| Diana The Huntress And Other Tales From The Day-Glo Road |
- I was sitting around bored to death. It was winter, and it was cold. Well…cold for Los Angeles anyway. I thought I'd drop a
tab of vitamin L and smoke a fatty, and patronize one of the local meat markets for one of my favorite pastimes. Clinical
observations. I decided I'd head down to Santa Monica.
The bars along Main St. were usually filled with swells plying their amusing techniques at scoring babes/dudes. I liked those
little local bars where everyone knows everyone else and the atmosphere is relaxing, and not the schizophrenic miasma at your
typical "in" places. I forget the name of the one I picked out, but it was one of those places where the bartenders flip the
bottles around, putting on a show for tips and serving up strange sounding drinks like the "Embryo", or the "Pulsating Pussy".
And the place was surrounded by big windows so you could be seen or noticed by passers by. It was the early '70's and there
was a nice mix of Cocaine Cowboys, and early adopter Disco Ducks. All the elements were present for a delightful evening of
observations.
I went up to the bar, ordered a shot of religion (Christian Brothers Brandy), to take off the chill, and a pitcher of that 3.2
piss water the state of California passes off as beer. I found a table in back where I could be as unobtrusive as possible, but
still have a good view. After a bit, it started getting pretty crowded. There was a smattering of couples. A few guys in their
Cocaine Cowboy uniforms (Hawaiian shirts, levis, little clutch purses, and expensive cowboy boots), were standing at the bar
talking way too loud. Especially one, expecting that that would get him noticed. There were two girls/ladies carrying on a
conversation in their sexy outfits and glowering at every guy who came up and hit on them or tried to start a conversation. I
never could figure that one out. Why would they come to an obnoxious noisy place like this, if they just wanted to talk?
So Thelma and Louise had just blown off their 9th potential suitor, when she walked in. Jumpin' Jesus on a pogo stick but she
was fine. With an ethereal beauty following her like a lost puppy., and dark bumble bee eyes ready to sting at anyone who met
her glance. Her hair was the black of a deep cavern, with flashes of Orchid, as the highlights shown like beacons through it's
darkness. I had seen her before. Well not her in particular, but her type. She was Diana the Huntress looking for quarry.
Dragging along her not so good looking friend/sidekick in tow, to make sure she was the center of attention. But not so fast.
Her first move was to the darkest corner of the bar. She had been here before. I could tell. She didn't need to look for it,
but moved there instinctively. Like any good huntress she knew her hunting ground, and scanned the surroundings looking for
prey that would satisfy her hunger. She stayed there for a bit longer than I would have guessed. This one was picky alright!
She took out a mirror and made sure her makeup was perfect. She wasn't going to leave anything for chance.
I saw her look up at the spot lighting in the ceiling near the bar, and realized she had already picked her target. It was the
loud mouth Cocaine Cowboy, buying another round of Kamikazes for the boys, and one for the bartender. Flashing the big wad
of cash, and probably driving a Benz, or Porsche, he was the perfect target. By this time, she had already finished observing
the lights, and the play of shadows, silently picking the spot that would illuminate her perfectly. Yeah, she was good. Real good.
She had the patience of a Lioness, and the grace of a Cheetah, as, cat like she moved through the crowd effortlessly. Twisting
and bending so as to not touch anyone, and possibly muss even a hair, she arrived directly behind the cowboy, still unaware that
he was being stalked.
As she moved closer, she tilted her head so the light fell across her like a Rembrandt painting. Her faces emotionless, but
determined look, gave way to that goddess look she had been practicing in front of mirrors since she was 12. She struck!
Turning toward the bar she let her elbow brush against his back. His immediate look of anger, at this incursion into his space,
fell away as he turned and saw her staring blankly at the back of the bar, seemingly unaware of his presence.
He said "Well hellooooo pretty lady! Can I buy you a drink?" in his best Beverly Hills cowboy accent.
Her face flashed annoyance as she turned to him, but immediately shifted to one of mild pleasure, as she caught his eyes in
hers, feinting surprise at his good looks. OMG!!!! This was just too good! I was witnessing feminine mastery of the male of the
species. This was a performance worthy of an Emmy, an Oscar, or at the very least, at that moment, Time Magazines' "Picture
Of The Year".
She almost whispered, in a weak little voice, that seemingly cried out for protection from the big bad world. She paused. Long
enough for him to think she was just now deciding, "Well, OK. Do they have Champagne here?"
Like she didn't know. The best part of this whole scenario was him turning back to his friends and giving that look of "Check
out this beauty I just picked up, am I bitchin' or what?" oblivious to what had happened. What a yahoo. The dumb
motherfucker actually thought he had picked her up! This chick was going to eat him alive. He had met his master and it was
she! It was just too much for me. That, and the fact that by this time, I was peaking on the acid, the walls were breathing, and
the stained glass was melting. So I shot down the last bit of backwash from the pitcher, and hit the road. I told myself "you
gotta remember this shit, and write about it someday.
So I hopped into my VW bus, made the determination that I wasn't so high that walls were going to jump in front of me on the
freeway, and hit the road. As I was driving, a funny thing happened. While driving home on the freeway, I was noticing how
bright the colors on the cars seemed, especially seeing as how it was night, when the darn things started turning into fruit. A
red VeeDub became an apple. A yellow Chevy van turned into a banana, and there were cherries dancing in my rear view
mirror. Wait a minute. OH SHIT! Those aren't cherries, those are cop car lights!
I took a couple of deep breaths to gather my wits and calm down. I'd been here before. This wasn't a big deal. I can smooth
dog my way out of this. I was wondering what I could have possibly done since I was on the freeway. I was staying in between
the lines, and there weren't any lights or stop signs to blow, so that left speed. Geez, I really hadn't noticed how fast I was
going. I decided to say I was going the speed limit and play it by ear. The cop walked over to the window and I rolled it down.
He didn't have his ticket book out. That's usually a good sign. I handed him my drivers license and vehicle registration.
"Good evening officer." I smiled.
"Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" he asked.
"Yeah. 65. That's the speed limit right?"
"You were going 7 miles per hour! Step out of the car please…….
