within this environment - apologize - or just stand in a corner.

Sad, but apt. I find that most club scenarios play out this way. Also there is the false disinterest let us not forget that one.