Crazy Psycho Bitch

September 29, 2013

This morn broke in Los Angeles so beautifully clear and warm……

I KNEW I had to motor out to the beach –

the promenade on Ocean Avenue- a bluff overlooking the ocean and with a vista of Malibu – Pacific Palisades (could not envision Nabil swimming nude in his pool – as I knew he was in Palm Springs) down to the Santa Monica Ferris Wheel onto Rolling Hills below

I took my New York Times and the new Paris Review

left at 8:45……to avoid the Triathlon (from Downtown to the beach)…I did not realize that San Vicente in Brentwood had been closed due to a fundraiser for breast cancer….so after driving down my usual side street off of Sunset…the blackened windowed Benz in front ot me ….well she saw the small “Road Closed” sign that was a block above SV…she obviously lived in the area and knew what was going on as she made an immediate U turn…..I did the same and followed like in a spy thriller…except she did not go through red lights…..

she led me to Burlingame….a street that I had never been on – but remembered that a wonderful girl who worked for me in Elizabeth’s Staircase on Sunset….Cathy Aronian….her aunt lived on the street…and Armen Bagdasarian – was I think the sister in law of the writer William Saroyan…and her husband created those almost obnoxious video chipmunks that sing at Christmas –

Armen use to order cases of the room freshener Claire Burke…and Cathy HATED the smell …when asked by a customer to demonstrate it…she would take out a handkerchief and hold it over her nose…it made me wonder why anyone’s house – well comfortable mansion in the posh area of Brentwood …. could smell so badly….

my favorite bench on Ocean – overlooking life on the beach- is off the beaten path – is the BEST …due to its location and view…. there are two angled apart benches….

on one was another man….as I happily sat down in the Magnificence of the day….to read….and to Totally be pleasured by the warm ambiance and READING…….

I opened the Paris Review….just to peruse it….and the first story “God” by Benjamin Nugent

“I had seen his genitals, in the locker room after lacrosse, and they reminded me of a Volvo sedan in that they were unspectacular but shaped so as to imply solidarity and soundness.”

“He threw his arms abound me and Shmash, and Stacks, and the blond hairs on his forearms were short and dry. HIs elbow slid around my neck and it was like rolling on a fresh-mowed August lawn”

It is basically the story of a jock in a Frat house in the South…coming to terms with his sexuality.

As I was reading I noticed a tall slight white woman…walking one of those step on dogs I would never own….she walked by me and then started berating the man on the bench next to me……

and yes the man on the next bench was my cyclist of several years now….he always cycles over and reads his paper with his Starbucks…..every Sunday…we never have talked

she was screaming at him at how he was a pervert and always stalking her…and he just better stop and go and see a doctor……

He was totally taken back…and said “You are the one who needs help…you cock teasing bitch…you are nothing but a cunt..”

I tried to burrow my face further into the NY Times… she stomped off….

there was an older white haired couple in front of us looking down at the beach….they wondered why she had shattered their Sunday tranquillity ….and ambled off in case he might be a crazy …..

After a few minutes ..he got up and talked to me…(we had never talked before…just allowing each other’s space…me with my fantasies…)

“I apologize for my crude remarks…but I do not know why that woman whom I have only know a short time said all those awful things….as …well about a month ago I had been out swimming (and he does have a swimmers vegan body…not an OUNCE of fat…I have noticed when he does his stretches)….but when I came out of the ocean she had moved her towel right next to mine….

and we have dated a few times…she has a really nice flat over there..(pointing beyond Ocean Avenue)..we watched movies…and then I took her to the dance down on the pier…..and then last week she texted me that she felt I was not physically attentive enough for her…and maybe we should just be friends…I said that was fine with me….”

“and then yesterday…well I should preface this …. there is a guy with a bird on his shoulder that is always here..whom you probabably have seen (meaning he had noticed me before…)…and we go mountain biking together…he’s a Wonderfully successful dentist…(and my mind went to …is his parrot on his shoulder as he works on your teeth..)…well she has ripped him up to me…..and yesterday…she saw me as I was approaching him and moved immediately to sit next to him….and NOW this…I just think she is crazy…and yet she supposedly has two Masters and is working on her PHD in Psychology ….I don’t know….”

I wanted to go over and hug him and tell him not to worry about the Psycho Bitch……

but being a quiet brooding Dane and with no tipple…did not……

2 Responses to “Crazy Psycho Bitch”

  1. xxR:

    I just returned from biking (actually stand biking- do NOT have the knee flexion to sit on the seat) along Ole Man River under clear bright blue early autumn sky, and then read your entry.

    xxR, I am starting to wonder if you share the same vibration and frequency of Forrest Gump. I was laughing and gasping at the same time: in a space of a few hours this was condensed miniseries on cable. I think we need a webcam installed in your forehead- like the Chinese man whose doctors created a nose on his forehead. You live in spectacular Tennesse Williams wonder, in a Fellini film and Road Runner cartoon.

    I was talking with Lowell earlier, and updated him on the reality show I am living in. I do NOT know how I got onto the stage of Hamlet’s Denmark. But, I HOPE the curtain falls soon with no curtain calls….

    I love YOU ,and the YOU of YOU!
    x Catherine

  2. susi said

    Oh, great writing contrast tools at work here here… the loud,flamboyant, nonsensical character, contrasted with your “but being a quiet brooding Dane and with no tipple…did not……” The quiet, not-quite-in-the-scene Observer in all of us recognizes this. Perfect ending…

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