The Dirtbag Vernacular [Original Novel]

ENTRY 32

On a Saturday night in May, Jimmy and I drive way out to the dingy outer-Mission to a party at Mark Doyle’s place.

Loud rap music blares as we enter the strange place that looks like it used to be a small store. The main room is a little large for a living room, there is not much furniture, and the floor is concrete. We get a break from the rap when Jimmy puts on some Stevie Ray Vaughn.

We drink beer, grooving to “If the House is a Rockin’ ”, etc., and an hour or so later this girl Sharon shows up with another girl, Rica, who is half Mexican and pretty hot. Jimmy had recently hooked up with Sharon and at the sight of her it looks like he’s picking up on the scent of some good pussy. These Marin County girls stay for no more than fifteen minutes looking obviously uncomfortable in the blue-collar surroundings.

“How long we stayin’ here?” Jimmy drawls bluntly after the girls leave.

“I dunno,” I respond.

“There’s some big party South of Market, all those fucks like that little bald commie and his girlfriend’s crowd’ll be there, some uh the cool people from school, Troy, and some uh the film fucks too…, and Sharon’ll be there.”

Soon we’re headed towards the SOMA party. Jimmy starts talking about Virginia while we ride back into town via Mission.

“Almost got in a fight with Sam Shepard one night in a bar I used to go to. He’d go there too… One night he was coppin’ some attitude…almost went at it… I’d get trashed and go home with some ugly chick I met at a dive or somewhere…walk back five miles or so in the mornin’ to where I lived…started callin’ me Walkin’ Jimmy…be walkin’ along and I’d get about a mile from home a lot uh times…meet up with my cat along the way. He’d be comin’ back from a night uh carousin’ too and we’d walk the rest uh the way together…a cool cat, gray with stripes…”

We find parking in one of the small alleys south of Market where a bunch of artists live.

Inside, in the kitchen we find several bottles of opened red wine. We immediately get into the wine and it’s not long before Jimmy finds Sharon and they both disappear.

“Where’s Sharon?” I ask Rica,

“She went back to her place to fuck Jimmy I think.”

“Oh-h,” I laugh. “You’re a painting major right?”

“Yeah, you’re the janitor right?”

“Yeah, but I was a student long before I was a janitor.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were just some scary maintenance pervert guy always walking around checking out the girls at school.”

“When do you graduate?” I try chatting this hot Latina up.

“Next year.”

“I’m takin’ that Art Writing Seminar next…”

“Fuckin’ Sharon!” Rica abruptly cuts me off. Then whining she continues. “She just fuckin’ leaves me here. I live way up in Marin. I’m supposed to stay at her place tonight… Even if I get a ride back to her place, I can’t stay with her, she’s only got a studio apartment and they’ll be fucking all night.”

I think about the long couch setting in my bedroom, and contemplate offering it to her. But the idea of bringing her back to my place and sleeping on the couch instead of in bed with me is quite unappealing. If I did offer the couch to her it would only be a ploy at trying to get in her pants. I down some more wine and ponder this situation while listening to her go on about her dilemma.

It’s not just Rica that’s on my mind. When Jimmy and I had walked in, Anna, a film student from Germany wearing leather pants, had said hi to me. I’d talked to her on several occasions at school. I’m dead certain she fancies me. The school year is nearly over and she’ll be going back to Germany to finish her degree. So I’m thinking about getting some action before she leaves town.

Anna now stands talking to Troy Martin, a film major who works for maintenance on the cleanup crew sometimes. They’re a few feet away from where me and Rica sit on stairs that lead up to some bedrooms. Anna glances at me from time to time smiling. I start to think about moving on over in her direction and letting the little rich bitch Rica fend for herself.

At a pause in our conversation I stand up and walk over to Anna. “So you’ll be going back to Germany soon right?” I ask with intent. This girl Anna, though she looks pretty cool in her leather pants, is downright unattractive. Not really ugly, but definitely not even cute. I am interested in nothing but a short-term thing with this chick. On the other hand Rica is pretty amazing to look at, but I still don’t know what the odds of laying her are.

I’ve been grinding it out over the last couple of months recovering from Molly the hard way. Sitting in my room in front of my amp with guitar in hand. Going through six-packs, or wine night after night, playing and playing and playing. It’s great for my song writing but not my preferred method when it comes to heartbreak recovery. So I really need to get laid and my gut tells me that Anna is a sure thing.

“Yeah I took a film class a couple years back,” I tell her. “I really like it, I changed my major to film for one semester.”

“Why for just one semester?”

