A Punker's Notes [Original Novel]

Part One: Entry 22

“Let’s get somethin’ ta eat before we start fryin’,” Jenkins suggests. We’ve just been to buy some acid from Jacques in L.A. He’d moved in with Ernie after kicking Frank and Jenkins out. We stop at a small Italian place and we each order a couple slices of pizza.

Just as twilight is settling in, we get back in the car. I drive straight up Vermont towards Griffith Park. It’s 4th of July and just after crossing Hollywood Boulevard we run into traffic.

“Fuck...! I don’t wanna be peakin’ in a Goddamn traffic jam!” I explode as we creep along nearing the Greek Auditorium. I anxiously envision things moving along, unconsciously hoping that this will help the situation a bit.

“The Mule dude..., the fucking Mule!” Ish mimics the voice of a narrator who is reading from an Isaac Asimov novel on a local public radio station.

“Dude..., I can see the fuckin’ mule in my head,” Jenkins jumps in as the LSD is starting to kick in. “Dude..., he’s a fuckin’ donkey lookin’ space thing with a glass helmet and he can talk. But when he talks he’s got a British science fiction accent.”

We crawl past dusk-lit Hollywood homes from a long gone era with expanse, well kept
lawns. As we’re passing the Greek Theater, we see the reason for the traffic.

“All these cocksucking yuppie fucks...! Blowin’ my Goddamn flow goin’ ta see that boring ass motherfucker Jimmy Buffet!” I yell as I mistakenly turn into a parking area.

An attendant waves for me to do something. I end up driving straight towards the front end of a new Volvo heading our way.

“I fuckin’ knew it!” I’m roaring. “I’m fuckin’ peakin’ in a Goddamn motherfuckin’ bitch cunt traffic jam!”

We pass the Greek Theater and the traffic disappears. Then we’re at Griffith Park Observatory and I pull the Cutlass into a parking space.

Ish carries a plastic bag full of fireworks as we walk in darkness past the strongly lit observatory. We walk around the landmark and into dry hills behind the place on a one lane dirt road.

“Fuckin party machine extra!” Ish yells holding a Roman candle barely horizontal. It shoots red fireballs that skitter dangerously close to the dry brush of a nearby hillside. I turn away looking at the night view. It’s easy in my state of mind to pretend that there is no immediate danger at hand of Ish starting a brush fire. I look out onto Hollywood below.

Looking at the lines and lines of lights I try to decide where some major landmarks are. I notice a few pyrotechnics shooting up off in the distance, but am unable to even tell where Sunset Boulevard is.

Ish finishes with his cache of fireworks and the three of us head back towards the observatory. We end up walking off the path downhill through an area sparsely forested with evergreens. A number of people meander in darkness looking for a view of the fireworks.

“Check it out, you can here Jimmy Buffet all the way up here!” a guy who has just wandered near us exclaims effeminately. “Do you guys have any pot?”

“Ahh..., no,” I answer a bit nervously.

“Are you guys from around here?”

In the darkness it’s impossible for me to see what Ish and Jenkins are up to. I stand uncomfortable wondering if this guy is hitting on us.

“Oh my God...! Are you guys frying on LSD?!” the guy yells.

At this I run as fast as I can up the moderately steep incline fifty feet or so to the big lawn of the observatory.

Jenkins and Ish reach the top a few seconds after me. The steep run is a bit too much for chubby Ish and he vomits a little at the top of the incline.

“Wh-why’dju run?” Jenkins asks.

“Fuck!” I answer laughing. “That dude wanted ta smoke my dick!”

“Fuck..., hah! That reminds me,” Jenkins starts. “A couple weeks back after my dad got over bein’ pissed about that rager, I was crashin’ on his and Ernie’s couch one weekend. And I got all stoned with Ernie then he took me for a ride on my dad’s Harley. It was pretty cool... We were just ridin’ around trippin’ on Hollywood and shit... Then we went up ta Hollywood Lake like right over there a ways.” Jenkins points to the west. “Anyway, we stopped there and we we’re checkin’ out the view and I said, ‘It’d be great to be with a girl up here’, and Ernie goes, ‘A girl would be nice, but a guy would be better.’ Then I lost it and just started yellin’, all stoned and shit, ‘Fuck...! I hate fags...! I fuckin’ hate fags!’ And then I stopped for a second and went, “Oh..., ah... I mean ah... You guys are cool... I mean..., you all are family. You guys aren’t fags... You’re gays.”

Photo by Picasso dela Cruz