Chapter I
The continuation of an epic unfinished surf novel! Catch up on the prologue here!
Winter
Branno sat slumped into a semicircle vinyl booth, head down, not paying attention to the brunette across the sticky Formica table. A pitcher of half-finished margarita hovered silently between them next to the memory of chips, guacamole and a wet California burrito. She was talking about something. Justin Bieber’s new music video? An emoji misunderstanding among her group of friends? He didn’t know or care because he was scrolling through Instagram and had stopped on a picture that was good. The best of the day and maybe even week. A perfect, quivering pair of tits framed just right against a messy, flowery bedspread with a rose gold iPhone 6s off to the side. Hers, no doubt.
He couldn’t see a face, the boys did a good job cutting it out, but she was for sure super wasted. Maybe even mouth breathing. He chuckled. They used to show the face too but then someone threatened a lawsuit, or some shit, so they all decided better just to focus on bits anyone cared about.
The multi-colored glass star lights twinkled above the table and a mariachi cover of Sweet Child O’ Mine floated through the air. It smelled like onions.
He and his two friends had started the account @canznthingz a few months ago as a laugh, each taking and posting photos of chicks they had brought home and in various states of blacked out undress. It was private, just for other friends, but had become something of a surf industry sensation. A bro over at SRF N TRF had even done a run of t-shirts and hats with their logo, a drunk chicken with pink panties around her ankles and a paper bag over her head.
Its popularity, though, brought problems. Someone showed someone showed one of the girls and she had gotten all lame and told someone who told someone who told Hedgy that her dad was a judge or prosecutor. Nothing came of it but now they were careful. Or more careful.
He chuckled again.
“You think that’s funny?” the brunette asked and her voice sounded hopeful.
“Ummmm, yeah babe.” He responded, knocked back into the present, and looked up for the second time since they’d been there. “Yeah. Super funny.”
She was cute enough. Maybe a six but her rig might even be a seven plus. He’d have to get through that baggy H & M sweater to know for sure. It said PEACE OFF.
She sighed, relieved, “Oh good. I thought I was boring you there for a minute.”
“Fucken needy girls…” he thought but whatever. All girls were needy some just pretended better than others that they weren’t. “Yeah funny. Rad…” he said and then put on a smokier voice. “Hey, babe, why don’t you finish that margie and then let’s go back to my place.”
He wanted to get on with his night and if he could smash this early it’d be sick because he had a thing later.
“But I was just telling you about that hot yoga class that I’ve got to go to after this and how drunk yoga should be, like, a thing too and, like…” she answered.
Fucken needy girls.
“Yeah yeah cool. Hot yoga… “ he cut her off before he had to listen to any more. “…Drunk yoga. Funny. I’ve gotta bounce anyhow. Fouled Anchors is doing a pop-up tonight and I told the bros that I’d rally soooo…”he looks over the shoulder for their waitress, or any waitress, “…rad.”
“Ummmmm, cool?” She responded, slightly confused at his instant cooling.
“…But AGENDA. You’re going, yeah?” he asked changing tact in direct response to her confusion, “I’ll be in booth F30 starting tomorrow and you should come by or whatever. It’d be cool.” It was never cool to completely jettison a six to possible seven plus.
Her face brightened. “Yeah, I’ll totally be there! I’m working the DESTROYR booth early but will defs swing by after.”
He nodded turning the temperature down, slightly, once again. “Sick.”
The waitress finally found him even though he’d had his hand in the air for an eternity and brought the bill, laying it down on the table. “Gracias” he said, ironically, though he was not sure how Mexicans did irony and shoved a twenty into the vinyl booklet. He looked at the brunette. She fished a twenty out of her Tory Burch handbag and put it on the table too. He shoved it into the vinyl booklet alongside his own. Forty dollars meant an 8% tip but whatever. The service was shit. A mariachi cover of Free Bird had just kicked on.
“Cool then…” he said hauling himself out of the booth. “See you tomorrow.”
He walked toward the door, brushing past too many succulents, without looking back to see what expression dressed her face. It wouldn’t matter. She was his now, hot yoga notwithstanding. It was just a matter of when.
Wasn’t there a short lived surf brand called Mada? Think it rose from the ashes of Ezekiel? Fuck those were the good old days! You’d slap any bullshit on a t-shirt and hit the road!
fucken hell I can barely wait for Spring.
Bukowski would be fond.
Hey Chas, do a story on WSLPURE post on their site was checking the forecast Margies
WSL = Pure Bullshit
It Reads
“This collaboration incorporates traditional philanthropy as well as a hybrid reinvestment model into research and education. Over time, we expect this will create self-sustaining funding for research.”
So that means that a 1.5 million investment actually negligible as they will be creating income.
They investing 1,5 to get 10 fold return pure and simple
Tomorrow morning!
