Post by blackcrowheart on May 16, 2006 14:24:10 GMT -5
Native Writer: Komo'este
Check this guy out. He has some crazy and funny-ass writings about
living in the city. I use to live in Phoenix and these stories hit
home. You can not ignore the stench.
www.myspace.com/11031219
By Komo'este
------------------------------------------------------------------
50 ft. Heshin'
One day in October of 96' I took a trip north to Flagstaff, again, to
visit my friend Jay.
I was dying to get out of town from all the riff raff that plagues the
city, transient nuts and drunken bums. I was working and living at the
time in an area chock full of these types of people. I had to get away.
It was a spur of the moment trip after work on a Friday so I took the
city bus to the Greyhound bus station so I packed light, just a bag of
spare socks, shirt, and shooters. Little did I know that Flag was cold
up there and I was wearing my Chuck Taylor's, a dark grey t-shirt, and
black jeans, with no jacket on or packed?
The evening city transit was full for the rush hour so I stood the
whole way on what I call "the loser cruiser" down to the Greyhound
station. I restlessly stood the whole 30-minute trek glancing at all
the weary ugly faces full of hard tales of life and all its monkeyty
pitfalls. At this point I can't wait to get anywhere but here.
Luckily, my headphones save me from any imminent conversations.
As the city bus rounded 16th street and Buckeye, about a mile from the
Greyhound, I noticed a Native dude hanging out at the corner of the
street with a small duffel bag chatting with some transient with a
shopping cart. They looked very engaged in their conversation. I
didn't recognize the dude. He was looking metal with black pants,
black high tops, black tank top, and long hair, but with this
borderline transient appeal. You could tell he was a veteran street
person.
The bus finally arrived at the stop in front of the station and I
stumbled out to meet a whole new level of bus riders, the more
colorful wayward country traveler as opposed to the average local
derelict.
Just a couple of shooters and a few hours of sleep and I'll be up
north away from this entire cactus and concrete. As I stood in line to
purchase my ticket I noticed the heshin' guy from down the street
strolling around the parking lot. He seemed lost but his swaggering
demeanor said otherwise. It looked like he was searching for
directions somewhere. I got my ticket, took a piss, and stood in line
just in time to board.
As I stood in line I looked back and noticed that boarding somw other
bus across the way was what appeared to me was this girl I used to
know named Roxy. She was with another girl I only know as Rat, but
mightve been named Melissa. They were boarding a bus to Tucson so I
didnt have time to yell out. Meanwhile,the heshin' dude is swaggering
around inside the station. He wasn't drunk swaggering, more with the
transient demeanor of , "Im freakin' weird and don't know it!" kinda
swagger. I exit the building and board the bus hoping for a seat to
myself. As I sigh and begin to relax I take a peek out the bus window
and notice that now, the heshin' dude is in line to board the same bus
that I'm on. So far, nobody wants to sit next to me..
I sit and look to see if anyone wants the seat next to me but to no
avail, now the heshin' dude is on the bus and swaggering down the
aisle towards me. He's looking around for a seat and yelping out,
"Tsup Bro?" to any passenger that acknowledges his existence. He comes
right to my seat, flops down, hair and all, and says, "Tsup bro!?". I
nodded my head and waited for the usual questions.
He had this funky smell, this smorgasbord odor of sweet candy and
alcohol. He didn't pay much attention to me because at this point he
was apparently helping his "old lady" out with their baby? I had no
idea where she came from nor could I piece together how I had seen him
on the street previously and now this happened so suddenly. I turned
up the tunes on my headphones.
So the bus gets rolling out of Phoenix and as soon as it does, heshin'
dude breaks out a 40 from out of nowhere. I saw him carrying a small
bag of clothes but suddenly he had this 40 tilted up to the ceiling
taking in some big chugs. His shoulder kept rubbing, or more like
sticking to my arm as he lifted his 40 oz. I couldn't wait to get off
the bus because at this point, I'm tired and I just wanna get out of
this town, now I'm dragging the remnants of street life with me on
this trip I don't want to even break out a shooter for fear of something.
