I've been BURGLARIZED!
What the fuck is my neighborhood coming to? Is it the new S+M club that just opened that's bringing in the riff-raff? Sigh..
OK~I came home just as it got dark Thursday evening--had a decent day, hustled $100 straight away from some desperate kink in a fedora. After we fucked in his Impala, he tried to tell me he was in 'Desperately Seeking Susan'. LIAR! Anyway, ran into Bitsy at the Food Court and shared a corndog. I was wearing my white corset with lace gloves and got totally smothered in mustard. She was dabbing me off with some 7-UP when this wacky blowhard in plaid pulls up beside us in a BMW and asks if we'll tag-team. So we talked him into $100 apiece to replay the whole "mustard dabbing" debacle in the nude while he jerked-off and waggled his unibrow. It's not even six o'clock yet, and besides my stains, I'm on a roll.
Shared a cab with Bits, and I get out at the record store I've been wanting to check out. I decide right there that my mustard stains are actually kinda bitchin', so I work that shit. I get watched like a hawk by the fucking old fart record clerk, who thinks I'm gonna steal some tapes, so I do. I got Grace Jones' 'Nightclubbing', The B-52's 'Bouncing off the Satellites', and some new shit by 'New Order'. Saw Exene Cervenka looking at magazines, and I practically creamed my jeans. Didn't see John Doe, I think she was there alone. Tried to be cool and wiggled past her to the used records, but she looked right at my stains and sneered. Decided to come home and change.
Took the bus back to the Hills, and it's not quite dusk. Thought about how old the palm trees must be as I witnessed a woman pick a booger and eat it.
As I came up the stairs to my apartment, I had the weirdest feeling. I don't know, like something was "off"...
I unlocked the front door, but it may have already been unlocked, I don't know. The TV was gone, my radio, my tapes--even my alarm clock, GONE. The hammock was strewn with clothes and I panicked as I saw they had gone through my closet, but then realized that this is just the sloppy way I'd left it. The window was opened about seven inches, and the heavy velvet drapes were flapping sadly in the breeze..
Had another panic when I thought about the robbers still being there--so I grabbed the scissors off the coffee table and stalked around with them, Aimed to Kill, like in a movie. In the kitchen they took the microwave, so that means I'm fucked and will be doomed to starve to death. Checked the oven (my "safe") and thank GOD everything was still there ($3k in cash, my grammaw's earrings, and the catsuit I'm stealing from Charlie.) Thank Christ I can't cook.
I'm still shaken up--Every time I can't find something (which is all the time) I go crazy and think the bad guys took it. Even my fucking canna Aquanet, or one of my lace-up boots. Shit!
I called and told Diane what happened--they didn't take my semi-collectible Mickey Mouse phone, for some reason--and she told me burglaries aren't that uncommon. Just to lock the doors and windows, and sleep with a knife under my pillow. Like, who doesn't do all that anyway, you stoned cunt?!? I mean, how the fuck am I supposed to cook poptarts without a goddamned microwave?
I'm thinking about moving. I'm only 19, I'll figure something out. Charlie said I can stay with her between the hours of 3-11pm, as long as I don't eat her food. Told her my "Exene" story, and she goes, "So what? 'X' sucks, get the fuck over it." I think it's because Billy Zoom ignored her when she tried to get his attention one night down on the Boulevard. But it kinda bummed me out when she said that.
Later that night, when Charlie asked about her catsuit, I told her the crooks got it.
Decided to be brave and stayed in my own apartment that night. You know, I'm lucky I'm a slob, coz the bad guys woulda made out with a lot more of my shit, if they could find it! Luckily I have a little boombox under the murphy bed. Layed in the hammock with a strawberry wine cooler and listened to all my new tapes.