“Because I don’t know it like I do painting and I want to teach someday. I just think I’d be better off with painting.”

“Someone told me you were in a rrock und rroll band, is that true?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh! How exciting! I alsso play in a band. An all girlss band in Gerrmany I can’t wait to get back.” She goes on to tell me that the band is called The Horny Pony, and that they are influenced, among others, by the Bay area’s the Mummies and also British garage punk legend Billy Childish. We chat on like this for a while, drinking wine. Suddenly I see Rica grab Troy, who she’s begun talking to, and give him a big wet kiss. She then stops in the middle of it and stares directly at me. This makes me re-think my decision to go for the sure thing with the less than attractive German native. But it’s too late now and like a guy once said, “A hole’s a hole.”

“Oh! I vish to see a moo-fy! Yes, let’s go to some place and vatch some film.” Anna suggests with a strong accented voice.

“A movie?” I reply. “It’s two in the morning where are we gonna watch a movie?”

“I don’t know. I vish to see the moo-fing light. The poetry of the picture as it moofs. It iss so uhhmaayzing, a mee-racle. You know vott I mean?”

“Yeah…, but I can’t think of anyplace we can watch any film right now, except this one place,” suddenly I remember some film we can watch.

Since my first trip down to the Lusty Lady Theater I have begun to frequent the place on a regular basis. Purging myself of pain and loneliness by taking in the sight of naked female flesh accompanied with masturbation. I’ve gotten to know the place quite well. You can watch not only nude girls, but also there are booths with porno movies on several different channels. And for some reason, probably as a tribute to the history of porn or to try to keep in touch with porn’s past, way back at the end of a winding hallway is a different kind of booth. It has a projector behind glass playing an old school, sixteen-millimeter pornographic film.

“You know uff a place? Vott place?”

“In North Beach.”

“North Beach? Vott film place iss thiss in North Beach?”

“Well, it’s not really any kind of an arty film thing.” I evade the truth because I really want to get this girl out of here and alone as quick as I can and get into her pants.

We walk out of the party, get into the Peugeot and move in the direction of North Beach. We park on Kearny and walk into the Lusty Lady. The place is pretty much empty. I don’t even bother with the sixteen-millimeter stuff. I walk her to the live show.

A girlfriend of Kurt’s had told us that she had come into this place once and gotten an amazing show. Most likely because she was a girl. I want to see if this happens with Anna. We walk into a booth, close the door behind and put some coins in the slot. A girl comes over but only dances a little swaying a bit to some disco. She actually seems a bit uncomfortable, maybe because it’s a couple watching her.

We leave the place minutes later and decide to walk up to Coit Tower, one of the important landmarks of San Francisco, the most visible one in North Beach. We walk up to Broadway, make a left then over to Columbus, up Grant and turn right on Green. Soon we’re climbing Telegraph Hill towards the tower. After our climb we walk around the small parking lot near the edifice.

“Oh look. Can vee see the school ffrom here?” she asks.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been up here before.”

“I vant to make a film here. Yes, at night. Look over there, see? Vott a vonderful shot.” Anna goes on in drunken creativity describing a shot that would most likely seem nondescript if she were sober. I’ve had my hand on her back for some time now. I draw her close and kiss her a bit, she’s quite willing. We move about the place slowly, taking in the night view.

We wander down the hill a ways and then off of a footpath to shrubbery and trees. We stop and really start making out. We both get heated up pretty quick and soon we’re heavily caressing each other. Anna with her hands shoved down my unbuttoned jeans and me sticking a hand up under her t-shirt and bra caressing a nipple. I ignore the feeling that I’m being watched, as there are some other couples around. Also, a couple of drunks are moping about whose voices I can hear mumbling somewhere not too far off. I unzip her leather pants and pull them, along with her underwear down just past her ass.

There on the hillside partially hidden by shrubs and small trees I turn her around and slip my cock in from behind in the standing position. We go at it for two minutes at the most. Then we walk down the hill back to the car and drive off to Anna’s place.

Anna lives at an intersection where the 280 Freeway ends, dumping out onto Haight Street. We make our way up to the third floor and walk into an expanse wood-floored apartment. She gets a couple of beers from the refrigerator.

On top of the tallish German film student I drill her from behind. Both of us completely naked are prostrate on a mattress on the floor in the living room with dawn light coming through the windows.

I roll off of her minutes later and lie there feeling relieved that I’ve had sex again, pushing the pain of the Molly thing farther away.

“Did you use a condom?” Anna asks. “I’ve been with a lot of naughty boys, you should have used a condom.”

Photo by Hoffacurse