I laid on the floor for a long time. I didn't want to get up. I was still riding on that vision. I know I must have eventually gotten up to walk down the hallway to pee, even though I've been known to really hold it. And yeah, I didn't pee into the sink. "You peed in the sink?" "Yeah. There was a line at the bathroom." And I didn't pee out the window either.
I may have gotten up late in the afternoon to look out the window at the movie marquee. The California. That was the coolest thing ever. I loved that. I've always dreamt of what it must have been like to work at an old theater, before the chains took over. The film running and slipping. The hot smell of the projector. Kids having a great time. Teenagers losing their minds and adults trying to escape theirs.
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| Must have been the brick building to the left. |
LBJ gave up on me ever joining the living that day. "I'm going to go see a movie next door." "Ok." When he got back he kept going on about how great the movie was. I saw the big letters everyday. "The Godfather." "What was it about?" blah blah. "Oh." Staring out at the marquee of any movie from 1972 was pretty cool, but I guess looking out that window at the people and traffic was a sight that I feel fortunate to have seen.
In a way I didn't want to hear anything about the mafia considering how fucked up it all was. I just wanted to forget about it. I guess LBJ needed to know. I never saw it till VCR's were a thing and some of the wounds in my soul were closed up. It eventually grew on me.
The theater is closed now and the building we were staying in is some friggin KoKoLo Danburi and Chipotle. That's what ya got.
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