The Parrot's Den
I'm off night-clubbing right now..... Sanctuary and hot, crazy suicide-girls type girls be damned
I'm hanging out in questionable bars on my vampire nights off. Working on shows, I work in the evening. So 3 am for me, it's like 7pm for the Normals. The parrots.... is this local owned by motorcycle cops ( Actually, Motorcycle cop's wives... imported from the Philippines. Having Amer-Asian babies and cooking breakfast's for the local condo contractors in the morning. Then, hiring white wait-staff to turn the restaurant into an ad-hawk beer bar in the evening. ) It's a no bullshit affair, A Star Trek Mirror World version of an HA cantina bar. decorated like an explosion on a Jimmy buffet, soft rock, video set. Full of flaky people, and interesting conversations. The main bar tender, is this bruiser of an 80's surrey girl A ex security guard that I used to see often at rock shows. Fights are rare and far between. And police response is, Swift, Brutal and Complete. A great place to be a quiet regular. The juke box is full of classic punk and metal acts. And, it's the cheapest place to get a Beck's along the rip off that is Granville street.
(One of the things I hate is beer snobbery... but we all have it somewhere in our genes. It's a taste. My brother's been to Ireland. There he drank Guinness ( lots of Guinness... and it shows ) straight from the brew pub place that made the first Guinness ever. Now, here in Vancouver he's sworn off the brew as here it's not " Real Guinness " Me? I drink Beck's. Because everywhere I 've even been it tastes exactly the same. Across Canada, Europe, down to LA . It's like the German standard. The Big Mac of Beers. Anyways I digress.... )
I ended up chatting with this guy, Oso. An importee from Guatemala. Who as a teen was here illegally. Selling dope and running from the cops. Till a police officer unwittingly hired him to reno his house out in the burbs, under the table. Which led to him getting a gig on the new Olympic Sky-train extension. Where now he works in the trade union, legally. Now, he's 27, Laying Re-bar 12 hours a day, 5 days a week. And, is now making more money then he ever could back in Central America. I love talking to people high in their lives. regardless of what they do. They're so perfectly full of they're moment. Open to all. He wants to be a video game maker. As that's his real passion. And I can just see what he sees in his eyes. Just massive potential.
With him was is GF? a stripper down at The Penthouse. Who's working the floor doing private dances for cash. As she can't pay all the fees to be a regular. And has no agent to be a feature. A lovely latino girl from Mexico city. Tall, with curly hair. An impish face with big soft brown eyes. Brandishing her first of many tattoos. A flower motif cascading up her calf. And she has that perfect sitar shaped body. That silhouette of a small, nymphet girlish top, but womanly hips and thighs that makes me want a private dance just from looking at her. I'm certain she does well for a cash only girl. being barely legal ( In more ways than one as I found out )
They started buying me Beck's as I told road stories, working with bands they'd probably never heard off. And, I'm doing my best... dividing my time between the two of them. trying to be charming. practicing those tourism BC muscles. But, I have to admit I could barely keep my eyes of this girl, Marta, his Mexican girl friend. As I've been so lonely for so long.
Then, while she's in the ladies. Oso point blankly offers me to her... Which totally took me back. She's illegal. And Marta needs a Canadian Fella. And he says, she says she likes me. Now, I'm 41 and she's barely 21. And he's all, " that doesn't matter, you want her don't you. " Well, yes I had to admit my manhood is screaming for a moment like this. But, my head ( the other one....) even though it's filled with generic German purity beer. Has seen sure things like this before. And the police sirens were going off in my head.
So, I thought of the perfect return..... I'd have to see her dance first. And not at the penthouse, but out on a dance floor. And told them of my regular Goth/ industrial haunt. We exchanged numbers and maybe they'll show.
but, I doubt it... like the rest of their story.......
I'm off night-clubbing right now..... Sanctuary and hot, crazy suicide-girls type girls be damned
I'm hanging out in questionable bars on my vampire nights off. Working on shows, I work in the evening. So 3 am for me, it's like 7pm for the Normals. The parrots.... is this local owned by motorcycle cops ( Actually, Motorcycle cop's wives... imported from the Philippines. Having Amer-Asian babies and cooking breakfast's for the local condo contractors in the morning. Then, hiring white wait-staff to turn the restaurant into an ad-hawk beer bar in the evening. ) It's a no bullshit affair, A Star Trek Mirror World version of an HA cantina bar. decorated like an explosion on a Jimmy buffet, soft rock, video set. Full of flaky people, and interesting conversations. The main bar tender, is this bruiser of an 80's surrey girl A ex security guard that I used to see often at rock shows. Fights are rare and far between. And police response is, Swift, Brutal and Complete. A great place to be a quiet regular. The juke box is full of classic punk and metal acts. And, it's the cheapest place to get a Beck's along the rip off that is Granville street.
(One of the things I hate is beer snobbery... but we all have it somewhere in our genes. It's a taste. My brother's been to Ireland. There he drank Guinness ( lots of Guinness... and it shows ) straight from the brew pub place that made the first Guinness ever. Now, here in Vancouver he's sworn off the brew as here it's not " Real Guinness " Me? I drink Beck's. Because everywhere I 've even been it tastes exactly the same. Across Canada, Europe, down to LA . It's like the German standard. The Big Mac of Beers. Anyways I digress.... )
I ended up chatting with this guy, Oso. An importee from Guatemala. Who as a teen was here illegally. Selling dope and running from the cops. Till a police officer unwittingly hired him to reno his house out in the burbs, under the table. Which led to him getting a gig on the new Olympic Sky-train extension. Where now he works in the trade union, legally. Now, he's 27, Laying Re-bar 12 hours a day, 5 days a week. And, is now making more money then he ever could back in Central America. I love talking to people high in their lives. regardless of what they do. They're so perfectly full of they're moment. Open to all. He wants to be a video game maker. As that's his real passion. And I can just see what he sees in his eyes. Just massive potential.
With him was is GF? a stripper down at The Penthouse. Who's working the floor doing private dances for cash. As she can't pay all the fees to be a regular. And has no agent to be a feature. A lovely latino girl from Mexico city. Tall, with curly hair. An impish face with big soft brown eyes. Brandishing her first of many tattoos. A flower motif cascading up her calf. And she has that perfect sitar shaped body. That silhouette of a small, nymphet girlish top, but womanly hips and thighs that makes me want a private dance just from looking at her. I'm certain she does well for a cash only girl. being barely legal ( In more ways than one as I found out )
They started buying me Beck's as I told road stories, working with bands they'd probably never heard off. And, I'm doing my best... dividing my time between the two of them. trying to be charming. practicing those tourism BC muscles. But, I have to admit I could barely keep my eyes of this girl, Marta, his Mexican girl friend. As I've been so lonely for so long.
Then, while she's in the ladies. Oso point blankly offers me to her... Which totally took me back. She's illegal. And Marta needs a Canadian Fella. And he says, she says she likes me. Now, I'm 41 and she's barely 21. And he's all, " that doesn't matter, you want her don't you. " Well, yes I had to admit my manhood is screaming for a moment like this. But, my head ( the other one....) even though it's filled with generic German purity beer. Has seen sure things like this before. And the police sirens were going off in my head.
So, I thought of the perfect return..... I'd have to see her dance first. And not at the penthouse, but out on a dance floor. And told them of my regular Goth/ industrial haunt. We exchanged numbers and maybe they'll show.
but, I doubt it... like the rest of their story.......