music up to compete with the wind. It was some British techno-pop. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE LISTENING TO?” Don yelled.
“DEPECHE MODE.” Alice yelled back.
“IT SOUNDS LIKE SHIT.”
“WHAT?” She screamed, pointing at her ear.
“IT SUCKS.”
“I LIKE IT.” She said. Kid Karl smiled a little. The 110 freeway took us winding from South Pasadena past downtown Los Angeles. It was a beautiful warm night and it seemed as if everyone must’ve been going to a party or a movie or to some other activity of no importance. The Kid drove like he played the drums, fast and precise. We got off on Melrose in what looked like a serious ghetto. “Are you sure this is the right exit?” Alice asked. “I thought it was supposed to be in some big mansion.”
“I think so… They said get off on Melrose and make a left at the light.” He said.
“Oh my god, look at them.” Alice’s friend said as a couple of prostitutes in short skirts walked by.
The little stucco apartments and liquor stores we were passing had bars on the windows. There were groups of guys standing around and every surface was covered in urban calligraphy. “Look at that. That’s cool as hell.” Kid Karl said as we passed a large graffiti piece on the side of an apartment building.
“This can’t be right.” Alice said. “I think we took the wrong off-ramp.”
“It’s right. Here’s La Brea right here. This is where I’m supposed to turn.” Karl said. We turned and turned again and watched the houses go from poor to rich, to really rich, to filthy rich. The front lawns got bigger and bigger. Finally we turned down a street that was full of parked cars and people driving around looking for parking places and walking in small groups. “This must be it. I think it’s that house right there.” The Kid said, pointing to a palace with a U-shaped driveway that was full of foreign and classic American cars. “I’m not dragging my whole kit up the block. I’ll pull up here and you guys can wait with it while I find a place to park, okay?”
“Yeah, all right.” Don said. Karl stopped in the middle of the street in front of the house and we jumped out of the car. There were already two cars waiting behind us as we walked around to the back of the station wagon. I hoped they were people going to the party and not random traffic. We quickly pulled all Karl’s gear onto the sidewalk along with Don’s bass. The last piece of equipment to be unloaded was Don’s amp, and while I was hauling it someone in a car behind us honked so I took an extra long time getting out of the way. Don shut the rear door of the wagon and Kid Karl and the girls drove off down the street. I lit a cigarette and gave one to Don and we stood there smoking mutely as some girls who looked like movie stars walked by. There were also some guys in white baseball caps and the latest in high-dollar footwear going in. Everyone was entering the party through the side gate which led to the backyard. We could hear the music thumping and the occasional scream or loud laugh coming from back there. I’d washed my pants, but my shoes were still dirty and my T-shirt was ripped in the back. Don looked even sloppier than me, but he had an excuse, he was in a band.
Kid Karl and Alice came up the sidewalk holding hands with the other one trailing behind. I flicked my cigarette butt into the street and picked up the kick-drum. Don and Karl got the other drums and amp and Alice and her friend carried the cymbals and the bass. A burly guy in a black T-shirt was taking money at the gate, there was a line, but he waved us in ahead of everyone.
Behind the house was a swimming pool and a large patio bordered in an L shape by the lawn. The sound system was set up on a deep wooden porch that ran the length of the house. There were four long steps from the porch to the patio and lots of people were casually sitting on them, drinking out of red plastic cups. There was a big tree at the back of the yard and a narrow pool-house up against the wall. People were milling around in groups of three or four, talking, laughing, smoking, and drinking. Everyone seemed to know each other.
The DJ was playing wild rap music with lots of cursing. I’d never heard it before but it was cool and I wished I knew what it was. Scott was standing by the turntables nodding his head. When he saw us he waved us over. There was an oriental rug laid out next to the DJ and Scott had his mic, guitar and amp set up on it. I put down the kick drum and watched Kid Karl spring into action, setting up his kit with military efficiency. When I saw that I wasn’t going to be any help, I turned and surveyed the party. There were about two hundred people there, but it was early and there was a steady stream of new arrivals. It was dark except for a light in the pool and two big ones above the porch. I smelled ganja but I couldn’t see where it was coming from.
A crowd of people was waiting by the pool house with cups. “Hey Don, you want a beer?” I asked. Scott gave Don a look.
