A Memorable Thursday

Hooooeee! Last Thursday was nice- Munsie, we'll call her Munsie for the sake of convenience and I decided to go swing down to the Badalona Basecamp for a nice dinner. I got to Munsie's place at 6:00, I was hanging out at the Chinese bar downstairs having a bivo and a smoke and kinda looking at the bartender, a remarkably fine looking specimen, as androgynous as androgynous gets, almost as bad as that Marilyn Manson record where he ditched the Addams Family look and opted for a more Alien with a Hard-on look, only not an alien, no visible hard-on yet almost no visible masculine traits whatsoever- he was watching some Taiwanese romance or something, chatting in Chinese. I was posing like Steve McQueen in the doorway when Munsie rode in on her bicycle. I saw her smile, I saw the fishnet stockings, I saw those big tits, I saw dinner reservations going to Hell in a hand basket and I saw myself back in the saddle again.

We got upstairs and had our clothes off faster than you can say "how much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood". Now, look, I've never been a big fan of blowjobs, basically because it used to kind of scare me- call it castration anxiety... but then, I never really had a good one- blowjob that is...well, maybe a handful of times, but nothing to write home about you know? I've seen some pretty wild ones on the web but figured nobody who'se ever blown me has ever done it to my liking, so I guess I'm over the blowjob obsession.

And Munsie , the first couple of times, wasn't going to change that. Well, I don't know what the Hell happened; maybe she did like Robert Johnson, and went off and made a pact with the devil and came back as the blowjob equivalent of the greatest blues guitarist the world has ever known because Munsie has definitely picked up the slack. So that was a nice surprise.

Next project was to go drive out to Badalona, drop off the bike and stroll over to the restaurant, Badalona's only joint with live Jazz, and that's what we did. We smoked a joint on the way over, got lost, asked directions, got found and plotzed in right on time. It was upstairs- a room set up like a fancy VFW hall, only teeny weeny by comparison. Long tables on one side, to accomodate groups of 6 and a small table for 2 or 4 on the other side, where we sat. The music they were piping in was the usual crap; Stan Getz and Astrud Gilberto, Louis Armstrong, I wonder what they would slap on after hours, maybe a nice Burl Ives spoken word thing, I dunno. As soon as I saw the three musicians come in, I know right there and then, that this was going to be a night of wincing. Oh they were heavy handed, oh man, they just didn't have the beat, no passion- they were reading partitions, the trumpet guy looked about as hip as a small claims bailiff and I saw a big dopey one with a slap bass and another guy clumsily mauling some guitar. Whew, I've come a long way- hey, I had been listening to Art Pepper and Sun Ra recently, I love wacky jazz but this stuff 3 feet away from me was just too insane. The trumpet/fluegelhorn guy blew timidly and consierably badly- I couldn't tell if he was just trying to be sparse or he was sparing me from more pain. I could hear the guitarist timidly stretch the solo in a sort of ever so slightly west coast influenced foray into the unknown, like a leery cat pussyfooting over an unsure territory. Every once in a while he would jump off key and then scurry back to his little scale. I 'm glad I wasn't looking at them, I would have laughed in their faces and that would have been uncool. The food was ok- too expensive for what they dished out, but then again I ordered a rice dish they called "rice and seafood rigmarole "or something and it was just a paella- bland. Munsie had a nice sauteed tuna slab and broiled veggies, she enjoyed her dinner more than me and overall we had a good time.

We wandered home, grope all along the way, that Munie is such a nice fit- so beefy- we got in the rack and I tried top give Munsie a bit of the hair of the dog, but we were too tired- that's what sleeping was for and that brought us into Friday morning, which was a very satisfying and enjoyable wakeup call. The weekend was just starting.