Welcome to Blogpost #666!
Growing up a Jehovah’s Witness, I was imbued with a fear of the devil, aka “SATAN!” (Say it like the Church Lady.) I put as much faith in the Dark Lord as Jehovah, picking and choosing the best of both belief systems as my own common sense would dictate. The devil’s POV won out, most of the time.
I quit fearing the devil after sobering up. Satan made as much sense as Jehovah in the grand scheme of things, and I came to the conclusion that there were things I wasn’t meant to know. Much like Ozzy or the Pope, if I meet them someday I will be respectful.
Otherwise I’m gonna carry on.
It’s my daughter’s birthday. Has it really been 33 years since the days of diapers and breast milk? I sent her a missive via social media. She is fine; the kids and her are going to the beach for a few days. The Devil’s Daughter is maintaining low tones these days, being a mostly sober mom to a couple beautiful, rowdy kids.
I haven’t completely lost my devilish ways. I celebrated her birthday by eating a raspberry bomb; a large cannabis-infused raspberry cupcake with spiked lemon frosting. It was a dreary Saturday morning, and the cannabis lounge on Hippie Avenue called to me. I asked for their most potent edible, and responded with a guilty smile when they asked if I’d ate it all?
“Hoo boy…” was the consensus. They offered me a hit of hash oil to kill time while I awaited the buzz. After that, I sat in the corner and watched it rain a bit more.
I’d sat up all morning watching Forrest Gump. I was supposed to meet Rain to help her with her storage unit. All I wanted to do was go home and sleep. If I napped early, I would be awake in time to watch the Ducks’ football game. I called Rain, who was still in her pajamas. I told her my plan, and was blessed to carry it out. I ate and fell asleep until early evening.
After the football game, I was restless. It was after 9 PM on a Saturday night. The rain had stopped, the buses were still circling. I tossed on clothes, smoked a big bowl and headed for the bus. If nothing else, I’d go to Safeway for munchies.
As I walked in the cold, windy night, my phone rang. The theme to Dark Shadows and a close-up of Rain’s nipple appeared on my phone screen. I answered, and told her what I was up to.
“I’m hungry. You wanna meet me?”
Of course I did. Instead of Safeway, I’d take her out for a burger. I beelined across town.
I stood outside her building, calling. I texted. After half an hour in the rain I boarded a train back to downtown. I’d gotten out and exercised, I’d buy food on the trip home.
My phone rang again. “Where are you?”
“I’m on the train heading home. I’ve been waiting on you for half an hour.”
“I didn’t get no calls. Hmm. Are you far away?”
“Nope. About three stops.”
“Stay there. I’m on the next train…”
Five minutes later my lovely popped off the MAX. “So… what ya wanna do, fucker?” She was in a good mood. Yay!
“Well,” I said, “You said you were hungry, so I thought we could go to Subway or Mack-Donald’s. I got ten bucks.”
She batted her eyes and softened her look. “Oh baby, I had a bagel a while ago. I thought maybe you were lookin’ for, well, you know.”
“Oh. OH!” My brain shifted gears immediately.
And so we went for a walk in the rain, like a couple of high-schoolers looking for the back seat of a car. Where we ended up is unimportant. We were up for adventure, and we found it.
As we held hands walking to our respective trains, I felt another kind of tingle, an emotional one. Rain’s latest setback has brought us closer together. I am grateful for that. But we both agree, she needs to get her own place soon. Romance is a lot more soothing when you’re not dodging the cops.