More Damn Story
OK, Goddamnit...
She went to the gypsy that morning because she had had a dream. In her dream there had been a gypsy. A classic kinda gypsy, with the colorful head scarves and a tambourine. The gypsy had been dancing and shaking her tambourine and making all sorts of racket, and while she was dancing and making a racket she had been singing a song. The song was haunting, reminded her of a birthday song her crazy aunt used to sing to her when she was little. Something about roses being worth more dead than alive, probably something about thorns, and blood... Happy Birthday, yo!!!
She woke up to her cat attacking her, maybe not so much attacking as much as trying to dig through the blanket to get to the fish she could smell hidden beneath... Stupid cat clawed and clawed, sharp pointies sticking through the blanket and the sheet and straight into her thighs.
She went to slap at the cat but the cat wasn't having any of that, she could smell blood now, so she hissed in the way that cats have a habit of doing. So she used her pillow, all balled up, to WHOMP the cat off the bed and into the corner... Lucky for her the cat was dazed from the shot. That was the extent of her luck for the day.
She took a shower, but really didn't do any of what most people would call "hygiene". She just kinda stood there and randomly turned in the water. Water ran here and there, kinda, but didn't really make it into the crevices that really needed it. Her bush overflowed, like a rainforrest... and like a rainforrest most of the rain was deflected by the outter strata, never really making it to the forrest floor, well, maybe it was a little damp, but not a cleansing rain, you dig... End result was that it was damp and humid and ripe for the intrigue of rot... Stank, you dig...
Pat pat pat went the towel when she got out of the shower, pat pat pat.
She had meant to think about her dream when she got in the shower, but all she really did was breath, and breathing precludes thinking... But she remembered now, a little something something, about a gypsy. She wondered where she could find a gypsy so she could ask her what it all meant.
She went about her day. She got dressed, stuffed her bra, scratched her thighs (she had little red holes where the cats claws had been, and pimples, on her thighs).
She ate some spinach dip on an english muffin.
She checked her AOL account.
She cleaned out the litter box, but the scooped crap into a plastic bag and put the bag by the door, with the other bags of poop by the door that she would try to remember to take down later, but wouldn't...
She went out on her porch and saw into the neighbors back yard. The neighbor was burning leaves and tires and misc other stuff and a thick cloud of black noxious smoke was rising from the pile.
She smacked her lips and decided to go to Starbucks for coffee (see, see, nasty thick noxious burn smell reminded her of Starbucks)...
She got in her car and drove on down the road, down down down the road. She went to the Starbucks and got some crappy coffee, yummm. She went outside to drink her coffee cause everyone was looking at her funny. Next to Starbucks there was a movie store, next to the movie store was the gypsy store.
Ahhh...
She picked a bad time to go walking into the Gypsies shop. The gypsy was not in the mood for any crap today.
1) Did I mention that she was a redhead and thus CRAZY
2) She was a gypsy, duh
3) She had hooked up at the lesbian bar last night, with another redhead, and sparks had flown (flewn? flied?)
4) She bruised easily and her nipples were sore and ringed with dark bruises from #3 (but it hurt in a good way, you know, like, YEAH!!)
5) Business was bad, people just didn't believe in gypsies any more and she could feel herself fading away. Being a gypsy was all she knew, what would she do if people stopped believing?
She walked in and looked around the shop, it was nice, smelled nice (for the moment)...
The receptionist stared at her like receptionists do when they are not actively ignoring you. Pretended to check the appointment book to see if there was an oppening. Of course there was. So she went through the curtain indicated by the receptionist with a tilt of her head.
She sat down at the table with the gypsy. They sat in silence, looking at each other. They were opposites, these two. As she sat there her mouth started to open and the gypsy began to tense up. Her sphincter loosened up and the gypsy scrunched up into a tight little fist... and they just stared at each other.
Gypsy: What the fuck?
Her: Uhhh...
Gypsy: I mean, really.. What the fuck?
