Saturday, July 12, 2014

Nobody Thinks That I Will Actually Travel

Thursday night, into Friday morning, I was right here on this laptop, doing everything from my little Facebook "Friend Vote Off" game, which I invented, to God knows what.
The sun actually came up on me; as I sat here using the wi-fi outside PJ's Coffee and, by the time I got to the dock it was heavily secured with people, who all seemed to know that I was the guy seen coming out from under it. They had just never seen me go under.
I worked a bit on an audio file, by the topside of the dock, as a guy sat in plain view, who had taken up that post as soon as I neared the dock, sitting as he was in a chair on the lowest deck of the boat; from which would be seen my ducking under it.
I was faced with the fact that it was Friday morning, and I had not gotten to sleep at my "accustomed" time of about 3 p.m.; and if I was going to sleep, then it would have to be at the sign spot.

The Sign Spot, In
Better Days...
And, it would have to be in the heat, un-buffeted by the dock.
When I had gone into Uniques at about 9 in the morning, on my way to the sign spot; some skeezer told me that I smelled. I almost wanted to pull out my wad of money and say; "Yeah, a guy works up a sweat making this kind of money!" but I refrained from doing so, mostly because I didn't have a wad of money.
I ran into a young guy who had given me a book by Samuel Beckett ("Waiting For Godot") right before leaving my wi-fi spot.
I started to read "Texts About Nothing," in an attempt to become sleepy. I determined that Samuel Beckett was an absolutely worthless writer. I read his stuff out loud, sitting there by the sign; and punctuated his prose with "Really?" "Are you serious?" and other ejaculations in response to what I was reading. I found him to be impossibly contradictory. He would say "It was ingenious; but, no... it was actually stupid..." and stuff like that. I wondered if it was just due to the age in which his stuff was published; that he actually ever saw print.
I slept a bit, but not much.
Where I have domestic tranquility, replete with the comforts of a 5 foot alligator, a night heron, a few spiders, a turtle and perhaps 31 rats, under the dock; at the sign spot, I had the horror of ants and a few flies.
I can sleep through all of that, if I set my mind to it; I can block out flies landing upon my skin; but...I think I have become spoiled.
It is through some miracle that I got any sleep at all; and enough of it to make me think that I could go out and busk. It was Friday night, after all.
I procrastinated....severely.
I was at Tanya and Dorise' spot at about 10 p.m.
I was flat broke.
I re-borrowed the 5 bucks which I had paid back to Dorise, which she hadn't remembered lending me.
I listened to a couple of songs before that. They are playing very well; and have really seemed to have taken up the general challenge of playing anything requested; with Dorise pulling up an application on her phone which is essentially a fake book; and Tanya just playing the melody out of her head.
I can't help but think that Tanya is like those people who can solve a Rubiks Cube in 17.8 seconds; but she can just do it musically.
I borrowed the 5 dollars back, as I chatted with Dorise; while a crowd of about 40 encircled them; to include skeezers who have long been conditioned to just not ask the girls for money. They are like Royalty on Royal Street; and, if they started lending money; then; look out; every skeezer in kingdom come would...well; the reader gets the point...
I really felt kind of privileged; to have exchanged quiet words with Dorise and to have seen, in front of the whole group of tourists; and the hangers on, who want to be there to make the girls feel more secure or to offer services such as watching their stuff when they take a break; or the ones who just want to avail themselves of a pretty darned good free concert on the street; to have borrowed 5 bucks right out of their basket.
Then, I went to Rouses Market and was able to trade a food item for a beer and etc....
It was a pretty good night; I am playing well, but not as good as when sober.
I have gotten some good information about traveling and am psyched to do so.....but; that is like the boy who cried "wolf," nobody thinks I will actually travel.....

1 comment:

alex carter said...

I mentioned before that you could do well making yourself handy to Tanya and Dorise, like be their "bottler"; the guy who carries the hat around and makes sure the crowd isn't stingy, or who helps them set up and break down, or who adds in a bit of something cute like washboard, or a combination of these types of tasks.