Thursday, June 21, 2007

The 411 on the 911

I'm standing there waiting to cross Hollywood Boulevard. Gardner Street leads up into the Hills where there's great hiking in Runyan Canyon. Even though it's a residential area cars are moving real fast. I position myself so that a telephone poll is between me and traffic as I wait for the light to turn. Bouncing off the hood of a Hummer like a rag doll is not how I want to make my Youtube debut. Not yet.

The universe bends to my twisted will as I hear the loud screeching of brakes. A black Beamer skidding sideways comes to a halt right in front of me up against the curb. A girl jumps out of the car running towards me screaming---Do you have a cell phone!!? I need to use your cell phone!! Please...!!


I see a blur of high heels, miniskirt and a tight T-shirt. She's real hot in the way that pop culture says is real hot. This means that if you're a genuine sensualist she's ice cold.

I stick to the script and deliver my line with a certain amount of genuine feeling.
--- Are you OK? What's the matter?

---Can I use your cell phone? Please. I lost my phone.

Sure---I say. What happened?

---I lost my cell phone. I need to call my cell phone. I think it's in my car somewhere.

Really.

OK. I hand her my phone. She dials and then hands it back to me flinging open the passenger door as she roots around under the seat. I'm now looking at, what is aesthetically, a very nice bare ass. I kid you not, I can see where the thong widens tight up against the contoured cleft that is her cunt. Yes, I believe that is the right word.

Breaking my spell she says---Oh thank God. Here it is. She holds up one of those Blackberry jobs so that I can also be relieved. ...'cause you know I really thought we were all going to die.

She then jumps back into her car and takes off.

All true. These are my questions:

1) Is that kind of phone fanaticism native to LA or do people get like that in other parts of the world?
2) How does cell phone dependency get so bad that it eclipses a woman's most primitive instinct to keep her coochie covered? I'm no prude but I do think it's weird when all modesty is lost, particularly if you're sober.
3) If that particular dread were removed from her brain, what would she replace it with?
4) Seeing that I have her phone number, what would be the most diabolical way to use it?

Thank you, you've been a lovely audience. Drive safe.

2 comments:

D-in-SanFran said...

Your blog is hilarious! Enjoyed reading it.

-a DMIND Alumnus

Christian Remde said...

I love that you're using the word "cunt" in your blog...it reminds me of the stories that mom used to tell me before bed.

sigh...