Mrs. Garrison
Rock n' Roll Doggie ALL ACCESS
Sitting at the train tracks in my old beater watching the morning sunrise, like i may have done the day before or the day after. The sun looks bigger at first light, the clouds scatter from the emerging colors which announce the urgency of a new day.
I sit in my old beater, windows cracked to let any smoke or residue out and some welcome fresh air in the cabin. The red lights were no longer blinking at the train tracks. A horn from an impatient motorist catches my attention, along with the low fuel light on my instrument cluster. How long had i been sitting here?
Slowly i ease over the tracks unsure of my destination, just go towards the sun, i think to myself. An address was written on the pizza box in the passenger seat of my car. Perhaps that is where i should go. This sleepy little town knows the weekend better than me. I own nothing therefore i owe nothing. A flock of geese fly overhead into the bright and shiny oblivion as i turn onto my pre-determined street.
Down towards the end of the street i see a large white home in various states of decay. It's a two story affair, probably built in the era when men were men and boys will be boys. In the driveway of the house i see an old nova sitting there on blocks. In front of it is some type of sedan that is a make i don't even recognize. Parked in the front yard (i mean, why the hell not?) is a primer colored truck with black painted wagon style wheels, a roll bar, and an empty gun-rack in the back window.
As i stop in front of the old house i decide to leave my car running in case it doesn't want to start again after i deliver the pizza. I stroll up sidewalk with the pizza in my hand and up the steps to the porch of this old beast of a home. Once on the porch i hear a soft beat coming from inside the house, unrecognizable to my ears, probably because i have cobwebs in my head, or something. I ring the doorbell and take stock of the surroundings on the porch as i wait for my customer to answer. It seems like forever as the beats get louder, i try to spit over the edge of the porch but my mouth is so dry you could ride a camel through it. In fact, i may have pyramids in my eyes, or maybe it really is just that dry.
I ring the doorbell again as i look around the clutter on the front porch of this place someone might call a home. Empty beer cans, trash, cheap plastic chairs, burnt out cigarette butts, a few odd piles of clothes, and probably some other things i don't want to know what they are. Since nobody has answered the door i decide to knock on the door, one solid knock and the old wooden door, with paint peeling off of it as expected, one solid knock and the door opens.
I peer inside the dark and smoky house, everything inside of me is warning me to turn around and get out of this place. But i may have floated up here to this porch anyways, so the curious inside of me pushes me over the threshold. Like a cloud over the valley not afraid of it's new deep shadow, i push onward into the darkness. The beat becomes louder and the smell isn't intoxicating as i would have hoped. It's fucking vile. Like a dead man walking i press on into the trashed out home.
I have heard these sounds before and i have smelled these obscene odors before. I just don't remember where...though i think i may have just stepped on something alive...because it moved underneath me.
At the end of the room i am currently in i see a light flicker a bit and then come on. It looks like it might be a kitchen or maybe a dining room. I call out "Hello...Pizza delivery" to nobody in particular. One foot in front of the other i cautiously head towards the hazy light. I can't decide if these people are hoarders, drug dealers, serial killers, or if i am still sitting in my car hallucinating back at the train tracks.
Life was simple when the cheese melted and the little round sausages floated above the sea of red floating on a foundation of grains. Not just simple but outrageously terrific.
A shadow passes in the light ahead. Around the corner i hear something other than the repetitive beats. It is entirely possible that someone or something is waiting around this corner, ready to kill me. I don't even care at this point, i just need to make this last delivery and then i can go home.
I remember the train but i never saw the caboose. I remember riding a bicycle with training wheels when i was a kid, then i got older and the wheels came off, as they often do, and those places we wanted to go were much farther away. I'm not afraid of anything anymore, but that does not explain why the pizza box im carrying is shaking so hard. Must be withdrawls......
I hear some kitchen noises coming from the kitchen, perhaps its glasses and silverware coming out of the cabinets in preparation of the meal i am to bring?
Finally into the light i step to create a shadow. There better be one hell of a tip involved in this, i think to myself.
In the kitchen i see them, standing naked in a circle, there must be six of them, maybe seven, holding hands, men and women, though mostly men. They are all naked, save for gas masks over their heads. They were standing in a circle until they see me enter their space. Then they all turn to face me, one by one, all of them looking at me through military spec goggles which orbit the apparatus on the face and head. I can hear them breath in and breath out through filters and vents. I can't see their eyes but i know they are looking at me.
One of them, perhaps the leader, has a worn out straw cowboy hat on top of his head. He walks a few steps ahead of the pack, and then stops. He speaks very direct and asks me what i am doing here. I must admit, at this point i am afraid. There is a kitchen table next to me that is covered in garbage, beer cans, drugs, and newspapers.