He doesn't look at or acknowledge me throughout the whole trip, which
was very unusual and surprising. Maybe he had an open mind or was just
completely gone but whenever you encounter a fellow Native in the city
it's the usual, "Where you from?" or, "What's your tribe?!""Do you
know so and so?" None of that happened with this dude which was cool.
I felt as if I was in some border town.
So finally I fall asleep and sooner than you know it were just outside
of Flag. I noticed heshin' dude is fast asleep still gripping his half
full 40. Out the window there is snow on the ground and the bus is
sloshing through the street. Outside onthe street the night lights are
the various gas staions, and quickie marts, Wendy's, Cattle Barons,
Bun Huggers, all the landscape junk you can only find in America, I'm
glad to be up North though. Heshin, dude is still passed out.
So the bus rounds the corner of a Dairy Queen. As we pull into the
station the bus lights up inside as passengers stand up and grab their
bags from the overhead. The bus driver gets on the intercom to inform
us that if you are still heading East, please be back for boarding in
15 minutes. I just got a small bag so I step over heshin' dude. I'm in
Flag now and just want to get my party on ssshhhhheeee-it!
At this point as I step over heshin' dude he doesn't wake up. He is
out, 40 still in hand. I get in the aisle and as I slowly clamber away
the other passengers are just staring at me and then at heshin' as if
saying, "Hey man, you gonna wake up your bro?". Now remember, I'm
wearing black shoes and pants and a cut off sleeve dark grey shirt,
heshin' is wearing all black so in a sense, it looks like we could be
traveling partners, a couple of metal bros hitting the road for
freedom, booze, and Metallica.
Heshin' finally wakes up and to his surprise the light are on in the
bus and he freaks a bit and just wildly starts rubbing his face and
grunting? I get off the bus and meet a couple of bundled up bros with
hoodies and beanies waiting for me. Its f**king cold and so I exit the
station itching for a beer...
TO BE CONTINUED
Check this guy out. He has some crazy and funny-ass writings about
living in the city. I use to live in Phoenix and these stories hit
home. You can not ignore the stench.
www.myspace.com/11031219
By Komo'este
------------------------------------------------------------------
50 ft. Heshin'
One day in October of 96' I took a trip north to Flagstaff, again, to
visit my friend Jay.
I was dying to get out of town from all the riff raff that plagues the
city, transient nuts and drunken bums. I was working and living at the
time in an area chock full of these types of people. I had to get away.
It was a spur of the moment trip after work on a Friday so I took the
city bus to the Greyhound bus station so I packed light, just a bag of
spare socks, shirt, and shooters. Little did I know that Flag was cold
up there and I was wearing my Chuck Taylor's, a dark grey t-shirt, and
black jeans, with no jacket on or packed?
The evening city transit was full for the rush hour so I stood the
whole way on what I call "the loser cruiser" down to the Greyhound
station. I restlessly stood the whole 30-minute trek glancing at all
the weary ugly faces full of hard tales of life and all its monkeyty
pitfalls. At this point I can't wait to get anywhere but here.
Luckily, my headphones save me from any imminent conversations.
As the city bus rounded 16th street and Buckeye, about a mile from the
Greyhound, I noticed a Native dude hanging out at the corner of the
street with a small duffel bag chatting with some transient with a
shopping cart. They looked very engaged in their conversation. I
didn't recognize the dude. He was looking metal with black pants,
black high tops, black tank top, and long hair, but with this
borderline transient appeal. You could tell he was a veteran street
person.
The bus finally arrived at the stop in front of the station and I
stumbled out to meet a whole new level of bus riders, the more
colorful wayward country traveler as opposed to the average local
derelict.
Just a couple of shooters and a few hours of sleep and I'll be up
north away from this entire cactus and concrete. As I stood in line to
purchase my ticket I noticed the heshin' guy from down the street
strolling around the parking lot. He seemed lost but his swaggering
demeanor said otherwise. It looked like he was searching for
directions somewhere. I got my ticket, took a piss, and stood in line
just in time to board.
