Createmas Hour 7 & 8

Hour 7: Create.

Hour 8: Respond

The Rules of the Game + Holding Court (by me)

“The rules of the game are this,” Rabie proclaimed (he always had to be so dramatic), “you roll a die six, and depending on what you roll, you add a shot from a different bottle. Then you roll again and that determines the mix you have to add.” And it would go on like that for at least five minutes once he saw that he had an audience. Longer if there were girls watching. One time, no word of a lie, I saw him get up on the table in order to better address his court. King Raymond. Raymond Bogdan to his mother. Ray B or Rabie to the rest of us. Thought he was hot shit ever since one of his spoken word “poems” got used by some rapper in a mashup on college radio. Maybe he is. Like I would fucking know.

I’d heard it all before. So I left him there in the kitchen with his flock of shorties. My head was pounding and I needed to use a toilet. It had been at least 24 hours since I slept. The job had ended yesterday morning and I hadn’t even made it to bed, passing out on the futon after eating half a pizza left in the fridge. Ray had called at 8 o’clock yesterday night. I woke up to the super irritating ringtone that Raymond had set for his number on my phone. Yeah, it was his rap song. God, I couldn’t get away from it… or him. That’s what I get for saying he could be my room-mate. Well forgive me, but I thought it wouldn’t be a problem. We’d gone on one date during first year, but we both knew it wasn’t going to be a thing so we didn’t bother calling each other back. But we hung out with the same crowd. Too cool for school. So it was unavoidable I guess. I needed a roomie, he got kicked out of his parent’s place. We hadn’t killed each other yet, so there’s that.

By the time I got to the bathroom, I could tell that this was going to be one of those house parties. You know the ones. Police, parents, and the local paper. Consternation all around. The DJ’s were in the zone, and it wasn’t even 11 o’clock yet.


Pout + A moment of hope shared in a Wal*mart parking lot on Boxing Day (by somnambulant)

As seen in The Georgia Straight newspaper and on their website at http://www.straight.com/isawyou:

 

YOU DID THIS posted December 26th, 2011
I am a Man.
I saw a Woman.
When: December 26th, 2011.
Where: Renfrew-Collingwood area, the parking lot of the Wal*mart Supercentre.

 

Me: a brown-haired guy in my mid-thirties, wearing a black leather jacket and blue jeans.
You: a stunning blonde (25-ish?) in one of those big poofy jackets and black yoga pants.

 

I first saw you when I was exiting the store with my daughter. We were exiting the store with a full shopping cart after getting all the deals we could find and were heading to my mini-van. You were also leaving the store but you looked like you only had one thing in your cart, a bluray player or something. You didn’t notice me then, but of all the places (and as I’d hoped) you could park you were parked right beside me. You were driving one of those mini or smart cars. I can’t remember. All I can remember is the shape of your body as you bent over to pick up your dropped keys and as you leaned into your car to put the box in the back. You are gorgeous!1!

 

ANYWAYS, as I was putting my things in the van you took your cart back to the store and as I was rushing back to the store with my cart you had to step out of my way (remember??) and I apologized to you. When I did that you did the unimaginable and smiled your beautiful smile at me. I never knew anyone could light up a grey Vancouver day like that.

 

So I just wanted to thank you for that, but also to let you know the consequences of you walking around and being so beautiful. I guess my daughter had wanted to help me take the shopipng cart back to the store, so had run along with me. Then you smiled, and you wouldn’t know but when you turned and left, I kept on walking, but couldn’t help but watch you go. Well I bumped into my daughter as she stood there waving me into the correct parking spot for the cart. She’s not hurt too badly, but I did knock her over and she scuffed her knee. She almost cried. I hate it when she cries, it’s such a horrible sound, but I promised her she could open her present in the car ride home so I think she’s forgotten the whole thing.

 

I would love to meet if you’re available (if you remember me!?) for coffee sometime. Just send me a private message here and we can arrange it (I’ll need time to find a sitter).

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