I sit in front of the Weather Channel sometimes for hours, the green and yellow high-def images burning through my retinas casting shadows in the depths of my mind like the burnt and grisly phantoms of Fanafuti Atoll.
I see visions at these times.
Once I saw a daemon sitting astride matched Hum V’s puffing loose clove cigarettes… The smoke and sulphur levitated lazily.
I breathed it in fully as would a fresh salad awaiting its nightly misting from a Trader Joe’s produce department. The rest of the story lays in Laird’s hands. As do everyone’s.
I can see how inspired Chozza is by Hunter Thompson by his use of the word “Formica”. For some inexplicable reason all imitators of the new journalism thing tend to throw it in there for good measure…. maybe as a homage? Not a criticism Chozza, just an observation. Who is the beaver in the top photo? She has sick cans!
You are so right… I loved each and every word of HST so deeply. I thought I chased his echoes from my writing but there he is. Also, though, all southern california Mexican restaurants have Formica tabletops.
I hope you’re not being defensive …. I wasn’t trying to lay a boot in. I’m a fan of the writing style and HST was ripping off Hemingway anyway. It’s all following a natural trend. Onya Chozza.
Not defensive at all…..I think it impossible to run away from inspirations and every one of the new journalists made me swoon.
Not really known as a new journalist per se but I saw David Foster Wallace in the street near L.A. about a week before he threw in the towel. Pretty sick!
Thought it was Katy Perry first glance – because fuck me she has good cans
I think it might be too but she’s never razzed me up like this before! I’m at work and keep discreetly scrolling up to grab another look when no one is walking past. I’m not going back to fucking sexual harassment seminars again!
Ha ha am at work too and just tried to search the 20 hottest pics of Katy Perry – it did not appear but sweet jesus!!! Lucky am in own office and no one here!!!
You’re a lucky man. I’m not used to this desk job shit especially not in open plan. This joint is so cramped and silent I reckon if I cracked a fatty heads would turn at the sound of my knob hitting the underside of the table. I feel like a trapped bird.
fly free fly free – I need to leave to go surfing now I think to cool down
pretty sure it is now
http://heavy.com/action/gir…
Thanks I’ll smash my prick to this later.
https://m.youtube.com/watch…
For reals? That is weird. Now I have to go look for it. I read straight past it. You can’t really have a tacqueria without formica. I think it’s in the rules, actually.
(Er, edited for spelling, because I can’t.)
They all froth on Formica! I’ll take you to a taqueria for some chimichanga’s some time Jen <3. We can review old literature and hold hands under the moon light.
I guess it was fresh and new for those bros! Formica! So they had to talk about it a lot — and it’s shorthand for a certain kind of ¨50s conformity and suburbia, I guess?
Chimichangas? Dude. Tacos or GTFO. And the tortillas better be corn and fresh-made. A girl’s gotta have standards ya know.
I suppose it is. Well said….. In regards to the Mexican….I don’t know why I said chimichangas I’ve never had them in my life! How about some cute little taquitos? Anything! You make me nervous Jen! What the hell else are tortillas made out of if not corn!
Flour? They make tortillas out of flour, dude. But they’re way less good.
Ha ha I’m not even scary man. It’s chill. I’m actually not even sure I know what a chimichanga is? But it’s a damn funny word.
Oh flour… right. How embarrassing. I don’t really know how you could get Mexican wrong but in Australia it is dog shit and super expensive. I’ve looked on Google Images and can confirm chimichangas look fucking delicious but identical to every other Mexican cuisine in existence. Til next time my love.
chimichangas are the absolute business. However they have contributed to my somewhat rotund physique, and very poor paddle strength to weight ratio. So there’s that to consider.
I’m going to have to try them out. Hopefully Jen will love me enough to see past the expanding waistline and deteriorating surfing ability!
It’s a deep fried burrito. Flour tortilla.
To clarify, the up vote was for the last sentence, not the Chozza wannabe journalist stuff…
katy perry, but possibly shopped a little. She wore that shit on sesame street or some such bullshit.
HST?
Not even remotely close to a single thing he ever wrote…..maybe Rum Diary if you really want to stretch it.
Chozza runs far more Tom Wolfe minus the wide lapels than any other New Journalism/t.
Ha Chozza is really really into his exclamation marks and so is Tom Wolfe!!! It took me literally 3 seconds on Google to confirm that Tom Wolfe also mentions “Formica” a lot too. I always suffered through Tom Wolfe’s writing because I find him a little bit too effeminate for my liking. Thanks for calling him Chozza too. I really appreciate everyone’s hard work with that.
I dunno, I think this is very T C Boyle.
I love these too much, Chas.
Ha ha, me too. I’m not sure what that says about me, but they’re fun and so too real.