Her: Oh, I had this dream last night, and there was a gypsy and she sang this song and it reminded me of this song that my aunt used to sing to me on my birthday. My aunt was crazy.
Gypsy: OK
Her: ...
Gypsy: So... and???
Her: Well, it really freaked me out, you know.
Gypsy: OK...
Gypsy: Now, I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to think about it, because I am not going to just sit here, with you... OK, so, tell me, what the fuck do you want.
Her: Oh, I was going to ask you, what does it all mean?
Gypsy: What does what all mean?
Her: The dream
Gypsy: The dream? What does the dream mean?
Her: Yeah.
Gypsy: It means your aunt used to sing a song to you on your birthday and you didn't really know what to make of her or the song so you somehow added a few random details on to her. You made her a gypsy. Dreams are really just random shit that pops into our heads when we are free from the restrictions of cognative thought. They really don't mean anything... for real.
Her: Oh. But what is it all about.
Gypsy: ?!?!
Her: I mean, really, what does IT all mean?
Gypsy: What does was all mean?
Her: IT!!!
Gypsy: The dream???
Her: Uhh... No... I mean, whats it all about?
Gypsy: What? The DREAM?!?
Her: Well, yeah, that, and stuff, you know, all of it.
Gypsy: I don't know what the hell you are talking about. But if I had to look into the future, if that is what you are asking me, I would have to say that you are about this close to taking a long and painful trip...
Her: REALLY?!?! Where am I going...
Gypsy: ..to HELL, TO HELL!!! Get out of here and GO TO HELL!!!
There was some serious tension in the room at this point. She could tell that the gypsy was having a bad day, but she was thankful that she was able to take the time to tell her what her dream meant. Although she really didn't understand it... But that is the way it is with gypsies, they don't give you everything, just enough for you to figure it out for yourself. It was an like a pun or something. She liked puns. She would try to figure it out on her own.
Blah, blah, blah, she went to the ocean or something, saw a flower over the edge of the cliff, tried to pick it, started falling, continued falling, etc., etc., etc...
She went to the gypsy that morning because she had had a dream. In her dream there had been a gypsy. A classic kinda gypsy, with the colorful head scarves and a tambourine. The gypsy had been dancing and shaking her tambourine and making all sorts of racket, and while she was dancing and making a racket she had been singing a song. The song was haunting, reminded her of a birthday song her crazy aunt used to sing to her when she was little. Something about roses being worth more dead than alive, probably something about thorns, and blood... Happy Birthday, yo!!!
She woke up to her cat attacking her, maybe not so much attacking as much as trying to dig through the blanket to get to the fish she could smell hidden beneath... Stupid cat clawed and clawed, sharp pointies sticking through the blanket and the sheet and straight into her thighs.
She went to slap at the cat but the cat wasn't having any of that, she could smell blood now, so she hissed in the way that cats have a habit of doing. So she used her pillow, all balled up, to WHOMP the cat off the bed and into the corner... Lucky for her the cat was dazed from the shot. That was the extent of her luck for the day.
She took a shower, but really didn't do any of what most people would call "hygiene". She just kinda stood there and randomly turned in the water. Water ran here and there, kinda, but didn't really make it into the crevices that really needed it. Her bush overflowed, like a rainforrest... and like a rainforrest most of the rain was deflected by the outter strata, never really making it to the forrest floor, well, maybe it was a little damp, but not a cleansing rain, you dig... End result was that it was damp and humid and ripe for the intrigue of rot... Stank, you dig...
Pat pat pat went the towel when she got out of the shower, pat pat pat.
She had meant to think about her dream when she got in the shower, but all she really did was breath, and breathing precludes thinking... But she remembered now, a little something something, about a gypsy. She wondered where she could find a gypsy so she could ask her what it all meant.
She went about her day. She got dressed, stuffed her bra, scratched her thighs (she had little red holes where the cats claws had been, and pimples, on her thighs).
She ate some spinach dip on an english muffin.
She checked her AOL account.
