Hot City Diary: Day 275

Too weak.  I'm blind in my left eye and things aren't looking good for the other.  I've long since abandoned the sofa fort and left it to the hordes of fire ants and their dirt empire.  I will now make my stand under the patio table.  It's teak, and so it feels like a ship. 

Discarded wings and husks of beetles are all that's left.  Things may sound bleak but I keep seeing something at the bottom of the pool but it's yet to bite that hook that I've left dangling for it.  I'm sure I'll pull up something soon.

I'm not sure if I ate my dog or if she ran away, but she's been gone for quite some time now.  Certainly I would have some of her bones laying around if I ate her and there are none.  Maybe she went for help.

I killed the champion of the lizards two days ago and I'll kill more if they come back.  Vanquished from my back yard.  I figured out that the fire pit was their beacon and now that it's destroyed, they can't receive anymore signals from the mother ship.  I'm sure they'll send down a scout, but I'm not afraid of them anymore....

Time seems to have taken on a new meaning.  It's probably that I'm just crazy and time is different for crazy people.  It's not linear.  It jumps all over the place.  

There are sounds at night, but I ignore them and the images in my head never materialize.  The day comes and it's blistering, again.  Temps in the 100s and the inflatables have melted a little bit on the tops.  I don't dare step into the sunlight; or maybe I should.  Step into the light.  That's the last thing to do or not to do, step into the light, or remain in the shadows.  I don't want to step into the light.  I'm not ready to step into the light.  I'm not ready for the last thing to do or not to do.

I've got to get out of here.

The first clear thought in a long time.  I've got to get out of here.

I get up from under the table and need to take some time to stand up.  I haven't stood up in a really long time.  Head feels light.  I sturdy myself against my trusty ship and look with my one good eye over at the neighbors fence.  I can climb over that.  There are some Eucalyptus bushes on the other side and they don't make a good cushion but I fall into them anyways and they kinda break my fall.  

I'm in the neighbors back yard.  I look around and see no one.  It's all gravel with some iron statues set out.  An iron coyote glares at me.  I ignore it's stare and make my way to the back door, and look/fall into it.  I bounce off the window and the sound reverberates around me.  I pull on the door and it's locked.  My knock turns into a rapid banging and then tappers off into a tippity tip tap.  Nobody is home.  Or at least they are waiting for the police to arrive to come out and see what I want.

I lay under the patio on a lounger for a long enough period of time that I realize the police aren't coming.  There must be no one home.  If I can get inside and get some food and some water, then things are gonna be okay.  Then I can plot the next steps to get out of here.  Maybe I'll even use their air conditioning.

I wait until it's dark and grab that damn coyote.  I wait until the low rider with some boom tubes and a tricked out muffler comes down the street and that's when I throw the coyote through the back door.

BOOM.  BOOM BOOM.  BOOM.  CRASH.  BOOM. BOOM BOOM. BOOM.

Hot City Diary: Day 250

The cold air at night is relieving some pressure.  Allows me to think clearly.

The doves don't come around anymore.  I killed about 12 of them last week.  The rats aren't as smart.  I catch about 2 of those a day.

For snacks I've been living on the flowers and bugs for quite some time now.  There is still water coming from the pipe but who knows for how long.  I have stored quite a bit in some large jugs.

I'll be okay.

I can't write much, the lizards know when I send out these transmissions.

I'm safer outside in the sofa fort.

Hot City Diary: Day 240

Dead flies mixed in with all the lint and dog hair line the walls.  The dog food is gone.

It's still too hot but it was actually cold last night.  It might have been 79.  The headaches aren't happening as much but I'm seriously fried.  I'll need some time in the snow for a couple years, after this.  There are short stints where things make sense and those are the times I'll try to get out of here.

I have made a nice little camp outside where it is much cooler.  It's made out of the living room and dining room furniture.  Most of the stuff my wife bought.  There is a fire pit to boil water and grasshoppers and rats and whatever else wanders into my backyard. I found my BB gun and I can shoot birds out of the trees and off the wires.  There are more than enough doves to keep me going for a while.

Hot City Diaries: Day 113 Day of The Dead

Luisa is dead.  He was 35.  He had a heart attack.  He said he was feeling ill so he went home and we all laughed and laughed and said he's not sick, he's going to mucho mucho fiesta tonight.

Then he died 2 hours later at his home.

Somebody leave a comment

Is this blog still being hit up for nudie pix or is anyone following Hot City Diaries, because it really hasn't caught on with more than 25 people. Which I'm stoked on! So, I'd like to hear from you.


I'm gonna go and then come back and I want a comment.

Hot City Diary: Day 61

Rikki is the new night security guard and I'm the new night auditor.  It seems as if we are going to get along swimmingly.  We're both brand spanking new. He smiles. I like Rikki, he's built like a running back but must be pushing mid 50s.  He likes to talk about how stupid people are and how his Mama raised him right.

    He comes in after helping a couple find their sunglasses on their head.  He talks about Virginia in the 1970s and how it was a time of excitement.  His Mama was quick with the switch and would sit him down and explain how if it didn't make sense, then there was no sense in doing it.  She wants Rikki to be sensible.

   There's a call about a fight over the radio.

    He moves off like a well oiled tank.  The fight is between the people running Karaoke and a patron.  He comes back in a few minutes and doesn't mention what happened in the lounge.

   He wants to talk about him and his buddies in a bar in Virginia and how he knew everyone and sometimes some out of towner would pick a fight with his friends and he would go sort it out.  He get's the fists to come down and get's everyone talking and figures out the fight was over a girl and then the girl wasn't even the girl he thought she was, and he went over to the girl and got her involved and after he straightened out the entire situation he told him to take off or he would get the bouncers, who were his friends, to throw him out.  And the guy left.

