I feel like one of those burritos you get off a roller at the Stuffer Shack. You know the ones. They’re late night and a cut above warm, the filling is unidentifiable and it just WANTS to get out of it’s casing. It literally demands it, and it will. It’ll spew out at the first bite and splay all over your favorite shirt in the most unforgivable way.

Now let me give you a look into why I feel like that.

Last night started with me pulling up the cloth hood on my long coat, my synth guitar in its case strapped over my shoulder as I walked the streets of Puyallup.I love that coat, by the way. It’s worn, patched and studded. Had it for years. I feel like I can disappear in it. Great for when I just want to blend and don’t feel like gliding along under invisibility.

I’ve played most of the venues in the Emerald City. Might come as a surprise that I ain’t ever had a go at Underworld 93 yet. Especially since it was always my favorite house to hear an act knock out a show in. Imagine the look on my face when Gatsby told me Annette Harris wanted to meet with me before the Underworld doors opened that night. Here’s a hint: The cig I’d been absently pushing back nearly fell from my lips before I grinned, sprung up and bumped a victory dance. I’d like to think it was a sexy one but I know better.

Before I knew it I was in Annette’s office, surrounded by her and her people and I was doing what I do best. Guitar in hand I gave them a taste of what I was made of, bare bones. Don’t know why but I decided to play a cover instead of my own work. Settled quick on my own version of ‘Take it to Mister’ and it went over like a starburst. An hour later it was all smiles and sweetness, deal closed and I was heading out into the city with Harris’ people minus Annette herself.

Ever been to ‘The Cutting Edge’? Me either. Well, it’s TMI sharin’ time, chums. I’ve never been arrow straight but in a pinch I prefer the company of a muscular male body against mine before the curves of a woman. It’s a primal thing down deep in my bones. Last night though? Under the dip of a few designer drugs and some hard shots my body didn’t give a frag what parts you had. It just wanted. It just craved.

Arriving it was drinks and catcalls and there was no fraggin’ way I was going to be upstaged by these act buzzards. Body shots off performers and girls dancing our table… I could nearly feel the Nuyen moving through the air around me and into the talents virtual tip tally. I don’t even know when it happened but SOMEONE bought me a solo dance and I was being pulled away into the back room despite half-hearted appeals for rescue.

So there I am in a private room going into the fourth straight lap dance with this gorgeous half Japanese girl; my shirt down around my waist and skin to skin with a stripper who I knew was taking advantage of me. She didn’t know who I was and to tell you the honest 5×5, I barely remembered who I was by that point either. Lips on hers, hands sliding over skin that was way too soft I was feelin’ everything that I recognize I don’t feel much anymore. She just wanted my Nuyen and to juice me for more dances and all I wanted was to feel. To feel anything at all.

Then it hit me like a Ares Citymaster. I was pulling up my shirt and slamming through the back door of the club, pitching out the stand ramen I’d taken in on my way to Underworld 93. Too much substance mixing will do that to you. Send your night crashing down around you before it got as hot as it could have. I piled into a cab and got back to my condo in a daze. Here I’ve lain since, that proverbial burst burrito.

All part of the business, running the edge of the night.

TO DO LIST FOR TODAY: Remember to pick up my axe from Underworld today before Annette puts it in a case.

Until next time; Rage the Riot, Chummers.


#Underground93, #VendettaViolent, #StrippersAreSoft, #livingburrito, #riotblue, #IhateyourpeopleAnnette, #theCuttingEdge, @AnnetteHarris, @gatsby

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