Again, here I sit not ready for yet another adventure with the Grip. You may have heard him referred to in such other tweets as “Colon boy” “The Gaffer” “Fail” etc. Don’t let the multiple identities fool you. It’s all one and the same.
I won’t tell you too much about him. Details are irrelevant even if that’s where the devil resides.
He is, however, in every way possible amazing. And no, I won’t be sharing him, sorry.
He arrives at my door with a single white rose in his hand. (It’s dead now btw in case you’re reading this dear)
“Who’s yard did you steal that from?”
“It was an old lady. Don’t worry, she didn’t notice. Probably senile anyway..”
He’s going to give me a tour of this city.. and not just his bedroom. Haven’t had that tour yet although I’m sure one is in the works. I mean… It’s coming up. I mean..
He gave me vague details about what we would be doing. He was adamite that he wouldn’t get lost. He got on the 10 near my apartment. Wrong way. Within a few minutes.
It was the ongoing theme.
First up was the Iam8bit gallery showing in Hollywood. I’d tried to go there opening night but the line was insane. It’s a small gallery, but it was cozy.
After that, we headed to Pinks. Now, I have friends here that I’ve asked about taking me there. I’ve heard all these stories about how amazing the hot dogs are there. I’ve seen the lines. I’ve wondered what the big deal was. I wasn’t going to have that first experience alone. So, even though I still believe that the best dogs are in Chicago.. it was a treat. It was like a warm welcoming.
We talked about everything and nothing. I asked him what his favorite Resident Evil video game was. Some random strangers chimed in. Only in this great town does something like that happen right?
Next stop was to a place called Cliftons’s cafeteria. You’d never know it was there from the outside. Downtown. You walk in and its like a woods. It’s campy. Its dusty. Fake logs. Fake stuffed badgers. A fake fireplace that didn’t even have a fake fire in it.
I was told this place inspired Disneyland. Funny, because the only description I can really give is the scene from the goofy movie.
There were old men sitting at the tables on the main floor. It was like a VFW. Fathers with their daughters. But wonderful nostalgic music.
I got up. I danced. People around us looked. He wouldn’t get up and dance with me. He was too busy blushing.
“Damon danced with me in the cafe the other day..”
“That’s not fair..”
“Uh huh.. chicken.”
He told me later he was right about to dance with me, but I sat down. A likely story.
More later.. he’s actually here & I haven’t gotten dressed for the next trip… I need to find some comfy shoes.