"You...um...your pizza...large meat with extra....ill just leave it right here.....extra cheese!" That's all i could say.
The leader takes another step forward and then pauses for a moment, cocks his head to one side like a confused puppy, and then looks back to his companions. He then turns back towards me and states evenly, albeit his voice modified through filters and chambers, "we ordered that pizza yesterday"
I notice the tattoos on his arm and the veins sticking out near his elbows and wrists. This is not a guy i want to argue with at this moment. I sit the pizza down on the table and take a step backwards. It's on the house..yeah...it has to be at this point. I think i have heard this music before. In fact i think this place is starting to look familiar, perhaps i have been here before?
No need to tip me, i think to myself. I waged war and had to go through hell on earth to get to this place, but no, im okay, just get me out of here. I take a nice long look at the naked people in front of me. Their gas masks on their heads, boy and girl parts down below in all of their glory, and i turn and bolt towards the door.
I escape the smoky den out onto the front porch and i am shocked to see the moon is up next to the sun and the day seems to have faded since in was last outside. I make it to my old beater car and realize my keys are in the ignition and the door is locked. The car is no longer running, presumably because it has ran out of gas.
I reach into my pockets desperately searching for something, money, no i don't really want that. Pills, no i don't need those right now. Mary Jane...no....not yet. I find my old phone and i see the red light blinking at me with exclamation diodes. My eyes are red enough anyway, so i push a few buttons to see who has been trying to reach me. Several texts, emails, etc. One from my boss screams out to me "WHERE ARE YOU?" I start to reply back when i see this is not the latest message from him. Flipping through several more messages i see the final one from him which says, quite simply, "YOU ARE FIRED!"
Damn, i think, there went my whole entire life down the tubes right there. In a moment of parts rage and parts relief, i kick the side of my beater until a smile forms on my stony face. Then a bigger smile forms across my universe as i let out a mad scream and do my best karate-kid impersonation, somehow managing to kick the still lit pizza delivery sign off of the top of the car. It flies off of the roof of the car and lands on the street, cracked and no longer lit.
As i look back towards the old house, i see one of the naked females standing in the doorway, watching me from behind her gas mask. I can feel her soul beckoning me though i can't really feel much else. Freedom must be a lot like getting naked in a house full of people with gas masks on their heads, which is the only logical conclusion i could draw from this.
Under the sunlight and moonlight, apparently both sharing the same faded space, i turn and go back towards the old beat up house. I do the honorable thing and strip off all of my clothes and leave them in a pile on the porch. The girl in the doorway has a spare gas mask in her hands and she extends it towards me.
I sit in my old beater, windows cracked to let any smoke or residue out and some welcome fresh air in the cabin. The red lights were no longer blinking at the train tracks. A horn from an impatient motorist catches my attention, along with the low fuel light on my instrument cluster. How long had i been sitting here?
Slowly i ease over the tracks unsure of my destination, just go towards the sun, i think to myself. An address was written on the pizza box in the passenger seat of my car. Perhaps that is where i should go. This sleepy little town knows the weekend better than me. I own nothing therefore i owe nothing. A flock of geese fly overhead into the bright and shiny oblivion as i turn onto my pre-determined street.
Down towards the end of the street i see a large white home in various states of decay. It's a two story affair, probably built in the era when men were men and boys will be boys. In the driveway of the house i see an old nova sitting there on blocks. In front of it is some type of sedan that is a make i don't even recognize. Parked in the front yard (i mean, why the hell not?) is a primer colored truck with black painted wagon style wheels, a roll bar, and an empty gun-rack in the back window.
As i stop in front of the old house i decide to leave my car running in case it doesn't want to start again after i deliver the pizza. I stroll up sidewalk with the pizza in my hand and up the steps to the porch of this old beast of a home. Once on the porch i hear a soft beat coming from inside the house, unrecognizable to my ears, probably because i have cobwebs in my head, or something. I ring the doorbell and take stock of the surroundings on the porch as i wait for my customer to answer. It seems like forever as the beats get louder, i try to spit over the edge of the porch but my mouth is so dry you could ride a camel through it. In fact, i may have pyramids in my eyes, or maybe it really is just that dry.
I ring the doorbell again as i look around the clutter on the front porch of this place someone might call a home. Empty beer cans, trash, cheap plastic chairs, burnt out cigarette butts, a few odd piles of clothes, and probably some other things i don't want to know what they are. Since nobody has answered the door i decide to knock on the door, one solid knock and the old wooden door, with paint peeling off of it as expected, one solid knock and the door opens.
I peer inside the dark and smoky house, everything inside of me is warning me to turn around and get out of this place. But i may have floated up here to this porch anyways, so the curious inside of me pushes me over the threshold. Like a cloud over the valley not afraid of it's new deep shadow, i push onward into the darkness. The beat becomes louder and the smell isn't intoxicating as i would have hoped. It's fucking vile. Like a dead man walking i press on into the trashed out home.
