Sunday noon was a rare day off and a wondeful day for eBay. I found a bright orange Pinto wagon with imitation wood siding and yelled to Renee to come in and marvel at it's horrific glory. She was out on the sidewalk and coming in when the shots began to ring out. It wasn't until all five or six had been fired that you could be sure and by then you are wondering whether to duck or run outside and catch the action.
I met Renee at the door and watched the nice folk scattering like roaches for cover on a gorgeous sunny Venice afternoon. She ran for her phone to call the cops and I did a cautious mosey over to the body, kitty-corner by the laundromat.
He took it three times in the back but was still conscious and gurgling blood. The scene was complete with the wailing Hispanic mother crouched over him, screaming "Why? My baby! Why".
"Um... maybe because he was a gang member?" I wanted to say.
Everyone on the scene was dialing 911 as though there was a prize for the 99th caller. I just sort of milled about trying not to look too white or entertained. Soon after the sirens and helicopters had overtaken the place and I went back to Renee across the street. We walked back inside silently and after a beat of looking at each other, taking in what we'd just seen - I smiled and yanked her over to the computer to see this beautiful shit-jalopy waiting for us on eBay.
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I just wanted to send out a big "fuck you" to my old 100 dollar best friend Adam Ostrofsky. Sometimes when a guy sends you 100 bucks, you think you'll be best friends forever. But then Sam Wise sends you 200 dollars and you realize that friendship isn't just about money. It's about who sends you the most money. And that person is my best friend Sam Wise. Sam is a great best friend because he lives in Florida at the beach. That way, when I'm all washed up and broke, living off government programs and huffing Glade for happy hour, I can go stay in splendor with Sam so he can groom me and put salve on my sores and hold me when I get the shakes.
I still have fond memories of Adam - like the time he gave me 100 bucks or that other time where I spent his 100 bucks - but I think Sam and I have brought friendship to a different level altogether. And if he should ever be outbid as my best friend, I will still come to his house when I'm busted and on the street. I'll ring his doorbell, walk in, take a shit in his upstairs bath and leave without flushing or saying a word.
Anyone who buys me the bright orange Pinto wagon and delivers it to me from Princeton, Indiana will be my new best friend forever and I'll throw in a complimentary hand job from Mother. There's only a few hours left.
stanhope
Sunday, June 29, 2003 at 11:37AM 