He will tell this story every night from now on.  He also likes to roll his eyes when he talks about something he considers ridiculous.  He's constantly rolling his eyes.

Another call comes in and he's off again.  Tank tracks moving with precision and force.  He must be about 5 feet tall and 300 lbs.

Go Rikki Go.

Hot City Diary: Day 67

Peeling myself off the couch.  It's hot and the pool of sweat that I'm laying in also works as an adhesive with the faux leather couch.

I get up only to get light headed and sit right back down.

It's too hot to do anything.  Gahhhhhhhhhhhh.

I just lay back down and listen to the sound of the fans and television and start to doze off.

I'm in a hunting lodge in Alaska.  There's all kinds of people milling about and I introduce myself to some and pour drinks for others and sit down and talk with some more until we all decide to go outside.

Somebody opens the lodges front doors and a wicked wind  blows some snow inside and blows out some lanterns.  I grab a hold of my gun and make my way out into the cold great wide open.  Nobody follows me.  It's just me and my dog and once I'm outside they close the door.  I'm sure they'll let me back in if I knock, it's my dream, but I decide to wander around outside.

Soon I'm surrounded by a million trees.  Covered in snow.  My dog and I walk around them and over fallen trees and into the woods.  Our feet stomping thru the snowpacks and my dog chases a bunny rabbit and now we are running thru the woods and kicking through the snow and find ourselves in a big open field.

It must be a lake during the hotter months, but now it's frozen solid.  I dig through the snow and find the top layer of ice and clean the snow away so I can see the surface.  I'm looking at something in the ice.  It's a scene that's playing out on a television.  I try to look closer.  It's people walking around in a snowy wonderland on a television.

That's when I wake up on the couch with my favorite television show on.   I try to get up off the couch but I'm too weak.  I just lay there and come in and out of these dreams and watch TV.

Hot City Diary: Day 77

Michelle skips to the front desk and tells me she hates her husband and wants to get a room.  She's re-doing her home in the area, and she's got a lot of money; so she says, and she just can't stand her husband tonight so she needs to get away.  Of course this all comes out in a drunken slur and I realize she is really drunk after she gallops like a pony out of the lobby once I tell her the price of the room.

She comes back about ten minutes later with a Mai Tai and puts her purse on the counter and tells me to find whatever  I need to charge her for the room.

She stands there and tells me how adorable I am and grabs for my face.  At first I avoid her grabbing for me but soon I stop dodging her advances so I can concentrate on her reservation and find myself getting a face massage.  Fantastic.

The bartender comes in and tells me she never paid for the Mai Tai and she hands him a ring.  He smiles and walks off.

After a few minutes of listening to Michelle whisper and slur a conversation she's been having for quite some time with herself, I'm ready to swipe her credit card and issue her keys but I find her credit card went bad in 2012.  When I tell her this she picks up her Mai Tai and runs off out the front door, leaving her purse and some other patrons wondering whats with the drunk housewife?

I continue my paperwork and put her purse aside and she comes back in ten minutes with another purse and tells me she can't find anything.  She dumps most of the contents on the counter and reminds me that she owns the hotel.

I find an American Express amid the receipts and power bar wrappers.  There's also a lot of makeup.

I run the card and it works and she finds a twenty dollar bill and gives it to me, and grabs the keys and a map and winks and gallops back out the door.

I continue my paperwork and in no more than thirty seconds I'm assaulted by some passive aggressive drunk that wants to talk about his great uncles hat he is wearing and then scream about the bad service in the restaurant, all the while standing too close.  I call security and they stand between us and tell him to go away.  He doesn't go away initially.  He wants to know why he has to go away and we tell him that the bar is closed and he has to go to his room or go home.  He doesn't have any shoes on and we find out he's just some guy that lives next door.  Whether it's the meth camp or the new condos is anyone's guess.  Finally he goes away after asking "Why?" at least 50 times.

Then Michelle comes back and tells me she can't find her room.  Security walks her over there.

I continue my paperwork.

The bar starts to close and one of the last songs is A$AP Rocky with Fuckin' Problems, it's just the hook, over and over, and it seems like that's the theme tonight.  Fuckin' Problems.

I continue my paperwork.

The phone rings and a guest tells me that some woman is in her room and she is telling everyone to get out because the hotel belongs to her and every room belongs to her, no matter what.  You try paying insurance on this bitch for one month, see you do that, she says loud enough so that I can hear her over the phone.  I ask if it's a tall blonde, and the guest tells me that her name is Michelle.  I send security over to take Michelle back to her room.

The passive aggressive drunk comes back and says he's sorry and wants to shake hands.  When I refuse to shake hands he get's upset again and starts yelling and wants my managers business cards.  I give it to him and call security back to kick him out again and he wants to shake the security guards hand now.  He finally leaves after he realizes no one will shake hands.  He screams "Sorry!" in a horribly mean voice and leaves.

I continue my paperwork and the sun slowly illuminates the valley outside my glass box.

Hot City Diary: Day 43

The dog doesn't like the heat.  It's makes us all lazy and slow.

Gosh.

I need something to drink.  I lick my lips and wander into the kitchen along the large tiles that line the house.  The tile is cool on my feet but the heat seeps into the house through the poorly installed french doors.  They have all kinds of leaks.  Hot air pushing in from all around on my cold little bubble lined with tile.  The air conditioning tries to keep up, but the house is slightly uncomfortable at a balmy 80.

I wander outside and it's over 100.

When did this happen?  It's never been this hot this early in the year, and then I realize that I've moved out to the desert in Riverside.

That's nonstop sunshine with no traffic and beautiful mountain views wherever you look.