I have heard these sounds before and i have smelled these obscene odors before. I just don't remember where...though i think i may have just stepped on something alive...because it moved underneath me.
At the end of the room i am currently in i see a light flicker a bit and then come on. It looks like it might be a kitchen or maybe a dining room. I call out "Hello...Pizza delivery" to nobody in particular. One foot in front of the other i cautiously head towards the hazy light. I can't decide if these people are hoarders, drug dealers, serial killers, or if i am still sitting in my car hallucinating back at the train tracks.
Life was simple when the cheese melted and the little round sausages floated above the sea of red floating on a foundation of grains. Not just simple but outrageously terrific.
A shadow passes in the light ahead. Around the corner i hear something other than the repetitive beats. It is entirely possible that someone or something is waiting around this corner, ready to kill me. I don't even care at this point, i just need to make this last delivery and then i can go home.
I remember the train but i never saw the caboose. I remember riding a bicycle with training wheels when i was a kid, then i got older and the wheels came off, as they often do, and those places we wanted to go were much farther away. I'm not afraid of anything anymore, but that does not explain why the pizza box im carrying is shaking so hard. Must be withdrawls......
I hear some kitchen noises coming from the kitchen, perhaps its glasses and silverware coming out of the cabinets in preparation of the meal i am to bring?
Finally into the light i step to create a shadow. There better be one hell of a tip involved in this, i think to myself.
In the kitchen i see them, standing naked in a circle, there must be six of them, maybe seven, holding hands, men and women, though mostly men. They are all naked, save for gas masks over their heads. They were standing in a circle until they see me enter their space. Then they all turn to face me, one by one, all of them looking at me through military spec goggles which orbit the apparatus on the face and head. I can hear them breath in and breath out through filters and vents. I can't see their eyes but i know they are looking at me.
One of them, perhaps the leader, has a worn out straw cowboy hat on top of his head. He walks a few steps ahead of the pack, and then stops. He speaks very direct and asks me what i am doing here. I must admit, at this point i am afraid. There is a kitchen table next to me that is covered in garbage, beer cans, drugs, and newspapers.
"You...um...your pizza...large meat with extra....ill just leave it right here.....extra cheese!" That's all i could say.
The leader takes another step forward and then pauses for a moment, cocks his head to one side like a confused puppy, and then looks back to his companions. He then turns back towards me and states evenly, albeit his voice modified through filters and chambers, "we ordered that pizza yesterday"
I notice the tattoos on his arm and the veins sticking out near his elbows and wrists. This is not a guy i want to argue with at this moment. I sit the pizza down on the table and take a step backwards. It's on the house..yeah...it has to be at this point. I think i have heard this music before. In fact i think this place is starting to look familiar, perhaps i have been here before?
No need to tip me, i think to myself. I waged war and had to go through hell on earth to get to this place, but no, im okay, just get me out of here. I take a nice long look at the naked people in front of me. Their gas masks on their heads, boy and girl parts down below in all of their glory, and i turn and bolt towards the door.
I escape the smoky den out onto the front porch and i am shocked to see the moon is up next to the sun and the day seems to have faded since in was last outside. I make it to my old beater car and realize my keys are in the ignition and the door is locked. The car is no longer running, presumably because it has ran out of gas.
I reach into my pockets desperately searching for something, money, no i don't really want that. Pills, no i don't need those right now. Mary Jane...no....not yet. I find my old phone and i see the red light blinking at me with exclamation diodes. My eyes are red enough anyway, so i push a few buttons to see who has been trying to reach me. Several texts, emails, etc. One from my boss screams out to me "WHERE ARE YOU?" I start to reply back when i see this is not the latest message from him. Flipping through several more messages i see the final one from him which says, quite simply, "YOU ARE FIRED!"
Damn, i think, there went my whole entire life down the tubes right there. In a moment of parts rage and parts relief, i kick the side of my beater until a smile forms on my stony face. Then a bigger smile forms across my universe as i let out a mad scream and do my best karate-kid impersonation, somehow managing to kick the still lit pizza delivery sign off of the top of the car. It flies off of the roof of the car and lands on the street, cracked and no longer lit.
As i look back towards the old house, i see one of the naked females standing in the doorway, watching me from behind her gas mask. I can feel her soul beckoning me though i can't really feel much else. Freedom must be a lot like getting naked in a house full of people with gas masks on their heads, which is the only logical conclusion i could draw from this.
Under the sunlight and moonlight, apparently both sharing the same faded space, i turn and go back towards the old beat up house. I do the honorable thing and strip off all of my clothes and leave them in a pile on the porch. The girl in the doorway has a spare gas mask in her hands and she extends it towards me.
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