Tuesday, November 4, 2008

(W11) Broken Flip Flops.

My legs were sore, my ears were ringing and I just could not stay asleep. The clock ticked steady, the hour hand had moved from one side to the other and my eyes blurred. I stepped on the cover of my book, as I swung my legs off the bed. As I stood the world became fuzzy and red, I could feel my heart beat throbbing in my head. My pants rested on the box of Miller High life that housed the remaining four cans. My flip flops were in the large trash bag by the door. The signed cape was on top of the heap in the hall. The visions of a beautiful women dancing flashed in and out of my mind.

Twenty seven and a half hours earlier.

'NICK!'
'yeah?'
'Are you up, cause its 6'
'Yeah, but my alarm clock hasn't gone off yet.'
'Well I really want my face painted.'

First the coat of white, then let it dry, then the pink, then the red, then the black, and then some more red in case the nose falls off. It was not my best work but she looked like a clown when I was done.

I went upstairs and made the Iron on transfer. It took for ever to get the image right, I had a hard time finding a way to transverse the image. The iron smelt horrid, like burning plastic and heated metal. I went to my bedroom and napped to allow the transfer to cool. Sure enough, I had done it horridly wrong, as it turns out colored iron on transfers are completely different from white iron on transfers. There was just a white square on the back of my cape, I peeled it off to make sure the R was not just hidden under this odd white layer, nope. Alright iron it back on then.

I took my shower and got ready for work, I made a mad dash to marker the R onto the back and decided it would just have to do.

'Hey are you and Ja going tonight?'
'Yeah.'
'Alright I get out of work at 8 could you pick me up?'
'Sure well be there at 6 or something.'
'Not 6, 8.'
'Ok 8 then.'

My 11 to 8 shift moved right along; having a hippy, vampire and chef as coworkers made it easier to get through the day.

My friends, Josh dressed in womens pants and eye liner and Ja dressed in a Russian winter camo jump suit with fake blood running down it, showed up an hour before I was out. We went home and I put on my suit of armor made out of cardboard and duct tape.

We stood in my yard and each downed a Mike's hard pomegranate lemonade, we walked by my work and I showed off my armor. We ducked into the woods and topped off another lemonade.

We got to the restaurant and were directed upstairs, the band had started already. The first set was fun I let myself move to the music a little. When the band took a break I showed off my armor that had their symbol. I went to the bar and got a Hanakin. I ran into my high school art teacher and she was astounded that I was 21.

For the second set I went all out, I jumped up and down, just surrendering to the beat. The guy that works as the bands staff, who I later found out used to watch wrestling with my brother, gave me a free t-shirt.

The second set ended and it was time to have the costume contest. There were a group of women in high school soccer jerseys, there were a few punk rockers, and assortment of raised from the dead people.

The lead singer started his spiel 'There are a lot of very sexy costumes, there are some very scary dead guys out there, but there is only one person that made his own RANT ARMOR!'
I walked up and they turned me around so the people could see the markered on 'R'. The crowd screamed and I got the band to sign my cap. The bartender handed me two fifty dollar bills.

I got invited to a few after parties but I already had plans to go to one. We sat around for a bit, so Ja could talk to a girl. I could hear people talking about me and my armor, I got the date for their next show. We walked back, grabbed the bottles and started to run. We decided to grab drinks at the gas station and we only had ten minutes left till one.

I laughed out loud and started to sing 'B double E double R U N, Beer Run.' We got to my house I changed into the free t-shirt, my white camo pants and a blue and white stripped Old Navy button up, and my trusty flip flops. I stopped by my cousin's to see how his Halloween was going, he had no tricker treaters and bowls of candy. He had entertained a few of friends and had a good time.

I got to the party and introduced myself to a few people I did not know. While on my second beer I walked into the keyboardist, Eric, selecting a song.

'Man I love this song' he said.
'Then Sing it, and dance with it.' I looked him straight in the eye. The second the lyrics started up he was singing it. The drummer came in and we all swayed to the song as Eric sung word for word.

Walked around for a bit and chit chatted with friends and people I had just met. I talked to the Eric about flip flops and how the ones I had on had about ten thousand miles on them. On my fourth beer I noted the Eric's girlfriend and another girl dancing to Rap music. I wanted to dance with the other girl so I started to dance, and for the second song I got to dance with her. She was beautiful, so when I found that she was with another guy at the party I was not surprised. She told me to call her Ellie.

I met some other very interesting characters, one was carrying around Cap't Morgans and a liter of Coke, he offered me a shot a few times, and I took them. I gave him two of my beers and continued to chit chat about nothing.

Ellie and her boyfriend left she thanked me for the dance.

My friends and I decided to go, and as I was climbing into my friends truck I snagged my flip flop on the door and snapped the piece into between my toes.

I got home and hit the bed around four.


-NK

3 comments:

johngoldfine said...

Interesting reading about the armor and concert from a slightly different perspective.

You've got the movie-technique working nicely at the start and that definitely pulls us in and is picked up nicely at the very end as we see the flipflops tear.

IMO, you lose control of your material somewhat in the middle, offering an overabundance of detail, so much that we lose the thread, lose the actual narrative point. It's common to over- delineate material vivid to the writer. What happens after that depends on the writer's goals and intentions.

So, what are yours with this piece?

johngoldfine said...

I guess the two possible outcomes if the writer owns 'over-delineation' would be either cutting or doubling down on the delineating and seeing if getting into it more makes the stories snap a little louder.

nkassigned08 said...

I can see a few places I can streamline. When I get another break I will post a Re: