Thursday, March 24, 2016

Tarantino Wannabe Film starring a Girl named Tarantella

Boom Shack-a-lacka Boom Shack-a-lacka Boom! Base sounds. Hard rounds. Talking European football with a mess of a man. He sits upright like the Eiffel Tower. Drunk at end of bar is a Leaning Tower of Pisa. Come a Come a Camaraderie. Take a look at these London On and Offs glistening like Christmas lights. Was it the bitters in their gin/tonic. Or the pepperoni in the pizza. Half of one eye closed she has at the slice as with gritted teeth she pulls at the Parmesan. The topping with cheese and tomato sauce drips onto the table floating over the bartender's concoction. This is not a Sunday night. This-is-a-how-the-hell-did-I-end-up-here-kind-of-night-before-Monday-morning-when-I'll-be-expected-to-be-showered-and-groomed-suit and tied-holding-office-on-the-fortieth-floor-of-a-building-mid-town-where-the-cab-drivers-drive-sarcastically and the-hot-dogs-taste-rubbery. Robbery. He walks in sawed off shotgun. Arms up in the air! Arms up in the air! Turn the music off! Turn the music off! He don't like mariachi. Or was that Joe Strummer and the Mescalaros. Pimp Pomp Adore! It-would-be-much-easier-making-money-off-a-would-be-has-been-never-really-made-it-but-he or is-that-she-comes-around-opens-up-a-tab-gets-wasted-sits-there-singing-along-to-the-jukebox-cat-calling-strangers-until-closing-time. He throws a potato sack at Harry and orders him fill it up with cash. I'm almost expecting Lucy to sashay over to this speck of a man run her hand around his shoulder say something Luciferian coming from a chick of course, "Looks like you haven't been laid in a while. Why don't you come over to my end of the squat and make like we've known each other for a long, long time." Not Lucy she's shitting bricks. So Harry does the thing he was told to do. He tosses the bag at the man. He makes a nice catch, fires a shot in the air and like a cat makes a dash out the door. Somebody must have texted 911 'cause out of nowhere we hear sirens as someone yells, "FREEZE!" Balls to the wall they'll tattoo his face against the bricks, handcuff him, stick him in the back seat off to penitentiary. As for the money I say a round of drinks for everyone. A hard one for Tarantella. I want to get her drunk unload my junk in her trunk. Whiskey Sour and lime for me. I am liberated, inebriated, cash diamonds in my pocket. I'll thumb her neck until three then I'll tap my teeth on her wrist. It'll be time to go put the rubber to the road. If I can't see maybe it's dark and I got on my darkies. Tom Cruise in Risky Business. Life is risky. She's my business. Tonight I'll make it like in the movies. You know some choreographed Nijinsky shit. Les Russes! She smells of vodka. I am liberated, inebriated, cash diamonds in my pocket.

No comments: