четверг, 7 ноября 2013 г.
But no time to eat cuz I m click-clacking the beat with my friend Jimmy. He s kind of a famous a roc
I really want some smoked brisket miami american airlines arena on the stroll. miami american airlines arena Some soul watering pulled pork tacos, BBQ beef sandwich, a Frito pie from Stubb s, meat sticks on the street corners, deep fried skins with melted cheese miami american airlines arena and chili, grilled stuff from the food trucks. miami american airlines arena Wide eyes, it s my first time in the presence of genuine southern BBQ.
But no time to eat cuz I m click-clacking the beat with my friend Jimmy. He s kind of a famous a rock star , tall like me taller even devilishly handsome with a Manic Panic red bouffant and a tight-leopard print, bon-bon Paul Bunyan vibe.
We arrive at this dust-caked drive-in movie theater venue where we re shuttled backstage. Street style bloggers take our picture miami american airlines arena and ask what we re wearing, make us smooch for the camera. Front of the line, side of the stage, comps, stamps, wristbands, red faces, green rooms I feel famous : a moll, a basketball wife, a girl next door. After the show he has some real photoshoots and interviews to get to, so we exchange numbers and let s hang out later ? I feel the nipping giddiness, but past-Jimmy-precedent has taught me the value of managing miami american airlines arena my expectations. Giving into excitement feels like a set-up.
We met last year when I interviewed him for this homo culture mag CROTCH. We d talked about the importance of pop hooks while hungry fans snapped photos and his manager bought us whiskey cokes. He d said his father was a preacher in a small town and I d confided that my dad was the chairman of an Indian reservation, so we d both lived these weird public lives in rural communities where our gayness had the safety net of a well-respected, supportive core. Not a broad acceptance, but sort of free to be queeny at home, at least.
Like an idiot I fell the fuck in love with this guy. A touring musician . From out of town . He was living city to city; his world growing, getting more exciting he was doing exactly what he wanted to. I was on the isle of dead end dates with our transcript, moleskin, tape recorder memories. The article I wrote never even went to print, and with Jimmy out of touch, I thought: maybe I d dreamed the whole thing. Maybe I d made it all up? Without consistency, everything seems like fiction. Somewhere, trees don t loose their leaves. Somewhere we get In-n-Out every day, and snow only happens in our imaginations.
The bars are spilling over, so we walk and talk. It s almost last call and groups of sun-pummeled dudes who ve been drinking since noon roam the streets, giving the city a post apocalyptic vibe. They laugh, ask us what the hell are we wearing, are we girls or guys? I get panicky miami american airlines arena but Jimmy is unflappable. He squeezes my hand, brushes away his one rosewater bang, laughs. Isn t this hilarious ? Aren t people so funny ? He tells me that seeing us lifted makes men want to take us down. That this is never going to change, so why wilt? Head up. Shoulders back. Chin strong. Legs out.
He says there s a pool on the roof of his hotel 60 stories, opulent, made of marble miami american airlines arena and silk and flower stalks. It s 3am and I peek over the ledge, hold my breath as Austin unfolds for us: Highway lights, bridge lights, a river, the sky there are so many things . We lay poolside and chit-chat while I nuzzle and swoon, the little spoon.
Tommy Pico is the driving force behind birdsong, an antiracist/queer-positive collective, small press, and zine that publishes art and writing. Originally from the Viejas Indian reservation of the Kumeyaay nation, he now lives in Brooklyn and is working on his first collection of poetry prose as an inaugural fellow of Queer/Art/Mentors.
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