Unemployed Part One

I'm a Pepper, wanna be a Pepper too?
i could be really embarrassed right now, but instead i feel RAD.

i'm sitting in a cafe. i'm a girl in a duran duran tshirt from 1984 that i bought at their concert, with babysitting money. i'm using guy's gargantuan apple laptop like all the other mission geeks. i'm not in the mission though. i couldn't wouldn't shouldn't do that.

i didn't wash my hair yet and it's not in a safe-style, like a ponytail, NO. it's just hanging, all bedheaded and kinda wavy, like sleep-waves and i couldn't be happier. if you're not fitting in to one embarrassing cliche, you're fitting in to another.

you'd think i'd be embarrassed to be alternative rocker girl in the almost-mission, but i'm not. i guess some cliches feel more comfortable than others.

to top it off, i'm blogging. NO! NO! i don't do that. i write on The Jones. it's a magazine i invented. you can only read it online. i don't know what blogging is. when i was a teenager i wanted to invent a zine. that's what you did in the 80s. i wanted to call it "The Glass Onion," after the john lennon song. my favorite column in it would have been called "The Smoking Girl," which contained ideas and observations from my little sister. yes, she smoked. but she was also smokin'.

it never happened but i spent a lot of time taking notes.

The 80s
an octogenarian just asked me about the computer. he said, "what size is yours? i'm getting one." i told him and he asked me where i'm from. i said, "here." he said No, where were you born? i told him, Louisiana, mr. jones. he smiled slowly, just a little bit, like i proved some point he had. i wondered if it was about girls on computers in duran duran tshirts and dirty hair. "i'm from HERE" he said, and pointed to the table. i said, REALLY? right here on this table? he chuckled a little and then moved on. very slowly. red sweatshirt, bluetooth, and sneakers.


BITES
i'm supposed to only chew on the left side of my mouth for two weeks. those BASTARDS. i guess i cracked a tooth, maybe from chewing on a pen, no one knows. it's cracked, it's gotta be fixed. i go in yesterday, to the dentist and request a halcyon. i already inquired into some nitrous, but they offered halcyon instead. figuring it probably won't be strong enough for these nerves made of vibrating steel, i take a 5 mg. valium before i go. i'm not supposed to take it, it's for flying next week to hawaii and baltimore in may.

when i arrive they give me a small blue pill cut in two. they tell me to put it under my tongue and let it dissolve. fine. fine. fine. i'll do whatever they say. i've never tried halcyon. i don't know what's going to happen. it's an old drug, not really prescribed anymore. i'm not even sure what category it fits under. yet.

eventually, they say it's time to start and i do feel intensely focused on the tv above my chair, that has Pirates of the Carribean, II playing on it. i couldn't care less about Pirates, but my eyes won't leave the screen. or blink.

after the appointment, the doctor told me i probably don't need halcyon. that i was totally relaxed. i said, That's because of the halcyon. he laughed. apparently i fell asleep briefly.

my efforts to make sure i got high kind of backfired. they want me to go clean next time. DAMMIT!

OH, they tell me as i leave, NO CHEWING ON THE LEFT SIDE OF YOUR MOUTH FOR TWO WEEKS.

all these rules are getting hard to keep track of:
1. no chewing on left side of mouth
2. no bending of left index finger
3. take blue pill every morning
4. really, stop drinking so much and what's with the smoking?