Ahhhhh....
Weekend at last.
Press play, and let's continue on with this true story, shall we?
Summer Of Katheena Part 4
Katheena and Joey sat across from me in the food court of the Fashion Fair Mall, looking mighty pleased with themselves.
I was simply savoring the best nachos I had ever tasted, anywhere, any time, on any planet, evah.
When they smiled at each other after chuckling at me, I swallowed.
"What?" I wiped my mouth with a napkin. "This shit is friggin awesome."
This was my first encounter with something that would embellish my food, music, movie, and partay experiences for many years down this path, from there on in.
And I ain't talking "nachos."
Of course, it must be said that it has been a loooong time since I puffed. Perhaps overdue?
Naaah. I like to be on top of my game, even when I am having some beers. Weed just makes me eat and eat and eat. And laugh...
There will never be judgement from me on anyone who partakes. It's your weekend. Enjoy the fuck out of it, baby.
So Joey nodded at the shopping bag sitting there, on my right, while I was lost in the bliss of those awesome nachos.
I saw what he nodded at and looked back at him. "Yeah, I'll wear them tomorrow."
And I did. For what it's worth, I would soon discover that I was not regarded as a lap dog by these two new friends of mine. They indeed had my own best interest at heart, and would so for a couple of years. One would bail after graduation, and the other would end up lying on a kitchen table, soaked in blood, while we attempted to administer our version of triage for him, surgery-wise.
That is in a previous chapter. I'm telling these tales in reverse.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
MORNING
I strolled into the quad of McClane High the next morning with my new duds on. The night before, contemplating my arrival into that new school with those clothes on, I envisioned either applause or an ass-beating. It was hard to get to sleep that night. Such are the workings of a teenager's mind when they attempt re-invent themselves. It never works out quite that way, does it?
No.
In fact, no one noticed me. Evidently, I was fitting in now. And not sticking out. At least, not just yet. I went to meet Joey. At least he recognized me.
"Weeee-ill! You looking sharp, Tonto!" Joey stood up and held out his hand in greeting.
I stopped and glared at him. "Never, ever call me that."
He looked shocked. "Huh? You Indian. Me: Kemosabe."
I shook my head. "For a Spic who doesn't speak his own language, you got a lotta nerve."
Joey looked hurt. "Now why you gotta go and call me a Spic?" He balled up his fists.
This was my first encounter with the rage that filled this little dude. This rage would eventually become an aspect, a facet, if you will, of his Punk Identity. This was the true Joey, a young Hispanish man who encountered prejudice on a daily basis, and this was why he dolled himself up in the best threads he could manage to afford.
He represented.
YES.
I looked at his fighting stance and smirked. "Now don't be getting all refried on me, ya friggin little Lion. Do you even know what 'Tonto' means?"
Joey softened a bit, and his fists unclenched. "Well, actually, no..." He looked a bit embarassed. "But you obviously do. So let's hear it."
"Well, dude, 'Tonto' means 'Stupid,' in your native language. It was one of the first things I learned at Roosevelt High, where the majority of students are Hispanish, like yourself. I know from first-hand experience."
He frowned.
I went on. "Kemosabe means, "One Who Knows All."
Joey's eyes went wide. "All these years of watching The Lone Ranger, and that dude was calling the other guy 'Stupid?' Really?"
I nodded. "And the writers had that Indian dude call the white dude God."
Joey shook his head. "Man, I am sorry. I never knew. I will never call you Tonto again."
And he never did. Don't ever forget where this is leading to.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
When the first bell rang and I walked into my first class, the only ones to take notice of my new clothing were the Jocks.
"Weeee----eeeewwwww! Somone got some garment money from giving blow-jobs down on the lower east-side last night!"
Friggin Gilbert. I ignored him and went to sit behind the blond chick up front who no longer had a cold. She turned around and smiled. And she was very cute. In the next year I would witness her wearing a cheerleader's uniform, (which showed off her long, tanned legs) as well as her expertise in the Debate Club.
This chick would go on into college prep classes, become our class valedictorian and give an amazing speech at our graduation, and she would even ask me to come to her home for movie night on one of those new (back then, that is) large rear-projection screen televisions, (to which I would bring a date). This girl had her own large rear projection, yup.
About bringing a date on a date: you will see why, later.
The Scoobie dude on my left side looked over at me from behind his shades and grinned. Hambone. That was his name, I would later find out, but not from him.
Nicknames are earned, you see.
Hambone snuckled, which is a really-stoned way of chuckling.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
LUNCH
Katheena smiled at me over her soda. "You looking mighty fine, Will."
Instant NSFW erection . I once again ran my eyes up and down her sun-browned arms, paused at her small but perky breasts (no bra) and then went back up to stare at her full lips. She had on that frosty lipstick which was so trendy back then, and it contrasted with her tanned face. Her irises were almost black under those exotic Asian eyelids. She was able to pull off wearing a lot of eyeshadow without looking cheap because of her bedroom eyes and her amazing eyebrows.
They looked sharp as knives.
She giggled. "You should eat your food, not eat me up with your eyes."
I looked down at my plate, "Sorry. I just... Well..."
She giggled again. "Will. You never have to make an excuse for the way you look at me."
I looked back up. "Huh?"
She said, "I love the way you look at me. It's honest. It's not perverted."
If only she knew what I was thinking. But then again, she probably did.
Katheena did not work at her dad's restaraunt every day, as you know from last weekend's chapter, when she and Joey put us all into orbit for the afternoon. That was one of those moments in your life that you look back upon as a "perfect day."
These "Perfect Days" do not come often, but when they do,
well,
that is something you will never forget.
It is the answer to waking up from an awesome dream of flying or what-have-you. You get to go back to dreamland to return to flying.
Which was, for me, the Summer of Katheena.
If you like, we'll go on tomorrow with more of this. There will be elucidation of what it means to be a Punk, and what it means to Not Yet Fulfilling your Destiny.
The Destiny of Punk.
See you tomorrow.
God Help You.
God Help Us All.
---willies out.
One more for ya.
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