“No, not ‘till after we play.” He said. I walked by a group of well groomed preps on the stairs and thought I heard one of them snicker as I passed. I ignored it and walked casually over to where the kegs were being mobbed. I stood patiently at the back of the crowd. There was a thin girl with black hair and lots of makeup standing next to me and we made eye contact for a second. I said hi but she looked away and pretended she hadn’t heard.
“Damn, I guess she didn’t like the looks of you.” Someone said behind me.
I turned and saw a normal looking guy standing there. “No, I forgot my white baseball cap.” I said. “No one told me that’s what everyone was wearing.”
He laughed. “Me neither.” He said running his hand over his nearly shaved head. “Don’t you have a cup hommie?”
“Aren’t there cups up there?” I asked.
“No, you gotta buy the cups over by the porch. They cost two dollars.”
“Aw, fuck.”
“Don’t sweat it. Today’s your lucky day.” He said. “The dude gave me two stuck together, so I have an extra.” He pulled them apart, spilling the dregs of what was left in the cup on his hand. He shook it off and gave me the extra cup.
“Thanks, man. What’s your name?”
“Lazlo, yours?”
“Nick.” I said as we got to the kegs.
“Have you seen Fly Rob?” He asked me as I pumped a cupful.
“I don’t know who that is.” I said.
He gave me a strange look. “This is his party.” He said, putting his cup under the spigot.
“Oh. I came with the band, I don’t know Fly Rob.”
“You came with the band?” He asked. “What do you play?”
“I’m not in the band, I’m just friends with the bass player.” He nodded as we made our way out of the crowded beer area. I pulled out my cigarettes. “You smoke Lazlo?”
“Just weed.” He said.
“I got some of that too.”
“Are you selling it?”
I lit my cigarette. “Nah, I just brought a joint.” I answered.
“Oh… You and my friend Jake should collaborate on that joint. He brought some coke and we were going to roll up a coco-puff.” He said. “You ever had one of those?”
“No, is it nice?”
“Mad nice.” He said. We had walked up to a mismatched couple who were both sitting on the edge of a reclining lawn chair. The guy was short and stocky with a spiked flat top that looked like it had a lot of gel in it. He wore shorts and sandals and a surfer necklace with fat beads. She was taller than him, with brown hair and a face that was mostly nose. Her eyes were puffy and she wore tight jeans and jelly bracelets. She held a thin cigarette which she smoked with an air of indifference. “This is Nick.” Lazlo said, gesturing to me. They looked up and nodded in greeting. “And this is Jake and Aloni.” I said hello. “Nick was just telling me he brought a joint.” Lazlo continued. “He said we could use it for our coco-puff.”
“Yeah? Is it good weed?” Jake asked.
“Pretty good. There’s no seeds or anything.” I answered.
“Cool. I don’t see Fly Rob anywhere. We’ll have to open up your joint and re-roll it with the yayo. Do you have papers?” H
e asked.
“Nope.”
“I got some.” Lazlo said pulling a pack of zig-zags out of his pocket.
“We have to wait for Jen you guys.” Aloni said. “She’ll be here any minute.”
“She lives three blocks away, what’s taking her so damn long?” Jake asked.
“She’s probably trying on different shades of eye shadow. Either that or her mom won’t let her out or something.” She answered. “If she’s not here in a little while we can do it without her, but I promised her we’d wait.” Just then a piercing blast of feedback startled everyone. The whole party looked over to where the band was setting up.
“This dude came with those guys.” Lazlo said.
“Really? Are they any good?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, they’re real good if you like hardcore. They’re loud, fast, and funny.” I said, sipping my beer.
“What’s their name?” Jake asked.
“Eat Feet.”
“There’s a word for that you know.” Aloni said. “It’s called shrimping.” We all looked at her. “You know, people who like to lick and suck on feet… They’re called shrimpers.” She explained.
“You would know some sick shit like that.” Jake said. Aloni laughed and took a luxurious hit off her cigarette.
“Seriously,” Lazlo said, “where’d you hear that?”
“It’s just something I know, that’s all.”
“You should tell Scott.” I said. “He’s the singer. He’d probably use it in a song.” She smiled and looked away. There
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