She cleaned out the litter box, but the scooped crap into a plastic bag and put the bag by the door, with the other bags of poop by the door that she would try to remember to take down later, but wouldn't...
She went out on her porch and saw into the neighbors back yard. The neighbor was burning leaves and tires and misc other stuff and a thick cloud of black noxious smoke was rising from the pile.
She smacked her lips and decided to go to Starbucks for coffee (see, see, nasty thick noxious burn smell reminded her of Starbucks)...
She got in her car and drove on down the road, down down down the road. She went to the Starbucks and got some crappy coffee, yummm. She went outside to drink her coffee cause everyone was looking at her funny. Next to Starbucks there was a movie store, next to the movie store was the gypsy store.
Ahhh...
She picked a bad time to go walking into the Gypsies shop. The gypsy was not in the mood for any crap today.
1) Did I mention that she was a redhead and thus CRAZY
2) She was a gypsy, duh
3) She had hooked up at the lesbian bar last night, with another redhead, and sparks had flown (flewn? flied?)
4) She bruised easily and her nipples were sore and ringed with dark bruises from #3 (but it hurt in a good way, you know, like, YEAH!!)
5) Business was bad, people just didn't believe in gypsies any more and she could feel herself fading away. Being a gypsy was all she knew, what would she do if people stopped believing?
She walked in and looked around the shop, it was nice, smelled nice (for the moment)...
The receptionist stared at her like receptionists do when they are not actively ignoring you. Pretended to check the appointment book to see if there was an oppening. Of course there was. So she went through the curtain indicated by the receptionist with a tilt of her head.
She sat down at the table with the gypsy. They sat in silence, looking at each other. They were opposites, these two. As she sat there her mouth started to open and the gypsy began to tense up. Her sphincter loosened up and the gypsy scrunched up into a tight little fist... and they just stared at each other.
Gypsy: What the fuck?
Her: Uhhh...
Gypsy: I mean, really.. What the fuck?
Her: Oh, I had this dream last night, and there was a gypsy and she sang this song and it reminded me of this song that my aunt used to sing to me on my birthday. My aunt was crazy.
Gypsy: OK
Her: ...
Gypsy: So... and???
Her: Well, it really freaked me out, you know.
Gypsy: OK...
Gypsy: Now, I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to think about it, because I am not going to just sit here, with you... OK, so, tell me, what the fuck do you want.
Her: Oh, I was going to ask you, what does it all mean?
Gypsy: What does what all mean?
Her: The dream
Gypsy: The dream? What does the dream mean?
Her: Yeah.
Gypsy: It means your aunt used to sing a song to you on your birthday and you didn't really know what to make of her or the song so you somehow added a few random details on to her. You made her a gypsy. Dreams are really just random shit that pops into our heads when we are free from the restrictions of cognative thought. They really don't mean anything... for real.
Her: Oh. But what is it all about.
Gypsy: ?!?!
Her: I mean, really, what does IT all mean?
Gypsy: What does was all mean?
Her: IT!!!
Gypsy: The dream???
Her: Uhh... No... I mean, whats it all about?
Gypsy: What? The DREAM?!?
Her: Well, yeah, that, and stuff, you know, all of it.
Gypsy: I don't know what the hell you are talking about. But if I had to look into the future, if that is what you are asking me, I would have to say that you are about this close to taking a long and painful trip...
Her: REALLY?!?! Where am I going...
Gypsy: ..to HELL, TO HELL!!! Get out of here and GO TO HELL!!!
There was some serious tension in the room at this point. She could tell that the gypsy was having a bad day, but she was thankful that she was able to take the time to tell her what her dream meant. Although she really didn't understand it... But that is the way it is with gypsies, they don't give you everything, just enough for you to figure it out for yourself. It was an like a pun or something. She liked puns. She would try to figure it out on her own.
Blah, blah, blah, she went to the ocean or something, saw a flower over the edge of the cliff, tried to pick it, started falling, continued falling, etc., etc., etc...
Labels: down down down, story
posted by Catfish at 12:34 PM
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