As I stood in line I looked back and noticed that boarding somw other
bus across the way was what appeared to me was this girl I used to
know named Roxy. She was with another girl I only know as Rat, but
mightve been named Melissa. They were boarding a bus to Tucson so I
didnt have time to yell out. Meanwhile,the heshin' dude is swaggering
around inside the station. He wasn't drunk swaggering, more with the
transient demeanor of , "Im freakin' weird and don't know it!" kinda
swagger. I exit the building and board the bus hoping for a seat to
myself. As I sigh and begin to relax I take a peek out the bus window
and notice that now, the heshin' dude is in line to board the same bus
that I'm on. So far, nobody wants to sit next to me..
I sit and look to see if anyone wants the seat next to me but to no
avail, now the heshin' dude is on the bus and swaggering down the
aisle towards me. He's looking around for a seat and yelping out,
"Tsup Bro?" to any passenger that acknowledges his existence. He comes
right to my seat, flops down, hair and all, and says, "Tsup bro!?". I
nodded my head and waited for the usual questions.
He had this funky smell, this smorgasbord odor of sweet candy and
alcohol. He didn't pay much attention to me because at this point he
was apparently helping his "old lady" out with their baby? I had no
idea where she came from nor could I piece together how I had seen him
on the street previously and now this happened so suddenly. I turned
up the tunes on my headphones.
So the bus gets rolling out of Phoenix and as soon as it does, heshin'
dude breaks out a 40 from out of nowhere. I saw him carrying a small
bag of clothes but suddenly he had this 40 tilted up to the ceiling
taking in some big chugs. His shoulder kept rubbing, or more like
sticking to my arm as he lifted his 40 oz. I couldn't wait to get off
the bus because at this point, I'm tired and I just wanna get out of
this town, now I'm dragging the remnants of street life with me on
this trip I don't want to even break out a shooter for fear of something.
He doesn't look at or acknowledge me throughout the whole trip, which
was very unusual and surprising. Maybe he had an open mind or was just
completely gone but whenever you encounter a fellow Native in the city
it's the usual, "Where you from?" or, "What's your tribe?!""Do you
know so and so?" None of that happened with this dude which was cool.
I felt as if I was in some border town.
So finally I fall asleep and sooner than you know it were just outside
of Flag. I noticed heshin' dude is fast asleep still gripping his half
full 40. Out the window there is snow on the ground and the bus is
sloshing through the street. Outside onthe street the night lights are
the various gas staions, and quickie marts, Wendy's, Cattle Barons,
Bun Huggers, all the landscape junk you can only find in America, I'm
glad to be up North though. Heshin, dude is still passed out.
So the bus rounds the corner of a Dairy Queen. As we pull into the
station the bus lights up inside as passengers stand up and grab their
bags from the overhead. The bus driver gets on the intercom to inform
us that if you are still heading East, please be back for boarding in
15 minutes. I just got a small bag so I step over heshin' dude. I'm in
Flag now and just want to get my party on ssshhhhheeee-it!
At this point as I step over heshin' dude he doesn't wake up. He is
out, 40 still in hand. I get in the aisle and as I slowly clamber away
the other passengers are just staring at me and then at heshin' as if
saying, "Hey man, you gonna wake up your bro?". Now remember, I'm
wearing black shoes and pants and a cut off sleeve dark grey shirt,
heshin' is wearing all black so in a sense, it looks like we could be
traveling partners, a couple of metal bros hitting the road for
freedom, booze, and Metallica.
Heshin' finally wakes up and to his surprise the light are on in the
bus and he freaks a bit and just wildly starts rubbing his face and
grunting? I get off the bus and meet a couple of bundled up bros with
hoodies and beanies waiting for me. Its f**king cold and so I exit the
station itching for a beer...
TO BE CONTINUED